#imagine hes looking into a mirror or something

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Your Specialty (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer sees his significant other comforting a child and it makes him wonder. A/N: Written for my best friend on her birthday. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Minor self-deprecation, implied difficult childhood, crying Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

Spencer loves you every day. There is never a doubt or a hesitation. With each glance, he finds something new to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why he is right to love you.

But there are some moments where even he, in his seemingly infinite wisdom, is unable to put into words the way he feels when it comes to you. In those moments, all he can do is silently soak in the unknowing.

It was a quiet moment, all things considered. There was no more bad guys to be caught, no more bloodshed to be had. Still, there were tears, as there usually were when you were around.

It wasn’t your fault. You just have a way about you that makes people feel… loved. Sometimes for the first time.

Spencer peers through his open office door to find you. You are on your knees, eyes locked with the young boy standing in front of you.

His small body shakes with incoherent sobs. He is held steady only by your gentle hands cupping his face. Despite the sight, you are smiling. A calm, subtle curve that holds him up in another way.

From where he is, Spencer can’t hear your words. But he can still feel the relief. He finds himself mirroring you both, with deep inhales fighting against the knot his throat. The air comes out warm and trembling.

In that moment, as he watches you comfort something small, he is a little boy again. He is the one lifting his arms in a silent request to be loved in a simple way.

And he can feel it. He feels your arms as they wrap around the little boy and lift him gently from the ground.

The feeling is almost too much, but he doesn’t look away. He watches and waits patiently for you to let the little boy go.

He waits for you to notice, to quickly come to him before your own trembling hands are noticed by the boy being carried away to what Spencer still hopes will be a happily ever after.

Spencer watches you the entire time. His own mind races, struggling still to find words to explain the feeling in his chest.

He’d almost gotten it when you interrupt the thought with a laugh.

“What is it?” you ask.

Any eloquence vanishes and is replaced with a stammer.

“You’re uh… you’re good at that,” he says. "Comforting kids."

Somehow, it sounds better than it did in his head.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the compliment, you glance over your shoulder to see the boy still watching you.

You recognize the same expression on your lover’s face.

“Kids are easy to love,” you answer.

He accepts your humility. He meets the modesty with his own typical self-deprecation.

“You should’ve seen me as a kid.”

Beneath the words, you hear the uncertainty. That stubborn, relentless fear that there is something rotten to be found in his heart.

You narrow your eyes as you inspect him. His shoulders square under your scrutiny. You look at him, carefully reviewing each wrinkle and freckle. You tilt your head to look at him in another way.

And you find nothing at all rotten.

“I would’ve liked that,” you tell him in earnest.

Emboldened, but still afraid, Spencer dares to take another step forward.

“What do you think you would’ve said?” he says like it’s a joke.

This time, your pause is a couple beats longer.

You look at the man in front of you and try to imagine him with teeth too big for a tiny frame. You imagine unruly curls and thick, crooked glasses perched over innocent eyes.

You look at the man you love and you see it. A small boy staring up at you in his oversized suit. Always trying to be both smaller and bigger than he was meant to be.

“I’d tell him,” you say, unsure of your own words, “that he’s strong and clever, and he shouldn’t have to try so hard to prove it to everyone.”

Spencer sucks in a breath that betrays his aloof demeanor. The words hit him like a swift blow to the stomach. But even with the pain, he hopes you’re not finished.

You’re not.

“I’d tell him that I know he’s trying his hardest, and sometimes things are bigger than us and…”

You bite your tongue to stop tears from welling. You breathe in sharply, reaching up to place both palms against his reddened cheeks. You laugh as they shift towards a goofy grin despite tears.

“I’d tell him that everything’s going to be okay,” you say confidently.

“Oh,” he chuckles; a sad but necessary sound.

"Yeah."

Gentle thumbs wipe each droplet that manages to spill from big golden brown eyes. The same as you had moments before, you catch what you can of his sadness and turn it to comforting warmth across his cheek.

Spencer bites his lip, looking down at your feet before daring to look at you again. Because when he does, he loses his breath and his sense once more.

“I, uh... I think he would’ve liked that,” he confesses.

“I know,” you whisper with a genuine remorse. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Spencer accepts the apology but refuses to stay in the past any longer.

“But you’re here now,” he says quickly.

“Yeah, I am,” you laugh in return. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”

But letting you go is the furthest thing from his mind. In fact, he pulls you closer until there is nothing but atoms between you. Strong arms embrace you and his clever words muffle against your hair.

“I wouldn’t even dare to try.”

Together, you settle into the silence. You share your warmth without restraint. Just two bodies swaying in a simple and symbiotic embrace. You enjoy the comfort, the company, the lack of need for words to describe it all.

And once you feel he’s had his fill, you sigh against his shirt.

“You know, I’m going to get through to that little boy eventually.”

Spencer halts his step as he starts to laugh.

“Is that a threat?” he asks.

Without moving from your place against him, you smile.

“Watch out, Dr. Reid,” you hum. “I’ve been told I’m good at this.”

Spencer accepts the warning with a smile.

“Yes," he chuckles. "Yes, you are.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[veltana]

Breaking point

✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~2,5k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).

✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.

✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚

Masterlist | AO3

"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.

Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.

Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.

Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.

"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.

Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"

Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."

Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"

The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.

"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.

"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."

Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"

With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.

The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."

His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.

"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.

The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.

"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.

The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.

"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.

"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.

"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.

If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.

Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.

"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.

"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.

For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.

"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.

"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"

The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.

"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."

"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"

With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.

As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.

"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.

A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.

He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.

Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.

"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.

Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.

He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.

When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.

In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.

"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.

The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.

Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."

There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."

He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"

Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.

With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."

With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.

Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.

Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

STORM

• jude bellingham x gf!reader

• warnings: none, pure comfort.

• summary: Amid a fierce storm, Jude and his girlfriend, estranged by silence and tension of past arguments, are forced to confront their emotions. In the darkness, a single moment of vulnerability can change everything.

The storm outside was relentless, its furious winds howling through the night, rattling the windows of the bedroom like the sky itself was falling apart. Those kinds of storms didn’t happen occasionally, but weren’t an uncommon phenomenon in Madrid’s Fall weather. Thunder crashed in the distance, sending shivers up Jude’s spine as he lay on his side of the bed, staring blankly at the poor iluminated ceiling. The low rumble of the storm mirrored the storm inside him—the one that had been raging for days now, or maybe weeks, between him and her.

They hadn’t spoken much lately. The silence between them had grown too heavy to bear, but neither had the courage or the lack of pride to break it. What had started as small disagreements had snowballed into something larger, more painful. Jude couldn’t even remember what the first fight had been about—a forgotten plan, a misplaced word, maybe a careless remark. All of them stupid reasons at the end of the day. But now it felt like every conversation turned into a fight, every look shared was strained and every touch avoided.

Tonight was no different. The space between them on the bed felt like an ocean, cold and endless. He could feel her next to him, curled up on her side, her back facing him. The bed dipped slightly under her weight, and yet she felt miles away. They hadn’t kissed goodnight in days. They hadn’t even said “goodnight” in what felt like forever. God he missed her. And she did too.

Jude sighed, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of the rain against the window. Maybe if he just closed his eyes, he could fall asleep and escape this awful silence for a few hours. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow they could talk.

But then he felt it—a small tremor in the bed. At first, he thought he’d imagined it, but then it happened again. He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing in the dark. It was her—she was shaking. Trembling, really. The storm outside grew louder, and with it, so did her tremors. Jude frowned. She had never been good with storms. She was always terrified of them, something about the noise, the unpredictability of it all. She had told him in their third date. It made her anxious, though she rarely admitted it.

He tried to ignore it, focusing again on the sound of the rain, the thunder, anything but the fact that she was scared and trembling right next to him. They hadn’t been talking. They were still angry, weren’t they? He didn’t know if he should do anything, didn’t know if she wanted him to. His heart warred with his pride, that bitter part of him telling him to stay on his side of the bed, to let her deal with it on her own.

But then another shudder ran through her body, more violent this time, and he heard a soft, muffled whimper escape her lips. His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

He couldn't ignore it. He couldn't ignore her.

Finally, with sigh, Jude shifted. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out, his hand hovering just above her back. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if she’d pull away, if the gap between them had grown too wide to bridge. But then another roll of thunder shook the house, and she flinched, a small, involuntary whimper escaping her lips.

That was all it took.

In one smooth motion, Jude moved closer, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. He pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly, as if trying to shield her from the storm raging outside. She stiffened at first, as if surprised by the sudden contact, but then she melted into him, her body sagging against his as though she had been waiting for this, waiting for him to break the barrier between them.

"I´m here," he murmured, his voice soft against the back of her neck. He pulled her tighter, his chest pressed against her trembling back. "I´m right here, okay? I´ve got you."

She didn´t say anything, but her hands reached up, gripping his forearm that was now wrapped around her middle. She held on like she was afraid he might let go, and for a second, Jude felt a lump form in his throat. He could feel her trying to keep it altogether but failing.

"I´m sorry," she whispered suddendly, her voice craking.

Jude blinked in the dark, surprised by her words. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he felt it—a warm, wet drop hitting his arm. She was crying.

"Hey, hey, no, don´t—" His heart twisted, and without thinking, he pulled her even closer, if that was possible, turning her in his arms so she was facing him. She buried her face in his chest, her tears dampening his shirt as she sobbed quietly. He held her tightly, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It´s okay," he whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head.

Her hand clung to him, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt as she cried, the sound of the storm drowned out by the sound of her broken sobs.

"I don´t like fighting with you," she whispered through her tears, her voice muffled against his chest. "I hate it."

Jude swallowed hard, his own throat tight with emotion. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words.

"I hate it too," he admitted quietly. "I hate being like this with you."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The storm outside raged on, but in the quiet of their embrace, it felt like something shifted. Something broke open between them, a dam that had been holding back all the hurt and frustration, and now it was spilling out in the form of tears, in the way he held her like he never wanted to let go.

"I´m sorry too," Jude said, his voice thick. "I don´t want to fight anymore. I just want us to be okay."

She sniffled, nodding against him, her grip on him loosening slightly as her sobs began to subside. Her breathing, though still shaky, started to even out, and Jude felt her body relax a little in his arms. He kept holding her, kept whispering reassurances in her ear, telling her he was there, that he wasn´t going anywhere.

After what felt like and eternity, her sobs quieted to soft sniffles, and she pulled back slightly, just enough to look up to him. Her eyes were red ans swollen for crying, her cheeks wet with tears, but she looked at him with such vulnerability, such raw emotion, that Jude felt like his heart might burst.

"Can we... can we fix this?" she asked, her voice small, uncertain.

Jude looked into her eyes, having her for the first time in weeks just for him. He nodded, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

"Of course," he whispered, his voice firm with that accent that she loved. "We will."

She managed a small, soft smile, and it was the most beautiful thing Jude had seen in a long time. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, and for a moment, they just breathed together, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling.

The storm outside continued to rage, but she felt safe in his arms, like as if she belonged there. They still had things to talk about, things to work through. But for now, in this moment, they were finally together. And that was enough.

"I love you," Jude said softly, his lips brushing hers as he spoke the words. "I love you so so much...," he continued against her neck making her giggle.

"I love you too, Jude," she whispered back, and then she kissed him—soft, sweet, and filled with a quiet promise that they would be okay.

[dekariosclan]

We know from the epilogue that Gale is often so immersed in his research that he can ignore everything in the world, including Tav, until he finishes. How will Gale make amends after a few days of ignoring his love?

Ps: Tav wasn't really mad at him, of course, but sometimes it's a shame that the book is given more time than Tav, don't you think so?

Ooh what a great question!! 🥰

So I have to imagine that Gale getting caught up in his research—the topic of which can be anything and everything, depending on what his brilliant mind decides to focus on that week—is something Tav gets used to pretty quickly.

But I don’t believe that Gale ever fully ignores Tav, no matter how passionate he is about the topic he’s working on. For example, I don’t see him locking himself away in his study for hours at a time and completely forgetting to interact with Tav. This is a man who spent a year+ in lonely isolation, bereft, desperately longing for company. This is a man whose greatest wish (as shown by the magic mirror in Act I) has always been for a sweetheart to join him in his tower. And this is a man who, even when he read Karsus’s book and his thoughts were consumed with the knowledge it contained, was still focused on Tav, and what Tav would think, and how Tav would react.

So all that said—what I DO think happens is that he becomes immersed in his research to the point of complete distraction.

I can see him going up and down the tower, rummaging through his piles of books and bookshelves, paging through giant tomes, then tossing them aside and muttering to himself, while his conjured mage hand scribbles notes on a piece of parchment. Meanwhile, Tav watches all of this with fond amusement—because while Gale is pacing around with his nose buried in a book, his mind seemingly a million miles away, he’ll still occasionally take Tav’s hand and press it to his lips for a gentle kiss, all without ceasing his reading.

At other times he’ll step into the room and, with his gaze focused on the book or notes clutched in his hands, start bouncing ideas off of Tav: “My love, did you know that the alchemical properties of Daggerroot make it an excellent weapon coating? Do you think it could also be used for medicinal properties? Yes or no?…Hmm—I can tell by your silence that you are hesitant about it…you know, I do believe that you are correct in your assessment. Yes, now that I think about it, Mugwort remains the superior choice. Excellent advice my love, you truly know how to steady the direction of my mind even through the most volatile of seas!” Then he’ll hurry away—all without realizing that Tav was not even in the room, but in the hallway behind him, watching all this play out while trying not to laugh.

AND THEN, finally, when Gale has completed his work and the scholarly portion of mind is satisfied (until the next topic takes hold…) Tav will look up from whatever they were doing to find that their delightful wizard has, without their noticing, conjured an entire dinner spread of Tav’s favorite foods, scented candles, and flowers.

And their wizard will be before them, gently plucking whatever book or letter or item that Tav had been engaged with from their grasp, so that he can take both of their hands in his. Then he’ll caress them slowly, while smiling lovingly into Tav’s eyes, his full attention on them and them alone.

“Done with your research now, are you?” Tav will ask with a smile.

But Gale will shake his head. “My love,” he will admonish gently, as he worshipfully caresses his fingers over their face, down their jawline. “You should know that a wizard’s research is never done.”

Then he’ll place his bent finger under their chin, and smile. “I’m simply moving on to studying my favorite subject,” he’ll conclude, as he tips their head up and kisses them deeply.

[stevesgother]

Dress - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - 2 times Steve Harrington has lost his mind seeing you in a dress that fits you like skin, and the one time he does something about it.

Contains - best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is pathetically in love, loosely based off of ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift. Or maybe heavily based lol

Warnings - steve & reader ARE 18 in this, they just haven’t graduated yet, drinking, vomit. As always, let me know if I missed anything

AN - THIS IS PART 1 OF A WIP. second fic…ever! also my first mini series! i was gonna make it all one fic but i figured it would be easier to digest this way. enjoy :)

Senior Prom - May 1985

Michael Cooper. That’s who was waiting for you downstairs in your foyer, sweet talking your parents while he waited to escort you to your final high school dance. He wasn’t your first choice for your senior prom, hardly even your second; but he was respectable enough for you to be seen on his arm for one night.

Taking one last look at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress. It was a beautiful baby pink ball gown with lace trim and puffy sleeves. Before you can think better of it, before you can feel guilty for it, you imagine Steve’s reaction when he sees you tonight.

Steve Harrington. Your best friend since diapers. Your mothers grew up together, so naturally when they found out they were pregnant at nearly the exact same time, it only made sense that they would orchestrate your friendship immediately.

As it turns out, not much orchestrating would be required. The second your little baby brains could comprehend what it meant to love another person, the rest was history. Wherever you went, Steve went too. You’re not sure when your feelings for him started to change. The usual calm that washed over you whenever you were in his presence one day seemed to transform into something different. You felt nervous, like someone had released a net of butterflies into your stomach.

You clear your head with a harsh shake and grab your clutch off the bed, making your way downstairs. Michael is waiting for you with a green corsage in a shiny translucent box. ‘That's Sweet,’ you think, “if only it matched my dress.’ 

–

Upon arriving at the gym, the first thing you do, consciously or not, is scan the room for your best friend. You spot him quickly, his perfectly manicured hair and well-pressed suit making him hard to miss. Even harder to miss is the gorgeous, curly haired brunette resting her head on his shoulder.

Nancy Wheeler.

They’ve been together for over a year at this point, even joining your close knit circle of friends. Despite this, you can’t help the nagging sense of jealousy stabbing at your chest, making your face heat up. You tell yourself it’s the humidity inside the gymnasium, and not the fact that you’d give anything to be in her position. You quickly abandon your date and try not to feel guilty for it, making your way over to the happy couple.

“Steve!” You call as you come further into their line of sight.

“Hey you!” Steve stands and gives you a tight hug. “Hey!’ you greet, returning the embrace. He can’t help the way his eyes quickly travel down the expanse of you, noticing the shape this dress gives your body. He prays to any listening God that his girlfriend didn’t notice, that you didn’t notice. “Hey Nance.” You address her with a polite smile. She gives you a hug without warning. Another thing that irks you about Nancy Wheeler: that girl is impossible to hate. You have every reason to despise her, and yet you can’t. She’s kind, funny, strong-willed and beautiful. She’s so ‘girl next door’, she’s so…not you. Occasionally you’ve wondered if it’s a front, that she can’t possibly be that perfect.

“Where’s Michael?” She asks inquisitively; like she genuinely cares where your douchebag date has run off to. A quick scan of the room reveals he’s already talking up another girl by the photobooth. There’s not one part of you that gives a shit. “We were just thinking about grabbing some food, wanna come with?” Steve nods his head toward the various appetizers they have set up on tables decorated with gaudy tinsel and tablecloths. “Yeah, why not?”, you smile and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

–

An hour and 2 cups of spiked punch later, ‘Heaven’ by Bryan Adams starts to play and you feel like you might hurl. Nancy’s face quickly lights up and she gives her date a knowing look, “Steve! Let's dance! Please??”. She’s immediately pulling him away from the table where you’ve been watching them flirt all night. Her delicate hand resting on his bicep, his large one finding a home on her thigh. He sends you a sympathetic look as he rises; sorry that he has to leave you there, sorry that you won’t be slow dancing with anyone tonight. He has no idea.

Your date is long gone. The two of you going together was a ticket inside and nothing more.

The air in the gym is suffocating and frankly smells of sweaty basketball shorts, so you decide to make your way outside for some fresh air. The romantic serenade of Bryan Adams’ voice is nothing more than a quiet lullaby as you lean against the brick wall of your high school.

You hear him before you see him. “Hey stranger,” the open door momentarily lets the humidity escape and you feel it wash over your skin. “you alright?” he asks with a half smile.

“Yeah just,” you say looking around, “getting some air is all,” returning the expression. He imitates you and decides to lean on the wall, a little too close for comfort. You’re all but slapped across the face with his scent. Cinnamon, a no doubt expensive musky cologne, and sweat. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to meet his gaze; praying that he can’t see the crimson shade of red creeping up your neck and cheeks simply from standing next to him. You feel so pathetic at times like these. 

“Nance found a couple of her girlfriends, figured it’d be a good time for a smoke.” He pulls a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket, and lights it. His hand cupped to cover the breeze.

“Those’ll kill ya, you know?” you smirk, knowing. You’ve always teased him for his bad habits, especially this one. “Yeah well,” he says in an inhale, “now’s as good a’ time as any, right?”

He grins at you, smug. It sends you reeling and you hope your thundering heartbeat doesn’t give you away. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

After a few minutes of silence, he stomps his cigarette out on the pavement and turns to fully face you. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and your breath hitches in your throat.  Steve’s complimented you before, thousands of times. So why does this feel like you’ve just been slammed into a wall of concrete?

“Steve…”

You feel like he’s getting closer. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Before you can stop yourself or even comprehend what’s happening, you vomit all the contents of your stomach directly onto Steve’s perfectly polished loafers. He yelps, most in surprise, slightly in horror. Despite that undeniable foulness of the situation, his hands immediately move to hold your hair back, just in case you aren’t, well, finished. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He starts to lead you to his car in the parking lot, leaving you here alone not an option for him. “What about Nancy?” you sob, “I’ll come back and get her, honey. Don’t worry.” Honey. You almost puke again.

Once he settles you into the passenger seat of his pristine BMW, you watch as he toes off his shoes and throws them in the garbage. When he slides into the driver's seat and turns on the ignition, he turns and brings a palm up to cradle your jaw. “Guess I’m gonna have to keep an eye on ya next time,” he chuckles, “can’t handle your mildly spiked punch.” You groan, but give a breathy chuckle of your own, “Just drive, Harrington.”

When you arrive home, you breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of your family car in the driveway. Your mother would certainly pitch a fit if she saw you like this - mascara streaked down your face, an obnoxious yellow stain down the front of your once flawless dress. Steve leads you upstairs with a hand on the small of your back, and a palm cradling your elbow. You know you’re not drunk, and you’re almost positive that wasn’t the reason you spilled your guts. But the alternative to just letting Steve take care of you would be admitting that you love him, that you’re in love with him.

You don’t bother taking your makeup off, Steve just helps you change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Lights on or off?” He asks as he pulls the covers up and over you, “Off, please.” he gives you a little two-finger salute, “you got it.” Just as he’s reaching underneath your lamp shade you whisper, “Steve?” he looks, “yeah trouble?” “I’m sorry for ruining your night…and throwing up on your shoes.” you give a sheepish look. Even though he would have every right to be, you know he’s not mad at you.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head,”the shoes we can discuss at a later date,” he shoots you a wink, making sure you know he’s only teasing.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Without another word he closes the bedroom door, bathing you in darkness. Just before you succumb to sleep, you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re gonna remember this in the morning.

Cheers to senior year.

[alisonwritesimagines]

Picture Perfect ~Batmom Imagine~

Summary: Damien wants to take the perfect photo for you.

Author’s Note: Posting this from my drafts because it is time for it to come out of hiding.

BatFam Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: none, fluff

Do not repost this anywhere!

"Dick, sweetie. Please go tell Damian that he's going to be late for school. He's been upstairs for a while," you tell your oldest son as you tried to feed Martha.

"On it!"

Dick found Damian standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing his hair to his idea of perfection.

"Damian. Mom said you're going to run late for school," Dick tells him.

“I wanna look good for picture day for Ummi,” Damien tells Dick.

“You know mom will love your pictures no matter what.”

“I know that but I want this to be extra special. After she had Martha, she’s been busy,” Damien explains.

“You know mom loves us no matter what. Sure she may be busy with Martha but that’s because Martha’s a newborn. She needs the attention at the moment. But you know mom will give you attention again soon.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Just make sure you’re in the car in ten minutes,” Dick told Damien.

“Of course.”

“You look so handsome, Damien!” You tell your son as he rushed down to the kitchen. “Cassandra, honey. Your ballet is divine but please be careful.”

“Sorry mom.”

“Have a good day at school, Damien! I look forward to seeing your pictures when we get them!” You smile sweetly at him.

“It’ll be the best you’ll have,” Damien tells you as he rushed out of the house with a bagel.

The moment Damien stepped into the school, he felt victorious. He succeeded in going into school without messing up his hair. That was until a student tripped and spilled their water bottle onto Damien.

——

His picture was anything but perfect. Damien handed you the framed photo before looking down in shame.

“Aw. I love it!” You chirped happily as you hugged Damien.

“You do?” Damien asked, looking up at you surprised.

“Trust me Damien. I have at least one awkward photo of all my children and you have added to my collection,” you say as you kissed his head.

“You really like it?” Damien asked you.

“If you want to do a redo picture, that’s fine with me. But I will be keeping this one no matter what,” you tell him.

“So when Martha has an awkward photo…”

“I’ll keep that one too. As long as I continue to have photos of my children, I’ll love them all.”

“I’ll do something even more special for you to make up for this!” Damien promised.

“And I look forward to it. But for now, let’s go ahead and hang this up,” you tell Damien as you put it with your other children’s pictures on your wall. You admired the photo before looking back at Damien.

“As long as I have pictures of you all, I don't mind how they look," you tell him.

---

“Come on. What’s taking so long?” Tim asked as he walked into Martha’s room.

“Martha doesn’t want to wear the bow!” Stephanie tells him.

“Come on Martha. Put on the pretty bow. Please,” Tim asked. Martha stared up at her older brother as she shook her head.

“What’s going on?” Damien asked as he walked into the room.

“Martha doesn’t want to put on the bow,” Tim said.

“Let me try. Come here Martha. Let’s put on the bow,” Damien said as he put the headband on his little sister. Martha smiled up at her older brother before reaching up for him to hold her.

“Why does she like you more?” Stephanie asked.

“Because I spend more time with her. Now let’s hurry. Mom and dad will be home soon and I want this photo to be perfect."

Your birthday was always celebrated lavishly. Bruce would fly in your closest family and friends for a dinner and anything else you wanted to do. So Damien thought this would be the perfect time to make up that horrible picture he took for picture day. As well for his siblings to also make up their own awkward school photos.

“Thank you Bruce for throwing me my birthday party. And thank you all for coming and celebrating with us,” you say out loud to everyone at your party.

“We would actually like to surprise our mom with a present gifted to her by her children,” Dick announced after you. You and Bruce looked at them as the kids brought in a wrapped gift.

“From us to you Ma. Happy birthday,” Jason said. You opened up the gift to see a framed photo of all the kids dressed in suits and dresses with a smile on their faces. You teared up as you stared at the photo.

“I love it!” You say.

“Now you can have all of us in one picture,” Damien said.

“I love it. Thank you sweetie,” you tell him as you kiss his head.

“We also took some individual photos to make up for our awkward school pictures,” Tim mentioned as he handed you another present.

“Thank you. I love it so much,” you say as you cried from happy tears.

Bonus:

“Come on you guys! Damien promised me we’d go to the arcade after this,” Martha said as she dragged two of her older siblings into the room.

“Sorry! Traffic was bad,” Tim said as he stood in between Jason and Damien.

“Remember how Martha didn’t want to put in her bow until Damien asked nicely?” Stephanie asked Tim.

“Those were the good ol days,” Tim sighed.

“Alrighty! Ready?” Cassandra asked.

“Perfect! Okay kids. Smile right over here,” the photographer said before taking the picture of the batkids.

It had been a tradition for the kids to take a picture all together every year for your birthday present. It was to show how each of them have grown over the years. No matter what was going on, each batkid had agreed to meet up one day a year with no excuses to take the photo for you.

"I think this is our best one yet," Damien said as he looked at the photos.

"Aright, see you all next year," Jason joked as he walked out.

"Come on! We gotta go!" Martha told Damien.

"Okay. Okay."

[st7arlight]

ugh. something something Stanford's dehumanization, feeling the world is against him, but ultimately being the cause of his own inhumanity. "something is wrong with me" to "this thing makes me great" to "i am something new and revolutionary" to before he knows it, all of his other-ness is man-made. Tattoos in an alien language announcing his affiliation with an ancient god, a metal plate on his skull immunizing him to mental attacks. who's to say there aren't more changes? side effects from using himself as a test subject, an eye lost to bill now replaced with technology more advanced than our world knows. modifications to better communicate in alternative dimensions who use growls and purrs, fortification to his teeth and digestive system to be able eat most foods in times of scarcity. of course he changed, he thinks, it's been thirty years. He's matured and learned to survive. of course he's different, he's always been different. he doesn't realize that nobody is bothered by his extra fingers anymore, nor his intellect. they are unnerved by the way he knows who is in a room and where without having looked at them. the way his breathing and heart rate slows in the face of adrenaline, like a predatory animal preparing to strike. the way he rarely smiles with his teeth, and when he does, it feels like a warning.

[nostalgiaclown]

Hey do you think there's a deeper meaning or reason Spite looks just like Lucanis...

There's the scene by the fireplace and I picked up on how Lucanis closes his eyes as he turns his head to avoid looking at Spite...

It's like looking in a mirror, right, and your reflection is staring back as you deliberately hurt yourself with your words.

Lucanis, I think, is stuck in a cycle of 'It’s all I know.' 'It's what I'm good at.' But there's cracks there that hint this isn't who he wants to be...

"Death is my calling."

I don't think he actually believes that, but he has to tell himself that, right?

I don't think he's ever been given the chance to explore who he wants to be, he's just been told this is who he is...

Demons are bound when you 'tell' them what they are so loudly that it's all they can hear. They have to be what you want." But a spirit who evolves to become more of a "real person" is less malleable than a spirit and if they have the certainty of who they are and who they desire to be, they can resist binding entirely.

Did someone else bind the spirit to him by force? Corrupt its nature so fit the needs of the user?

If Spite was originally Love (as I've seen some people comment Love being the opposite of Spite) and they were forcibly bound to Lucanis for whatever reason, did that cause Love to twist into Spite?

I think we're going to have to heal both Lucanis and Spite from whatever grief or trauma they've been through, make him come to terms and accept whatever fucked up thing happened, so it sticks, and he stops just "wiping the slate clean".

He comes across to me as a guy who's just like going through the motions, and needs more of a push to change, for himself.

Nevertheless, it is not unheard of for spirits to evolve and become more "human" by coming to terms with grief, heal from being emotionally hurt, and thus be able to learn from what they endured. By coming to terms with grief, a spirit is able to grow as a person and not "wash clean" like a spirit."

Then I was reading up on spirit healers, and again, there's that same theme of trust here, the spirit trusting the 'mage' and also the loss of trust when being tricked by a benevolent spirit...

To gain the services of such benevolent and righteous beings requires that the mage earn their trust. Often this requires a series of trials to prove that the mage's goals are as noble as the spirit demands, though some mages have claimed to command the compliance of such spirits through sheer force of charisma.

So if Spite was Love, imagine if the trust was broken from the get-go, by whoever brought them over from the fade, that surely would cause Love to twist into Spite?

More than one tale exists of a spirit healer being fooled by a demon masquerading as a benevolent spirit, and inadvertently bringing them across the Veil... or being tricked into letting down their guard, and possessed.

On the flip side, Lucanis is not a mage(?) but if he needed help or something idk- and he was tricked and possessed that way - tricked by 'Love'? Owch, the loss of trust there...

Oh and if Spite just a spirit of Love that was corrupted by Lucanis' own feelings? Like how Justice twisted into Vengeance(?)

We know Lucanis is relearning how to trust, and he's a romantic.

How can you trust others If you don't trust yourself? Spite feels like intrusive thoughts made manifest... And how can you Love others if you have no Love left for yourself? Spite seems to be chipping away at Lucanis slowly... he looks so tired.

What exactly happened to him, I wonder, I can't wait to find out cause it's gonna hurt...

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

if you’re looking for stevie requests can i suggest eddie having to come to terms with steve and reader getting married/announcing theyre expecting and seeing how good he treats her compared to how eddie treated her when they were together (eddie was a fuckboy.

Request by anon.

Angst and fluff. Happy ending for reader.

Steve Harrington x Reader/Past Eddie Munson x Reader.

I'm not going to lie, I flew through writing this. It was just what I needed (to write some angst and sweet Steve content) and the story just flowed out so fast.

❤️

Eddie didn't regret many things in life but losing you was the one that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

He should have treated you like a princess, instead he treated you like shit. It took a while for him to admit it, he strung you along and made you think his feelings were deeper than what they actually were.

In reality he was a typical fuckboy and messed around with your heart.

He was arrogant and cocky, assuming that you would never leave him. He dated other women and never gave a thought to how much it would hurt you.

Eddie assumed that he could come back and forth into your life when he felt like it, indulge in some great sex and then leave.

Then one day he decided to look you up while he was in town after being away for a little while.

Sometimes he travelled with Corroded Coffin doing gigs up and down the country, so when he ended back in Hawkins he figured he'd visit you and have some fun.

You can imagine his shock when he turned up at your house and Steve fucking Harrington answered the door, he was just in a towel and was smiling like the cat had got the cream.

"Harrington? What the fuck are you doing here?" Eddie snaps and there's a sinking feeling in his chest, a sense of knowing what's happening before anything is even said.

"Visiting my girl. What are you doing here Munson? If you're here for any booty call then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed" Eddie is silent for a moment and is about to speak when he hears you calling Steve's name.

You appear at the stairs beaming at Steve, the smile slips from your face when you meet Eddie's gaze.

"Back again huh? What's it been six months since I last heard from you Munson? I don't know what you think I am but I'm not an idiot...or maybe I was but not anymore. I'm with Steve and he treats me right, much better than you ever did. I suggest you leave"

He's stunned by your admission and looks to Steve who's gazing at you with complete love in his eyes. Shit...

The thing is the same love is mirrored in your eyes as you gaze back at Steve, the sight leaves Eddie feeling vaguely sick. He backs away from the door and practically high tails it away.

When he leaves Hawkins later that week, he's sure the next time he comes back this little fling of yours with Steve would be over.

Turns out he couldn't be more wrong.

❤️

Dustin is the one who tells him that you and Steve have gotten married. Steve has proposed on your one year anniversary and the two of you had gotten married in a small ceremony with just close friends and family.

To say it was like a punch to his gut was an understatement. By that time it had been almost a year and a half since Eddie had seen you and when he went back to Hawkins for his usual visit, he expected that you and Steve would be over.

He didn't expect you would be married.

It was hard to see you around town with Steve. You looked so happy and it was finally dawning on Eddie that he had lost something special.

A little while after the wedding you announced that you were pregnant. Uncle Wayne had passed on the news and gave Eddie a look of severe disappointment. Oh Wayne was delighted for you and Steve but he was pissed at Eddie and Eddie didn't blame him.

His uncle had warned him not to mess you around, that you could be special if Eddie just gave you a chance and stopped messing around.

Boy did Eddie regret not listening to the old man. Regretted every way that he had broken your heart and stomped on it and there was no way he could fix things or even hope to win you back.

Because Steve treated you right. Treated you a princess and doted on you. He made you smile and laugh instead of making you miserable.

It was Eddie's fault that he lost you and now he had to deal with the reality of that. You had truly moved on and Eddie was left with an aching heart.

If only he had treated you like a princess instead of treating you like a fool.

It turns out that he was the biggest fool of all for losing you.

[hauntingrabbits]

Happy Batman day! Went back and finished the last batch of the MLP AU I had sketched way back in May.

Part 1, Part 2

More info under the cut!

Enigma/The Riddler (Edward Nygma)

Intelligence and puzzle-solving are deeply valued among sphinxes, and those who fall short of their standards are often ridiculed and cast out. Among some (prejudiced) Sphinxes, other sapient, non-Sphinx species such as ponies are looked down-upon or seen as fundamentally inferior for not putting as much stock in puzzles and the like as sphinxes do.

Enigma, though considered a prodigy for his remarkable intelligence and skill with puzzles even among his fellow Sphinxes, was ostracized when a pony unfamiliar with Sphinx culture (a younger Sundown traveling Equestria for his training), humiliated Enigma by unraveling a puzzle of his that was meant to be judged as his final submission in a prestigious event, permanently staining his reputation and wounding his massive ego.

After years of quiet ridicule from his peers and his own growing obsession over the event, Enigma eventually snapped and fled to Gotham for revenge. His contempt has since spread far beyond that of the original pony he wished to prove his superiority over, and he now makes all of Gotham the target of his obsessive schemes, constantly trying to prove his superiority and feed his ego by putting ponies through his elaborate puzzles and riddle-based traps. He sees Batpony’s skill and determination in foiling him as both an inherent challenge to and a slight against his own abilities, reminding him far too much of that original pony from so long ago. 

Other notes:

-Apparently sphinxes in MLP have pony heads instead of human heads which makes sense I guess but it threw me through such a loop man.

-Whilst traversing the wiki I ended up with the same problem I had with chimeras in the first post where only one ever shows up in the series and there's no other info on them. So I made stuff up again.

- I imagine Sphinxes live a very long time, so the event Enigma was embarrassed at would probably take a long time to roll around again and he'd be forced to stew with his anger and wounded ego for far too long. I'm not sure what the puzzle was exactly or how Sundown dismantled it, but I imagine he did something extremely simple that a Sphinx would never have thought of (a la that software engineering joke), making it feel far more unfair and humiliating than if he'd solved in the intended way.

-His naturally crooked tail settles into the shape of a question mark, and the pattern on his arm is meant to look like a stylized question mark wrapping around his forearm (the "dot" is the white of his paw).

2. Miss Friday (Miss Tuesday)

Enigma’s teenaged assistant, Miss Friday seems to be the only pony the sphinx enjoys (or perhaps simply tolerates) the company of. Beyond her having met Enigma in Tartarus during their simultaneous imprisonments, the exact origins of her relationship to and exceptional status with her boss are a bit of a riddle in of themselves. Regardless, the two seem to have something of a mutual understanding, and Miss Friday’s mental prowess and dubious moral code are more than a match for Enigma’s own.

Other Notes:

-Yes this is a "The horse's name was Friday" joke. I'm sorry it was just too good to pass up.

-Miss Tuesday already sounded like a MLP name, but the horse named Friday thing was just too perfect for somebody who works under a guy who's whole thing is riddles. Also I relistened to the BTAA episode where she's introduced while coloring her and I noticed they reference His Girl Friday several times, so fun coincidence?

-The candy-striped leg patterns are based on her canon costume's striped pants & are meant to mirror the Riddler's wrapped leg pattern. The dark patterns on her face are supposed to be reminiscent of eye bags.

3. Mania (Bat-Mite)

Bat-Pony’s self-proclaimed biggest fan, Mania is a Draconequus embodying the spirit of obsession. Normally he watches the hero from his own dimension, but at times he tries to insert himself into the narrative or help Sundown fight, both to varying degrees of success. Though he genuinely adores Bat-Pony, Mania is usually more of a hindrance than a help, and can even be directly antagonistic at times when his obsession goes too far. 

Other notes:

-Similar issue to Chimeras and Sphinxes, only two Draconequuses (Draconequui?) show up in the series, one being Discord (embodying chaos), the other being a comics-only villain known as Cosmos (embodying malice), but honestly what little we're given worked super well for the character anyway. Discord seems to come from his own unique plane of existence/dimension and Cosmos has similarly strange origins; both have penchants for causing mischief with incredible reality-warping powers; and both embody non-physical concepts. Bat-Mite being a reality warping 5th dimensional creature obsessed with Batman was surprisingly easy to adapt.

-He has the head of a pony, a ferret-like body, two front rat paws, mite antennae, an insectoid wing, a bat wing, a pigeon foot, a chevrotain (mouse deer) foot, and a monkey tail. I tried to have him mostly made up of animals that were very small, seen as mischievous, and/or seen as pests.

4. Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley)

Said to be more plant than pony, Poison Ivy is the self-proclaimed princess of the Green. Though once a regular Earth pony, she began to spiral after receiving her cutie mark and fully coming into her powerful natural attunement to plant life. Fleeing into the nearby forests on the outskirts of Gotham, she wasn’t seen again until many years later when Gotham’s city refurbishment and expansion efforts began to encroach on the forests borders, where she reemerged with strange new powerful magic and retaliated violently.

Though she isn’t recognized politically or physically as an alicorn, plants grow from the flesh of her body in the pattern of a horn and wings characteristic of those born into or bestowed with royalty, and the strange natural magic that accompanies them seems to almost rival that of a true alicorn’s.

Other notes:

-I dont really have anything to add to this one I just thought a false alicorn would be a cool concept.

-the whole alicorn royalty thing is very strange to think about isnt it? I feel like the ruling class having such insane amounts of physical and magical power probably has much more pressing ramifications than ever was, would, or should be addressed in a kids show but they are fun to think about.

-Her actual name is Poison Ivy, yes. It sounded like a pony name. I don't know what that says about her parents.

-The leaf wings are folded down in the graphic but I think they are flighted, or at the very least useful for gliding and expressing emotions.

5. Saltbrine (Oswald Cobblepot)

Short, stout, and flightless, Saltbrine’s moniker of “The Penguin” has its origins in the taunts of his peers from his youth. Though the title has persisted into the current day, it’s often spoken with far more fear and trepidation throughout the alleys and backstreets of Gotham than ridicule. Saltbrine owns two of Gothams most well-known businesses, one being the luxurious, high-class Iceberg Lounge…and the other being the organized crime syndicate the former acts as a front for.

Other notes:

-Again don't have much to add to this one. One of my favorite designs though, I love the giant beak face.

-The bird half is actually based on a puffin, because a penguin felt too on the nose for Oswald and too strange for a hippogriff (I couldn't get the wings or face to look right at all either). I feel like the title being an insult works a little better if he's not literally half-penguin.

-he's the same color my club penguin avatar used to be (RIP)

[matrixbearer2024]

“Daddy dearest can't save you now squirt! You're mine!”

Aeschylus has nightmares about a familiar chaotic triangle we yeet around because LORE! I'm planning to make a comic about him waking up from the nightmare because holy SPAZZ he needs some good shit to recover and help with this.

More lore and context under the cut:

Way back when Aeschylus was a kid he used to adventure out of the shack and into the woods to explore and or bring back neat little critters to ask papa Sixer about(despite his mom having scolded them both about bringing random specimen of all kinds into the house). The behavior didn't really stop even after Ford got sucked into the portal, hell it happened more often because Max kept looking for his dad- convinced he just got lost on an expedition or something similar.

However, as you all know how Cipher messes with everyone's minds when granted the opportunity- the triangle tried to beeline for the kid that most resembled his darling Fordsy in both personality and behavior when the researcher finally grew wise to his shenanigans. He didn't really have many opportunities to for a couple years because of Stanley and Ford's wifey protectively hovering over the triplets but Bill would say waiting four earth years was well worth the return for the damage he had inflicted.

All it took was a little bit of stroking that same flame of curiosity as he did Sixer and Aeschylus was all his for the taking. Like father, like son, Bill couldn't have found it more amusing. Slowly he guided the kid deep into the forest, away from the eyes of mother mayhem and uncle irritating.

Much to the triangle's annoyance however, Aeschylus was more cautious of him than Ford ever was. The kid refused to make a deal with him and even tried running away at some point when he finally realised what the triangle was trying to do.

"Nu-uh! You're the weird guy that made my daddy crazy! My mommy says to never make a deal with you!"

Bill was pretty pissed at this point that his plans are being proper screwed with so he forced his hand.

"If you're not going to give me access to your head, I'll just take it then!"

Imagine having taken your eyes off your eldest toddler son for just a second only to find him suddenly gone. It took so much strength to even allow the kids outside of the cabin you called your home ever since Cipher started haunting you and the family since Ford's unfortunate incident with the portal. To find Aeschylus missing would've driven anyone at that point into a flurry of panic.

When Stan came out to check on the both of you, his expression of dread and anxiety merely mirrored your own to a lesser extent. The two of you immediately shouting for the kid as you checked the nearby area thoroughly, the both of you making your ways deeper into the forest surrounding the log cabin cautiously.

It was Stanley who found Aeschylus first, seeing the kid strung up high into the canopy was eerie enough but noticing he wasn't responsive made the panic shoot sky high. There was some kind of large furry creature that poked and swat around the young boy like a pinata which Stan immediately threw hands with the get rid of the darn thing in his emotional high.

You heard the screaming and shouting and rushed over before feeling sick to your stomach, there your kid was- but strung by the neck by a vine so high he seemed to nearly be a part of the forest canopy. You steeled yourself and pulled the small pistol from your pocket which your husband had made prior with the intention to use it for hunting creatures.

Who knew it's first use would be as a pivotal tool to save your son?

Despite shaky hands and eyes blurred with tears, your aim rang true and the ion blast burnt the vine clean a couple inches above the toddler's head. You didn't account for the tall drop however, as the priority was first and foremost to get him down before he was hung to death.

Thankfully, Stanley had been paying close attention as he managed to catch Aeschylus with a loud grunt. The kid was dropped on him like a bomb multiple times both literally and metaphorically but this moment falls under the former. Your stomach dropped to the floor when you also started to smell the familiar metallic tang of blood.

It wasn't rocket science for both you and Stanley to know that you needed to rush Aeschylus to the hospital, especially as the vine around his neck unwound to leave a large and nasty wound that seemed to circle around his entire neck. The vine itself was thorny and barbed but it had apparently dug deep enough into the kid's skin to cut.

Stanley drove to the hospital like a bat out of hell while you kept a towel firmly pressed into your son's neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The kid was breathing but shallowly, not to mention he was turning paler by the second.

You and Stan were never really religious, but you could both only really pray to whatever deity was up there if there even was any- to keep Aeschylus alive. You wondered how much your husband would've lost his shit had he been here, but you swallowed down the grief at the reminder of him as your in-law pulled into the ER parking lot.

Memories from that point on were a blur, you could only be grateful that despite the apparent tension between your husband and his twin brother- Stanley didn't just leave your family behind. He was expectedly dejected that he wasn't even told about the triplets getting born, much less his brother getting married, but he still stayed to care for you all in place of his brother. Not to replace him, but to do what he knew Poindexter would've and should've had he not been stuck wherever the portal threw him.

By the time you'd been able to see Aeschylus again, the doctors claim that it's a miracle the kid even survived. It's as if just enough pressure was put on his neck not to kill him but to make him suffer. He didn't pass out from oxygen deprivation, but from the pain.

You fell to your knees sobbing when you heard that, already knowing what or who was responsible rather because of their words. Aeschylus couldn't talk for a couple weeks due to this incident, and even afterwards his voice had changed due to the damage.

You regretted this moment every single day afterwards, all the more when your son even refused to step a foot outside anymore. He refused to explore the woods he once loved, the woods your family used to stroll by sunset or camp out in when Ford was still around.

Aeschylus started wearing high-collared shirts or turtlenecks to hide the scar as well, not telling anyone exactly why or how he got into that situation in the first place as everyone in the family already had an inkling or hunch. They didn't need to ask. He didn't want to be shifted to homeschool however, as much as you and Stan tried to convince him- since he seemed determined to study for whatever reason.

This event still gives Aeschylus nightmares until the present day, Bill Cipher didn't get into his head- but the triangle got damn well close and he would've had to pay his life if you or Stan hadn't found him.

Those same nightmares is why Aeschylus barely manages to sleep, having developed insomnia out of the fear and paranoia around the same time he was able to come home from the hospital. Even if you asked him now what was the scariest experience in his life, Aeschylus would likely mention this near death experience- as nothing else in his life has ever come quite close to this incident, not even weirdmaggedon.

Sketchy for this piece is here:

[pedroshotwifey]

Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 

Smooth, you think. 

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 

You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 

Oh thank God. 

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

He gives you a hug and closes your door. 

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 

“I’m hungry.” 

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 

through your earbuds. 

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 

“What all are we going to be doing?” 

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

[raspberry-pastries]

Just read Batman the black mirror and oh?? My god??

James Gordon Jr is SUCH a good villain his monologue and thought process is fascinating and he’s quickly risen to my top 3 Gotham villains. Like as a babs and dick villain he works so well as a contrast and something to challenge them emotionally and mentally. The whole reveal that everything that had happened before this point had been orchestrated by him?? I was on the edge of my seat did not see it coming in the slightest. I love how he is so unapologetically but realistically evil; he was so disconcerting the entire comic they captured that atmosphere perfectly!

Also glad to see Dick is following in Bruce’s footsteps and has an enemy with a homoerotic one-sided obsession with him. Alongside being a childhood friend too like Harvey so it’s two-in-one lmao. Imagine monologuing as your sister is bleeding out behind you that you came back to Gotham for the first time in like a decade because a guy you’ve been thinking about since childhood became Batman and you wanted to break him down because you see yourself as his reflection, his opposite.

This whole scene was basically a love confession like?? This bitch is gay and evil good for him!

AND THE ART!! It’s so expressive, genuinely my favourite use of colour I’ve seen in a comic so far, the way every scene captures the emotion and tone perfectly it’s amazing!! It’s so soft but intense! Babs looks amazing as always and dick is there I guess…

One of the biggest gripes I have with nightwing stories is that they don’t establish recurring rogues or enemies very well,,, like bring James to Blud he’d love it there with the crime, brutality and corruption. It’s Gotham without the supervillains and flair.

Let Dick be a detective again and track him down, possibly as James is leaving a blockbuster-esque line of bodies of people Dick cares about. Maybe even frame him for murder like in the current TT run and make Dick try to outsmart him.

Basically please read this run!!

[omega-e123]

hiiiiiii✨️ i hope yor doing well! I heard you've been enjoying being fed lately so of its so problem id like to contribute to the food.

So imagine shadow finding out your insecure about the way you look. I imagine our edgy boy is removing all mirrors in the house or plastering then with notes to make his lover feel better. I imagine if its about weight he'll simply ask

Shadow: are you healthy? Then it doesnt matter your beautiful either way, if you weren't *he whispers and smirks* i wouldn't have the want to pin you against the wall and prove to your how pretty you are 😏

if you were insecure about your weight and really wanted to lose a little i imagine shadow would help to be sure you do it as safe as possible! He doesn't want you attempting something that could hurt you later on.

If it would help your insecuritys to gain weight he would do the same. Or if it was about your hair, this boy is learning to dye and bleach hair just to suprise you and make you happy.

(I imagine if you tkred to dye your hair he'd try to sneak in a strip of red to show hes yours in a little way😏)

In any case this boy would do anything to help you feel better about yourself, because he doesnt want your smile to fade.

That second one! “I’ll prove to you just how pretty you are.” Oh my god. I’d crumble right then and there—

Luckily for Shadow, I already have red and black hair LOL.

If he asks to put in a red highlight and you say no, he’s def pout about it. Being particularly protective, Shadow would try and convince you (not that it’d be hard to say yes to him).

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Recording Love

We I interrupt the baby-focused ramble train to share a thought/theory that popped into my head that has some smutty fun possibilities. This post will probably be short, but I'm still throwing in a quick Content Warning that this post contains a heck of a lot of Adults Only NSFW lewdness.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

Most people in the fandom remember this classic audio of Jack giving a villainous monologue, right? I've theorized in previous posts that Jack becomes stronger and more real the more his sunshine loves him, while conversely if they stop caring about him, he just might disappear. After all, it certainly sounds like the person Jack is talking to isn't his sunshine, which is something he can't do in the demo.

Well, at least as far as MC is aware, but that's a theory for another time.

It does make me wonder if MC being intimate with Jack via sex and telling him that they love him will make him more perceptible to others. That might mean the demo ends right before we get to see that something changed.

Also, given the fact that cats don't care for Jack and vice-versa, perhaps that's a sign that cats are more sensitive to ghosts(?) like Jack. It could be that after Jack asks, "Who's this?" we might get an interesting reaction from Shaun and/or Moon Pie...

But, again, another theory for another post.

It's hard to say what the progression will be like as Jack grows stronger thanks to his sunshine's love. Perhaps he'll be visible out of the corner of peoples' eyes at first. Maybe he'll appear as some sort of "glitch" in reality like a distortion in an analog tape. Maybe it'll start with just his voice being clearly audible before his body becomes solidly visible to others. Maybe he'll start off the way he became in the "no" route, untouchable while visually being there.

It's this thought about an analog distortion that reminded me that Jack can't be seen in mirrors or photographed. It's kind of interesting that the ghost(?) of a murdered TV show host who came from a VHS tape can't be filmed. Perhaps the first impact he might have on reality is the ability to be caught on video.

As another quick aside, this makes me imagine a tense scenario where Nick, Ian, and/or Shaun are using their phones to film the area around them, frantically looking for where Jack is, because he's not visible to the naked eye yet. His voice comes through their speakers, taunting them, and they only get glimpses of him in their sweeping shots before he gets them.

Man, there are so many possibilities for Jack being a really terrifying analog horror entity. But that's also for another post. This is one is about smut, and I need to stop getting distracted so we can get to the good stuff already.

Back on topic... it'd be kind of fitting that Jack's first real return to reality, outside of MC, is being recorded by them. He was once a famous star known nation-wide, recorded on film and audio tape. He was loved by so many because he was recorded. He came back to the world of the living thanks to a video tape. It'd be kind of poetic.

Heck, what if those recordings are what allow Jack to become fully human(?) If the love of MC got Jack this far, then maybe if they spread the word about him, uploading videos of him to the internet, and making the world know about him... Perhaps by being remembered by more people will give him a stronger foothold in reality, especially if they love him like they used to when he was on the SunnyTime Crew Show.

Perhaps the fastest way to make Jack real again is for MC to film them showing him lots of love~

Yes, this was all build up to suggest that the solution to Jack's problem is for him and his sunshine to film pornos together.

It'd be kind of fitting, don't you think? Especially in an NC-17 eroge. Not to mention that Jack does have that exhibitionist kink after all. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to show the world just how much he loves his sunshine and how much they love him~

Of course, not all MCs will be open to the idea of sharing such intimate recordings publicly. Heck, there'll be plenty not comfortable taking nude snapshots to share privately with a partner. I know my girl Alice wouldn't!

That was when I wondered... what might convince Alice to change her mind? At least to some extent.

See, what led me down this rabbit hole in the first place was thinking about what comes next in Sunshine in Hell, specifically the fact that Alice isn't just going to be ignore the giant clown shaped elephant in the room. MC did some testing and found out about the mirrors and photographs in the demo, but Alice is going to want to investigate more and get more proof. Either she's lost her mind, or she has a supernatural entity living with her. She needs to know which it is in order to know how to proceed.

Jack can't be photographed? Okay, but he can pick up objects. He can interact with Alice physically, and that can be recorded.

If you can't draw the subject for your picture, then you can show show it's there by emphasizing the negative space where it should be.

Alice is going to do some experiments. First she tries to film Jack juggling some balls he pulled out of his pocket. (Because clowns gotta juggle am I right?) The balls don't show up either. Neither does anything else Jack manages to just pull out of nowhere like his wardrobe changes.

Okay then, Jack can juggle, um... er... Alice looks around for something not breakable then finally gives Jack random writing utensils. She films him picking up pillows, moving furniture, making her bed, cooking food, etc. She could even film him writing messages on paper.

It certainly looks spooky to Alice seeing items moving around like that when she plays back the video.

A darn shame that there's hundreds of these sort of "ghost" videos online. It's amazing what people can do with homemade special effects and video editing software! Even if Alice wanted to post these online to see if this is something other people might know about or have a similar experience with, no one would actually believe it's a real ghost(?)

This led to thoughts of Jack using Alice's body as a more convincing prop of his presence. Of course, this would only be after they get together as a couple. He might suggest picking her up among the early experiments, but she wouldn't feel comfortable with that in the early days. It'd be a while later when Jack remembers the experiments that he decides to bring up the idea again.

Alice is a bit hesitant, not wanting to record herself and plaster it all over the internet, but Jack suggests this time they just do it for them. Even if they can't see him, it'd be cute to see how she looks in his arms from every angle.

Though a bit embarrassed, Jack does manage to convince Alice. It would be more proof that he's really there after all, even if they can't see him. Jack even spins her around a bit once they start filming, catching her off guard. He tells jokes to make her laugh, they banter playfully, and she surprises him in return with a kiss.

When playing back the recording, they see distortions, hints of someone there besides Alice, hints of a voice in the background laughing along with her and responding.

Then, for just a moment, just for a single frame, when Alice is kissing Jack, he's visible. He's distorted and not perfectly clear, but he's there, all blue haired and brightly colored.

It's a huge shock and Jack is practically vibrating with excitement. Alice can't help but be overwhelmed as well by it. Yes, by this point she was certain Jack had to be real, and she had other small bits of proof but this... this is so much more.

Jack wants to do it again. He needs to do it again. Alice is more than willing to help, and the two of them try a few more experiments, quickly realizing that it's when they show each other love that he becomes more visible.

This leads to some rather... intimate footage.

Jack takes it slow, knowing that Alice is insecure about her body and very shy. He starts off with playing with her hair, telling her sweet words of love. He encourages her to do the same to him as well, as that might help. He kisses her, blazing a trail down to her neck where he sucks firmly and nips, wanting to leave a mark on her skin in full view of the camera.

The more intimate they are, the more Jack appears in the video, more real and solid.

Alice is too shy about taking her clothes off while being recorded, but lets Jack slide his hands underneath her shirt. Even if the glitches won't show him in that moment, there's a perfect outline of his hands through the cloth, massaging her breasts. It feels so lewd, almost too much, but it's more proof that he's real. Jack makes sure to distract her by tweaking her nipples and whispering in her ear that she's being so good for him.

Huh. Sorry for another quick aside, but I'm suddenly reminded of all the fan art of Jack doing lewd things to MC's body while they're at work. It takes place when they're standing behind the counter, trying desperately not to react and let anyone know that they're having sex right there in public. There are security cameras all over the place, with only one blind spot that is definitely not where the front counter is. Maybe if this scene appears in the game, security footage of the incident is what gives Jack his first solid footing in reality.

Man, won't Barry be surprised. Imagine that phone call of the boss yelling at MC for having sex with their boyfriend right in front of the customers. And what the hell were they thinking letting someone who doesn't work there behind the counter?

Back to Alice and Jack experimenting... it'd be a slow progression of Jack encouraging Alice to try more and more. After all, the more love they show each other, the more Jack appears, the more he's heard. He's even visible at times when they're not actively groping at each other. Maybe they just need to go further.

Alice wants to help Jack interact with the world, and he's so happy about it, so excited... How can she refuse? Besides, no one will see these but the two of them. She's going to make absolutely sure to hide these videos where no one else can find them.

Boy would it be awful for a certain remorseful cheating ex if he came across these, wouldn't it? Good thing Jack won't let Ian near even a recording of Alice ever again.

Back to the good stuff. Jack fondles Alice through her clothes, makes her mewl and beg him for his touch. It's so lewd when playing back the video that she has a hard time watching herself in such a state, but he's sure to praise her during the viewing as well telling her how beautiful she is. He just adores the way she calls his name, how lovely she looks arching into him as she cums all over his fingers.

Next the clothes come off, for Jack at least, at first. He has no shame showing his body before the camera, especially when Alice is the one touching him, kissing him, and taking off all his clothes. He's visible the entire time in this video, more solid and defined when she's caressing and kissing him. They can see the way he laces his fingers through her hair when she goes down on him. Even the mess he left behind that she couldn't quite swallow all of remains visible on film while they get cleaned up.

Alice is mortified by how she looks, but Jack is right there to praise her, both in the video and in reality. Watching her get him off just gets him excited all over again, and he wants to do even more. He wants to repay the favor... while recording it. He wants her to see how beautiful she looks when he shows her love.

They've come this far, going further and further each time. Alice has seen herself so lewd already, so going this far is less scary by this point. Besides, it's been so helpful for Jack, and he's done so much to make her feel loved and adored, not used. He made the experience so much easier than she thought it could be.

Jack makes sure to angle Alice's body so she has a perfect view of what his mouth and fingers are doing to her. He makes sure to describe what he's doing as well whenever his tongue isn't otherwise busy teasing out obscene noises from her. The camera was initially aimed as a sideways view to show both of them and not so much a close up of her sex, but at some point Jack grabbed the phone to get different angles. He wanted to record Alice's expressions of bliss and give her a good look at just what he's doing to her body. He wants to see it all and share this glorious experience with his precious sunshine. He goes overboard groping and licking, making marks all over her thighs, breasts, stomach. It goes from just cunnilingus to a full body experience. They don't stop even after he makes her cum, as he wants to see her cum in more positions and get more angles of her in a state of bliss screaming his name.

It's their longest video. After worshipping her body so much and sharing so much of her pleasure, Jack eventually can't hold back anymore. He just has to be inside of Alice. Now. He needs it so, so badly.

The camera gets set aside, still angled at them, but Alice is too dazed to remember it even exists, and Jack is too desperate for her to want to mess with it anymore. When he's finally inside her, he has to take a moment to keep from exploding. Maybe it was all the build up and teasing, maybe it was from sharing one of his biggest kinks with the one he loves all day, maybe it's the act of doing this making him more real, but the feeling of being one with her is as intense as the first time they made love.

The first round is just for them in that moment, Jack just reveling in the pleasure and love he has for Alice and vice-versa. The next rounds are where he takes advantage of the camera, changing positions so that they get good shots without him needing to mess with the phone again but mindful of where the camera's lens is aimed. He keeps his sunshine's attention on him and the praise he showers her in the entire time so she doesn't think about the video. He adores seeing her like this, so needy for him and unashamed to show him just how much she loves him.

They only really stop when Alice is too exhausted to continue. Jack gently praises her and reassures her that he'll clean her up and take care of things. She's half-asleep when he mentions that he'll turn off the camera, and for a moment she wonders, what camera? But she's feeling too good and too tired to think too much about it.

Of course, Jack makes sure they watch the video after breakfast the next day. This one is the best yet. He's perfectly visible and audible the entire time, with nary a glitch in sight. Even when he's seen cleaning Alice up afterwards - while looking mighty pleased with himself and giving her adoring looks the whole time - he looks perfectly normal, perfectly human.

It's still embarrassing for Alice to see herself in such a state, and she certainly won't ever let anyone else see the video, but it worked. Now when they take videos of Jack, he remains in the recording, regardless of what the video is rated.

Still, even though they succeeded and technically they don't have to keep filming pornos to have Jack visible in the videos, it couldn't hurt to keep doing it, right? Just for the two of them of course. It was a lot of fun, don't you think~?

After all, it'd be nice to save these precious memories of how much they love each other captured forever on video so that they never forget~

Okay, I know I said this was going to be a short post, but I got carried away once I finally got the smutty ball rolling. I just can't resist indulging in my OTP, okay?

As another aside (as if I didn't have a ton of them throughout this post), if Jack is made stronger through his sunshine's love, maybe the reason why he has insane stamina is the more they love him, the more charged with energy he gets. I guess that incubus costume is more fitting than we all realized~

Really... aren't cubi created from dreams in legend? That might be something to explore in another post.

On that note, let's wrap things up. I'm sure there's plenty of MCs who would have a ton of fun not only filming themselves loving on Jack in the naughtiest of ways, but they might decide to share it with others if they're especially bold. A shame for any of the other love interests who might come across it.

You know, MC and Jack might get a lot of money for those videos if they start up a LonelyFans account. They could even do livestreams there like Nick does.

Funny how Jack might become Nick's biggest rival in more than just romance, don't you think?

I hope y'all enjoyed this silly, smutty romp of a theory!

[moirindeclermont]

Fashionable late but I was delayed by my own unlocking of the next stage. If you think a cold is bad, a cold with chronic sinusitis is way worse. But... This is literally the highlight of my day, so I could not miss it...

Today's episode of "All Polin's first times we didn't see" is about the first time they try 🐕

Pen reads about it in one of Colin's diary. It's from Colin perspective, but being her husband the sweetheart he is, he does mention in the diary that he asked the woman he was with if it was good for her too. She said that it varies but most women found it pleasurable, with someone who knows what they are doing.

Perhaps she should be jealous of the past lovers in Colin's life, but in her heart, she can't. First of all, they are not that many, truth to be told. He seems the loyal type, even when it comes to sex worker. Second and most important, they are not threats for their relationship. She is secure in her feelings for Colin and it's the same for him as well. Lastly, she kinda want to thank them for all the knowledge she is gaining into this aspect of their life.

Like this one lucky discover. She talks about it with Colin in the evening and he just laugh when she explain what she wants to try. "I should have realize that you'd use those diaries as research and exercises... Not that I'm complaining, wife." As he envelopes her in his embrace for a long and passionate kiss.

"Can I add something to your request, Pen?" And before she can answer he goes "Can we also use the mirror?"

She moans at that, imagine how them together in that position.

They start slow, their passion increasing in waves as they explore each other. Colin loves to stimulate her with at least his fingers and often with his mouth, and today is not an exception. "I want you open and relaxed for the next step, " he says as he makes her come loudly.

His favorite meal of the day, he calls it, and it definitely shows.

When she is ready, he helps her get into position. She sees herself, her face red and relaxed, her eyes trusting. Her curls all over the place, her breasts almost touching the mattress - Colin gives a good squeeze to both and looks at her in the mirror, "you're a vision, Penelope" and then he hets behind her, in between her legs. "Stop me of you don't like it," he makes sure to tell her and she nods. "Look at yourself in the mirror," and he starts to push.

She sees her mouth drop open and she can't resist closing her eyes for a moment, but then she reopens them, she wants to see. He is all inside her now, hands on her hips as he is giving both of them a moment. They look at each other through the mirror and Colin starts to thrust.

It seems much deeper than other positions they tried before and it's soooo good.

It's a bit of a blur after that, Colin speeding up and losing control. They are both moaning messes, Colin's eyes fixating on her face and her bosom, oscillating with the movements, adding another layer of stimulation for her. She sees his hand sneaking up on her body, towards her core and when he touches her pearl she comes with a shout, Colin right behind her. She collapse on the bed, her arms shaky and Colin is hugging her from behind, caressing her all over.

"Remind me to send flowers to all the brothels you've been, she says still breathless, and they laugh together at that.

"For what?" Colin find himself asking.

"But for all the wonderful ideas, Colin," she answers as if it's perfectly reasonable, and they start laughing again.