#light pollution is a bitch

[vile-wizard]

I need to travel. Just for once I want to look up at the night sky and see more than 5 or 6 stars.

[thatonegeekygirl]

i want to believe instead i look at the sky and i feel nothing

little song lyric art piece that i did for school today! words are from Chinese Satellite by Phoebe Bridgers.

[sleeplessphantom-0]

I miss the stars

[oflgtfol]

anyway i lowkey wanna make a big masterpost and/or essay or whatever like as a handbook to night sky observing. not just in a like, here's how to identify constellations, but in the like. here's how to ground yourself here on earth and see the actual orbital configurations of our heliocentric solar system by simply observing planetary motions in the sky. and observe the fact that the earth is round by watching the motions of the seasonal constellations and draw some celestial sphere diagrams. etc

i'm like especially interested in archaeoastronomy lately because of these exercises in trying to generate an actual bodily intuition around astronomy beyond the math and programming that i learned in school, because it's like, this is the version of astronomy that existed for millennia upon millennia until technology advanced enough to make more complicated observations and conclusions. we literally only had our own eyes, bodies, and minds to puzzle it over for most of human history. and trying to recreate this in myself by teaching it to myself through brief stargazing sessions and many many sessions in stellarium in my free time is like, idk. really eye opening. it's one thing to be taught in school that yeah the earth is round and the sun is at the center of the solar system and there's other planets, and it's another thing to then do complicated math under those assumptions, and it's a different thing entirely when you actually then go outside and see with your own human eyes that those facts are true of the physical world you exist in. these aren't just abstract concepts but things that occupy the physical space that you live in

[vaguehotels]

i love you like how little girls love to look up at satellites and call them spaceships because they secretly wish that someone would take them away off into space so that they could see the stars without all the city lights in the way

[cassatine]

found out a few days ago that one of the nearby villages doesn't do public lighting at night anymore, and everyone i've vaguely talked to about it thinks it's a great idea, soooo environmentally conscious, and it's so. infuriating. because it's not about the environment, at all. it's about cost-cutting. because here public lighting is paid for by town halls, and in the sort of rural areas i live in funding it is becoming more and more complicated -- there's a variety of factors, from the rising cost of electricity to the not-at-all rising funds avalaibles to small collectivities, but the point is, it's expensive, and a bunch of small towns are finding that by striking it out of their budget they can keep paying for other services.

but the thing is, talking about it like it is an environment-related policy only obscures what's really going on, which is the fact that our collectivities don't have the money they need; praising the end of public lighting in village XY is like saying it's a good thing the local hospitals had to close half their services, because now they use less energy and resources so it's better for the environment. public lighting is a public service, and we should talk about being deprived of it the way we should talk about being deprived of any other public service.

also!! no public lighting at night makes streets less safe, not because it gives the cover of darkness to evildoers, but for the very simple reason that when you don't see where the fuck you're going, you're more likely to get hurt, or lost (especially if you've had one drink too many). no public lighting at night also means more people will drive when they could have walked, even if they shouldn't (what with that one drink too many). it makes going out and gathering harder, whether it's for fun or for union meetings or to plan the destruction of our current society. there are negative consequences, is my point.

moreover, while no public lighting may be marginally better re: the environment, numbers-wise i'm not at all convinced it's gonna offset the sum total of the impact of like, private jets and yachts and big industrial polluters etc etc. even if it truly was about the environment, it still would be one of these policies that mostly impact and punish people at the bottom while doing nothing to actually change the status quo, ie the thing that actually neeeds changing.

[duckyfire]

Good night ! <3

[olive-gardens-breadstick]

Okay guys I want everyone to hear me out on this one okay? Bruce may be rich but he was still raised in new jersey. I need you all to know the only reason he doesn't act or sound like it is because he was raised in high society. I need you to know that I firmly believe his internal monolog in no way matches any actual words he says out loud or anything he would actually do.

*the JL arguing over how to go about getting information from some criminal*

Hal: okay and how would YOU go about this spooky?

Bruce, in his head: I say we force the information out of him, light him on fire and throw him in the harbor, where he will continue to burn because Gotham is a shit hole and the water is so polluted we have to out source water for the fire fighters.

Bruce, actually speaking: we follow protocol and turn him over to whatever law enforcement that has jurisdiction over him.

*bruce and Clark arguing over something petty in their personal lives*

Clark, trying to end the fight somewhat amicably: I just don't love it, but I will respect your opinion on the matter

Bruce, in his head: and I 'just don't love' that you're acting like a little bitch about it BUT HERE WE ARE FUCK FACE

Bruce, out loud: Hn, let's move on

*batfam comms during a slow night*

Dick: do you think the rogues finally figured out that they could spend their time doing something more productive to avoid getting their asses kicked?

Bruce, internally: i doubt they'd be able to figure that shit out if it jerked them off and bit them in the ass

Jason, three blocks over: are you fucking kidding me? Most of them wouldn't be able to figure that out if it came to them as a swift kick to the head, let alone a stray fucking thought

Bruce: hood, language.

Bruce, internally: that's my fucking boy :)

[myceyelium]

fellas her and i are going to an internationally recognized dark sky site to watch the perseids. i am beaming with joy

[ectoplasmic-astronaut]

Guys I hate the city so much- I'm visiting my mémère(who lives in a very small town/rural area) for the first time in a fucking LONG time and I'm sitting outside crying over the fact that the sky is actually BLUE at night???

And if I focus hard enough I can actually see stars- they're so pretty guys I haven't seen the stars since I moved to the city I'm actively CRYING OVER STARS.

[ratmanwalking]

Fuck living in a city i cant even look out at the stars at night

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 1

Gotham City Airport was, for better or worse, on the outskirts of the mainland, basically not even in the city, meaning that it was almost a straight shot from there to Bristol. Another place that isn't technically part of the islands that make up Gotham City, but who is Danny to judge? A spiteful bitch, that's right.

The car parked and he rushed out to grab his bags before Alfred could. Then, he made it a point to drag his feet the entire way up the drive to the doors of the Manor itself.

"Talk about old money," he muttered.

As he already knew, the sky that covered what he was calling the Gotham Archipelago and all of it's sister-cities-that-are-actually-a-part-of-Gotham-City-for-some-reason and Bludhaven was murky and blocked out all chances of seeing the sun, let alone the stars. He'd be amazed if he even saw a single person with a natural tan in this place.

And the cloud cover, despite what Gothamites would have everyone believe, isn't even clouds! Most of it's left over shit from rogue attacks that've found their way into the condensation cycle! Fear gas is too heavy to evaporate properly, but too light to stick to the ground; whatever Mr. Freeze puts in his ice sticks to whatever clouds there are like glue, holding them together and keeping them in place; light pollution from both the actual lights and the fires that start every week; whatever toxins have made it into the harbor and river; et cetera.

And don't even get him started on the names on the Rogue Gallery Roster! It's great and all that they're explaining their whole gimmick, but can't they be at least a little creative?

"Danny?" Damian said, making him realize that he'd made it to the gilded front door that was way too tall for any human.

Alfred pushed the doors open. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Danny," he turned with a smile, "You're home for as long as you'd like it to be."

Danny scoffed and hefted his bags up the stairs.

The entry hall was more befitting of the phrase 'Grand Lobby', somehow making the too-large doors seem normal. A grand staircase was carpeted red, leading up to the second floor. There was a gold and pearl chandelier, too, flanked by two smaller, identical chandeliers. Huge windows on wither side of the door were framed by red velvet curtains, open and letting whatever sun they could into the room.

He felt small. He hated it.

"If you'll follow me, Danny, I'll take you to your room." Alfred started to walk up the stairs, Damian following only a few steps behind him.

Danny didn't move. "I'm not sleeping in a room big enough to be an apartment."

Alfred turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "It would be inappropriate to put you up in the servant's quarters."

Damian was looking at Danny like a kicked puppy. Well, as much like a kicked puppy as his training allowed him to look. Danny didn't particularly care.

"Then stick me in a shed. I'd rather not spend the summer feeling agoraphobic, thanks."

"I can assure you that the others in the house-"

Danny interrupted Alfred by shaking his head. "I don't want anyone to know I'm here."

"But, then how will you patrol with us?" Damian asked.

"Go without me," he answered.

"Now, now, Danny," Alfred said as he walked back down the stairs, "I will not allow you to spend the whole summer cooped up in a garden shed."

"Great!" Danny smiled falsely, "Then I will take my things and go back-"

Alfred grabbed a hold of his bags and swiftly started his way back up the stairs. "Then you will simply have to go without your stuff. What will your mother think-"

"I don't have a mother." Danny spat, making the two others pause. He took a deep breath. "Fine. If that's how you want to play, then fine." He glared up at the two. "Game fucking on."

Part 3

[xneens]

wasted summer - one

series masterlist

watching jj like someone else hurts, thankfully, you finds comfort in rafe’s arms … and his bed.

Music boomed in your ears, the party in full swing as you made your way upstairs, away from the guys smoking weed and girls dancing to Kanye West. Using a guest room on the third floor, you opened the window and crawled out onto the roof. With a drink in hand, you watched partygoers jump into the Cameron's pool, observing the party from afar.

Taking a sip of the cheap vodka JJ had gotten, you glanced at the blond, a frown on your lips as you saw him sweep Kiara off her feet, jumping into the pool with her. Kiara likes JJ, that much you know is true after she had drunkenly confessed during a girl's night out. Bitterness grew inside you as you watched him respond to her subtle flirting, praying desperately he didn't return her feelings but your own.

You look away, downing the rest of the cup before throwing it off the roof in hopes of it hitting someone. Hopefully either one of them, but they were still playing in the pool. Together.

"Littering on my property? Harsh." a voice behind you murmurs as he crawls out the window, sitting beside you on the roof. Rafe grins at you, bringing the blunt to his lips.

You roll your eyes, keeping them on him instead of the heartwrenching scene below you. "Like you haven't littered at my house before. Payback."

"So vengeful ever since you started hanging out with those Pogues." Rafe chuckles, offering you a hit off his blunt. You decline it with a wave of your hand and he shrugs, taking another hit off of it.

Glancing back at JJ and Kiara, you can't help the pang in your heart as you watch them play in the pool, splashing each other with large smiles on their faces. Sighing, you look back at Rafe, suddenly wishing you'd brought a bottle of Titos with you.

Rafe arches a brow, a smirk dancing on his lips. "What're you doing up here, anyways? Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Scooby gang?"

Not wanting to be in his eyesight, you lay down on the roof, staring at the night sky, the lights from the party polluting the starry sky. "I needed a break."

"From those dirty Pogues?"

You smack his arm, causing the blond to burst out laughing. "Stop bullying my friends."

"Bullying works," replied Rafe, shifting to mirror your position. He groans softly as he lays back on the roof. "Remember Agatha Haynes? She no longer smokes fifty cigarettes a day after you called her Hagatha."

A snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. You shake your head. "God, I was a bitch."

"You still are." Rafe dodges another smack, a teasing grin slapped across his face. "Still the spoiled, snobby, selfish girl you were. You're just better at hiding it now."

"Oh, and the hits just keep coming." You groan out dramatically, smiling back at him. "I'll have you know that I am very empathetic and care about other people's feelings.”

The blond shakes his head, taking a hit from his blunt. "Is that why you're hiding out from your gang of mutts? Because you care about them so much you don't want them to know you're suffering in silence?"

"I wish you'd suffer in silence."

"Woah, don't violate the thirteenth-year truce," Rafe replies, drawing out a reluctant smile from you.

Rafe was ... Rafe. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth, acted like every rich kid from Figure 8, only worse, and knew how to get his way. The only fight the blond had lost was to a coked-out tourist to who Rafe ironically sold the coke.

Most people didn't see that he could be nice when he wanted to. You always held it above everyone that Rafe Cameron had a soft spot for you, even if it only came from being his little sister's best friend. Still, it was nice to be one of the few people not to be on the receiving side of his hostility, a side Sarah was constantly on.

It was a weird friendship built on a truce made by four and six-year-olds. During your fourth birthday party, Rafe had gifted you with a promise to never be the cause of your tears and you promised to never cut holes in his tighty whities again.

After a few minutes of silence, Rafe turns his head to look at you, exhaling out smoke. "Seriously, though, why are you hiding?"

"Not hiding, taking a break." You correct him, refusing to meet his eyes. He wasn't completely wrong, you were hiding from your friends, specifically two of them.

"That's such bullshit." scoffs the man next to you, rolling his eyes at your words. "Tell me."

You groan, covering your face with your hands in hopes of hiding your embarrassment from him. "No. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Stop being nosy."

Rafe snickers, putting his blunt out before grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your face gently. Eyes filled with serenity, a sight only you and Wheezie ever got to see. "Tell me, you know I won't tell anyone."

Your playful pout makes his grin widen. "You'll make fun of me."

"Me? After our truce?" asks Rafe, throwing his head back in laughter. "Never."

After contemplating whether to lie to his face, you sigh, rubbing your temples. It couldn't hurt to tell him, it's not as if he ever told anyone stuff you've told him before. "Kiara likes JJ. And ... I think he likes her back."

An awkward moment of silence hangs in the air before Rafe inhales sharply. "Oh. I didn't realize you wanted to fuck the help."

"Rafe." your tone made him throw his hands up in surrender. Staring back up at the sky, you scrunched your nose. "I kind of like him. It just sucks a little seeing them so touchy with each other and flirting in my face. If they become official, then I'll literally be the only person in the friend group without anyone. I'll be a seventh wheel and that's so fucking pathetic."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," says Rafe, scoffing. "My sister found someone who puts up with her shit, you'll have an easier chance finding a boyfriend. If you don't like anyone, I'll volunteer."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his not-so-comforting words. "Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

The blond chortled, sitting up. "I'm serious. Anyone who isn't blind can see you're clearly much better than those idiots you hang around. The girls you hung out with were annoying as hell but at least they were better than those group of Pogues."

"How very Kook of you to say," you mutter back, not taking Rafe's words earnestly. Shifting, you sit up, eyes flickering back to the pool, immediately spotting Sarah and John B., Pope and Cleo, and JJ and Kiara still playing with each other. "I don't know, they probably don't care I'm not with them right now."

You could feel Rafe's eyes burning a hole in your face, his lack of insults to throw at your friends making you uncomfortable. Anything was better than silence when it came to Rafe. Silence meant he was thinking and you almost always never liked what he was thinking of.

He stands up before holding his hand out, gesturing for you to take it. "Come on, let's get you something to drink. It'll cheer you up."

You immediately take his hand, standing up. "Don't need to convince me."

"None of that cheap shit you've been drinking. My dad has some expensive whiskey he keeps in his study." Rafe adds, climbing back through the window with you right behind him. He doesn't let go of your hand, even after you climb back inside.

Rafe leads you through the swarm of people in the hall, heading towards the second floor for his dad's office. He pushes a guy away from the door, unlocking it and holding it open for you to enter. You step across the threshold, glancing around Ward's office as Rafe shuts the door behind him.

You'd been in Ward's office a handful of times, most times with Sarah and one time with Ward himself when you had skinned your knee riding a bike and he bandaged it up. Being inside the warm-lit room with Rafe felt strange and slightly tense.

Plopping down on the big leather couch, you watch Rafe walk towards the desk, raiding his father's desk drawer until he finds the big bottle of GlenDronach. He grabs two glasses, sitting down beside you as he pours the amber liquid.

You scrunch your nose at the smell. "God, I can smell the hangover."

Rafe smirks, pouring too much into both of the glasses, capping the bottle back up. "Nah, if anything this will help you sleep. It goes down smooth."

You take the glass from Rafe, wincing at the strong musk of the whiskey before downing half the bottle like a shot, immediately coughing after swallowing it down. Rafe's brows furrowed as he watched you slam the half-filled glass down on the coffee table, exasperated. "That did not go down smooth."

"It's sipping whiskey, you don't drink it like a shot of vodka." the blond clarifies, judgment and confusion in his tone. "Who the hell takes a shot of whiskey?"

Glaring at him, you cough out the burning in your throat. "Get me a Sprite, motherfucker."

An amused smirk dances on his lips as he stands up and opens Ward's mini fridge, pulling out a cold can of Sprite. He opens it before handing it to you, sitting back down. "I just witnessed a crime."

You gurgle half the can, soothing your burning throat before glaring at him. "I don't like the taste of alcohol, I just drink it to get drunk. Besides, people who actually enjoy the taste are psychopaths."

"You never miss the chance to tell me I am," Rafe replies, grinning as he takes a more moderate sip of his whiskey. He makes an approving expression, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"You can have mine. I hate it." You push the glass in front of Rafe, leaning back on the couch. Rafe sipped his glass of single malt whiskey while you drank a can of Sprite. "Worse thing I've swallowed. And there's competition."

Rafe makes a face at that, shaking his head. "Please, no details of how the help was in your mouth."

Smacking his arm caused a drop of his whiskey to spill over the side. "Stop calling my friends the help, you snarky asshole."

The blond gives you a look, setting his glass back down on the table. "Maybank helped me carry my golf clubs at the club last week. I can't think of a better title for him. It's in the name."

You roll your eyes, downing the rest of your drink. Rafe could carry his own golf clubs so you knew he sought out JJ's help specifically to taunt and mock him. "If I get the lifeguard job, are you gonna start calling me the help?"

His eyes softened slightly, head tilting towards yours. "No, of course not. You're far better than anyone else, even if you decide to get an unnecessary job.”

"Even better than you?" you arch a brow, watching his lips quirk up in a genuine smile.

"Always," replies Rafe.

Heat pools in your stomach, the whiskey's delayed effect. You glance away from Rafe's sharp eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift on the couch, making yourself more comfortable. "It's not unnecessary, by the way. The job. It looks good on my transcripts."

"Hm, still going to Charleston?"

You shrug, staring at the insurmountably large portrait of Denmark Tanney in Ward's office. "I don't know. My parents want me to, and I'll get into it but I don't wanna be so close to home, you know?"

Rafe's brows furrowed, a frown tugging on his lips. "Where are you thinking?"

"Either New Orleans or London," you answer, pulling a laugh out of Rafe. "Yeah, a wide range of possibilities for me."

"You don't wanna go to Charleston?" questioned Rafe, his eyes never leaving yours. A look of displeasure passes his face. "It's not that close, seven hours."

You make a face, shaking your head. "Seven hours is too close for me.”

The blond scoffed, leaning forward to sip his whiskey.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you observed him. Teasingly, you ask. "What, you gonna miss me when I leave?"

"I thought it was obvious," Rafe replied, downing the rest of his glass. He shifts on the couch, placing his arms on top of it, giving you a sardonic grin. "I think Charleston is far enough."

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time that night, you lay your head back, sighing. "You can come visit me anytime. Just don't bring anyone. Especially not Topper or Kelce."

"Ah, I wouldn't wanna walk in on you and your victims." jokes Rafe, patting your thigh softly. "Wouldn't be the first."

You laugh, winking at him. "Maybe you'll be my next victim."

Rafe raises a brow, leaning back slightly as he stares at you. "Don't tease me, I have no self-control when it comes to you."

"Yes, I think that was clear when you sent Tom Schnitzel to the ER for trying to drug me," you reply, inhaling sharply at the memory. You were positive you still had Tom's blood stained onto the white top from that night. "Thanks for that, by the way. I don't think I properly thanked you for that."

Rafe waves it away with a hand, standing. "Don't worry about it. I needed to get it out that night, anyway. Come on, I have something to show you."

Curious, you follow Rafe out of the office, walking down the hall to his room. He opens the door, motioning for you to enter. Immediately, you plop down on his bed, laying out on the soft mattress as he closes the door behind him. You watch him walk towards his dresser, turning around with a small jewelry box, a bow sitting on the top.

"What's that for?" you ask, taking the box from Rafe, and inspecting it.

He sits on the edge of the bed, eyes watching you fiddle with the box. "Your birthday present."

"It's not for another month."

Rafe shrugs, grinning. "Consider it your early birthday present, then. Come on, open it."

Tilting your head, you lift the top from it, the diamond tennis bracelet sparkling as soon as the light hits it. You gasped softly, taking the bracelet from its mold, watching in fascination as the diamonds danced in the light.

"Holy shit, Rafe," you mutter, inspecting the bracelet. "What the fuck? How much was it?"

The blond chuckled, taking the bracelet and unlocking the hook. He gestured for you to put your wrist out. "Real diamonds. None of that lab-grown bullshit. Don't worry, the cost didn't even dent my account."

You give him a look, allowing him to put the bracelet on your wrist and shake it as soon as it's on. "I told you before that I don't want expensive gifts from my friends. Just my parents."

"I'd like to think I'm more than one of your obnoxious friends," replies Rafe, causing you to give him a look. He snickered, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Last time, I swear."

"Highly doubt that." you turn your attention back to the bracelet, smirking at how it looked against your skin. "Thank you, though. It's really pretty."

Rafe stares at you, blue eyes watching you admire his present. "Yeah, beautiful."

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed from the whiskey and drinks prior. Heat pools in your stomach as your eyes meet his. Clearing your throat, you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Best present I got this year."

He smirks, laying his head down on a pillow, watching as you mirror his movement. "Yeah? Do I get to be your favorite until I piss you off?"

"Of course. I give it five minutes." you tease, grinning when Rafe smacks you with a pillow softly. You dodge his second hit, rolling closer to him, your arm pressed against his. "I was kidding! You'll be my favorite forever."

"That's more like it," Rafe says, a satisfied grin slapped across his face.

You groan softly, rolling onto your side to face the blond, eyes closing. The party was still going on downstairs, the loud thumping of the music heard two stories up. Your mind briefly flickered to what was happening with JJ and Kiara until Rafe's fingers ghosted over your side.

"I swear to god if you're gonna tickle me, Cameron," you grumble, eyes still closed, feeling his fingers roam around until they hit your stomach.

Rafe chuckles quietly, fingers stroking the ribcage tattoo you had gotten with Sarah. "When did you get this?"

"A week ago." you giggle as he runs his fingers up, touching your neck. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately slap his hand away, your brand new bracelet swinging slightly from the movement. "Rafe. You know how ticklish I am."

"Sorry," he smirks, tone unapologetic. His hand drifts to your hips, fingers playing with your cutoff shorts. "Wouldn't want a repeat of the Jenga incident."

Your nose scrunches at that, remembering the night you spent at the ER. "It was an accident."

"Still sticking to that story?"

"You moved your head."

"You threw a glass at my head." Rafe corrected, a smile tugging the corner of his lips up.

Scowling at him, you shake your head. "No, I threw it at the wall behind you. You moved your head at the last second and had to get five stitches."

"If you weren't so fucking competitive ..." Rafe teases, trailing off.

You bite your tongue, letting the subject go with great difficulty, but managing to not bite back. Closing your eyes again, you let your muscles alleviate. "Hm. Whatever."

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, the alcohol in your system and Rafe's soft bed allowing you to relax despite the loud music creeping through the walls. Despite feeling his eyes on you, you felt your body intense, the bed cradling you.

Rafe's hand drifts slowly up your hip, fingertips softly brushing against the sliver of bare stomach before slipping slightly under the hem of your top. Your eyes flutter up at the movement, watching as his thumb draws circles on your skin.

Goosebumps arise, and you suddenly realize how close he is, not even a foot away. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue peeking out to wetten his own. Your breath gets caught in your throat, his face somehow closer now.

Maybe it was the alcohol you've consumed trying to forget your own despair or an excuse to get your mind off JJ and Kiara, but you watched as Rafe brought his lips to yours, not pulling back when the taste of whiskey invades your mouth.

A hand caressing your cheek, Rafe rolled over on top of you, his elbows holding up his weight as he kissed you. His tongue sought entry to your mouth, biting your bottom lip. You gasped slightly at the feel, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, your lips parting slightly as Rafe's tongue sweeps in.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a string of soft kisses along your collarbone. Tilting your head back, you give him better access, running your hands through his hair, a soft content sigh escaping your lips.

He nips at your collarbones before sucking a mark into your skin, just right above your breast causing you to mewl at the touch, your hands drifting to his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging into his skin. You meet his eyes, his ocean blues now darkened like the water during a storm.

Something comes over your body, seeing Rafe in a new light. Suddenly needy and impatient, your hands tugged at the hem of Rafe's black polo, pleading silently for him to take it off. Taking your hint, he sits up, taking it off in one swift move, tossing it on the floor.

You'd never admit it, not even to Rafe–especially to Rafe, but you'd always loved his abs. The definition of the, so toned, tanned, and delectable. He may have been your friend, but you weren't blind to his looks, and definitely how his abs looked when he flexed them.

As your fingers traced the defined line down his stomach, Rafe's hands slid under your top until the tips of his fingers met the fabric of your bikini top. Needing more, a lot more, you sit up, ridding yourself of the offensive clothing. You heard Rafe groan, pushing you back onto the bed, eyes roaming the sight of the hot pink bikini top you still wore, the top so little it was hardly covering your nipples.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, reaching out and pulling off the top quickly, the thin string breaking at the force, your tits spilling out. You gasped, nipples hardening in the cold air. Rafe groaned at the sight, hands cupping your breasts, his breath hitting your nipples. "Fucking incredible."

You arched your back, moaning softly as his tongue wettens a nipple before taking it into his mouth. His teeth nibble it, sucking and teasing the hard bud while his fingers play with the other, rolling it between his fingers. Rafe pinches it gently, looking up at you with a smirk when you mewl.

Running your hands over Rafe's back, you feel the warmth and firmness of his muscles, wetness pooling at the thought of kissing every single inch of his torso. Before he could take the other nipple into his mouth, you pull his lips back to yours, wrapping an arm around his neck as a hand runs down his back, nails scratching his spine.

Rafe's hand moves down your sides, fingers playing with the button of your shorts. Pulling back from the kiss, he unbuttoned your shorts, slowly–and agonizingly–sliding them off. The cutoffs pile onto his shirt on the floor.

You know Rafe's experienced, so are you, but you swore he almost looked nervous as he stared down at you, his hands slightly shaky as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your matching pink thong. Those join the discarded clothing on his bedroom floor.

He looks like a man starved as his eyes focus on your bare cunt, hungry and almost animalistic as he leans closer to your glistening pussy, nose nearly touching the clit. "You're already so wet."

Instinctively, you spread your legs wider, hands grasping the sheets as his finger leisurely dips into your wet pussy, your lips parting slightly. His thumb touches your clit, rubbing it gently. You groan, hips bucking at the feel, needing more. "Fuck."

Rafe smirks, pushing a finger into your cunt, watching as your face contorted in pleasure. He adds a second before you could come down from the small high. "Look at you, so needy and desperate."

Before you could think of a retort, he leans down to replace his thumb with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust inside you, gaining speed. The sight of Rafe's head between your legs, his tongue flicking your clit was so erotic, the vision enough for you to get wetter. You throw your head back, your fingers tangling in Rafe's hair as you pull his head closer to your dripping pussy, a moan filling the room.

His fingers hit that spot inside you, causing a surprise whimper from your lips to escape. Rafe pauses, glancing up at you, pride in his eyes before he doubles his efforts, his fingers curling to reach that spot. He sucks your clit, nibbling it when you tug his hair.

"Rafe," you moan, arching your back. You push his head deeper between your thighs, pussy clenching around his fingers, so close to falling off. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"That's right, say my fucking name when you cum on my fingers," Rafe grunted, his fingers plunging in and out of your soaking wet cunt. He licks your clit, staring up as you come closer.

A dripping mess, you buck your hips up as Rafe continues his relentless actions on your pussy, moans of pleasure filling the room. His free hand moves up your torso, cupping your breast before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You lose it when he pinches it harshly, moaning loudly as you come undone, pussy clenching around his fingers, throbbing. You whimper out his name, your hand gripping his hair. "Fuck!"

Rafe laps it all up, replacing his fingers with his tongue, hands holding your legs open as you attempt to close them, your clit sensitive. He runs his tongue along your pussy, lapping up your juices, groaning at the taste, unable to pull himself away.

He licks his lips, staring possessively at your cunt before looking up at you with a proud smile. "You taste so fucking good."

He then proves it to you, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You taste yourself on him as you kiss him back, lips moving against each other. As you come down from the high, you roll him over, straddling his torso. You move your lips to his neck, marking it until you kiss down his chest. Meeting his eyes, you run your tongue down his abs, kissing every individual one.

You move to straddle his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants, much opposite of his agonizingly slow approach. Rafe lifts his hips, helping you take off his jeans, sitting up to pull you in for another kiss. Giggling, you push him back onto the bed, your fingers sliding underneath the band of his boxers.

You bite your lip as you take out his cock, your hand wrapping around it immediately. The size of it made your mouth water, licking your lips in anticipation as you stroked it slowly causing Rafe to groan. With an approving hum, you lick the tip, meeting Rafe's hungry gaze.

Smirking, you run your tongue along the length of it, pulling back when Rafe bucks his hips up, glaring at you for teasing him. Chuckling, you decide to end the shortlived torture, taking his cock into your mouth, your warm, wet lips wrapping around his cock.

He groans, fingers pulling at your hair, guiding your movements, and urging you to take more of him. The sight of your soft, pink lips wrapped around his cock was something he'd never forget. "That's it, baby. Suck my dick like a good slut."

You felt your pussy clench at his words, growing wetter as you suck him off, eagerly bobbing your head up and down his dick. Pre-cum drips onto your tongue and you savor the taste, moaning around his cock, Rafe grunting at the feel of the vibrations.

Not wanting him to cum down your throat, you stop, slapping his cock on your tongue, smiling innocently when he narrows his eyes at you. He looked so hot staring down at you, chest heaving as he panted lightly, his knuckles white as he tried to restrain himself. His cock bobbed up as if begging for attention.

Shifting, you move up his body until your pussy is inches from Rafe's cock. You tap your clit with his cock, whimpering quietly, your clit still sensitive. Rafe's hands drift to your hips and you smack them away, giving him a smile as you rub your cunt against his dick, wanting to tease him just a little bit more.

He grits out your name, hands by his sides as he clenches them into a fist. "Stop teasing.”

"Or what?" you arch a brow, smirking as you let the head of his cock slip into your wet cunt. Temporarily speechless, Rafe lets out a guttural groan as you sink down unhurriedly, watching as your pussy wraps around his cock until he bottoms out. The size of his cock stretches you out, your walls fluttering around him as you rock slowly. "Holy shit."

"Jesus Christ." Rafe growls, his hands cupping your tits as you begin to bounce on his dick. He squeezes them, watching as your pussy swallows his cock like a vice. "So tight. Made just for me."

You moan at his words, leaning back and placing your hands on his thigh, giving him a view men would kill for. You ride his cock, throwing your head back at the feel of his cock stretching you out. Rafe reaches down, slapping your ass as you ride him, and you mewl at the gentle pain. "Rafe."

Rafe's thumb touches your clit, rubbing it as he watches you ride his cock, his lips parted slightly like he is seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. His eyes dart between his cock sliding in and out of your cunt and your face contorts with pleasure, moaning every time you slide down his cock.

"Fucking gorgeous." Rafe whispers, thrusting up into you, his pupils dilated when you whimper loudly. He sits up, his hands gripping your waist, moving his face in front of your bouncing tits, taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. "So much better than I imagined, baby."

You place your hands on his shoulders, pussy clenching around his cock. You moan into his ear, kissing his neck as he thrusts up into you, your legs trembling as you draw closer to cumming. "Rafe, I'm gonna cum."

The words cause him to double his efforts, gripping your waist so tight it would leave bruises, his cock filling you up as he fucks you fast. His lips drag across your neck, leaving a mark as his cock brushes against your cervix. "Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like a fucking slut."

You cry out as you come, your cunt tightening around his cock. You bite Rafe's shoulder, muffling your ungodly loud moan. "Fuck, fuck!”

He pulls you back in for a kiss, spilling his seed into your awaiting pussy. Rafe slows to a stop, groaning against your lips, his cock nuzzled deep inside you. Rolling you on your back, he doesn't separate from you, keeping his dick warm as he kisses you languidly. Taking a breath, he breaks the kiss, staring down at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "You alright, sweetheart?"

Tired and content, you return his smile, pussy throbbing around his softening cock. You nod, eyes heavy. "Yeah, you?"

Rafe chuckles quietly. "Yeah, me too."

As your eyes drift close, you feel Rafe press a kiss to your forehead.

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[konoha-forbidden-scrolls]

Let's have some headcanons about the Akatsuki and their bath/shower routine! Hidan's hair alone probably takes a while.

Ah, the daily lives of the Akatsuki. I've stuck to the main Akatsuki from the original series. I had waaay too much fun writing these~

Characters: Nagato, Konan, Itachi Uchiha, Kisame Hoshigaki, Deidara, Sasori, Kakuzu, Hidan, Obito "Tobi" Uchiha, Zetsu (Combined)

Contents: splish splash, bitch, blood (Hidan), wound care

Nagato

Due to the black receiver rods planted in his back and his emaciated form, Nagato's mobility is very limited. I don't think he cares much about the appearance of his true body, since no one but Konan ever sees it.

That being said, it's important for him to stay clean to prevent infections or irritations that might risk his already fragile health.

Whether scar tissue has formed around the receiver rods or if they remain open wounds is unknown, but keeping that area clean and dry would be a high priority.

While his main body is immobile, he can use the Six Paths bodies to care for himself, so he doesn't need to rely on others if he doesn't want to. (Konan would certainly help him if he needed or wanted her to.)

It's probably going to be sponge baths, or potentially a special hot spring pool where he can sit with his legs in the water and let the heat and steam give him some relief.

Konan

The Angel of Amegakure is no hop-in-the-shower scrub down kind of girl. Just look at her. That is a woman that is toned, exfoliated, and moisturised.

She's spending an hour luxuriating in a bubble bath, her head tilted back, candles flickering around her while rain patters atmospherically against the window. The steam carries the scents of the essential oils she sprinkled in the water—jasmine and sandalwood, rose and ylang ylang, depending on her mood.

Her toiletries are top tier. What's the point in being the de facto leader of Amegakure if you can't get your hands on the good stuff? Seriously, her toiletries make Deidara's mouth water.

She likes those little artisanal soaps, especially the ones carved to look like flowers.

Itachi Uchiha

Itachi will take whatever he can get, but his personal preference would be a Japanese-style bath, similar to the ones he would have taken when he lived at home with his family

The kind of set-up where he washes his body in a shower or with the old bucket and ladle, before soaking in a hot bath or hot spring. Basically like an onsen.

I don't think he'd like showers as much—water getting in his eyes and obscuring his vision—especially if he's already having problems with his eyesight.

He wouldn't go for strong-scented toiletries, both as a personal preference and because a good shinobi obfuscates all of an enemy's senses, including smell.

Still, if he can have them, he likes light herbal or tea scents.

Kisame Hoshigaki

Good news! Your shark man can tolerate fresh water as well as saltwater, so he can go take a bath or shower when he starts to get that hot tuna smell after a few days on the road. (He claims it comes from Samehada. It does not.)

Thankfully, by choice Kisame's pretty clean so the worst you'll usually get is a slight briny odour after he's been sweating.

His skin drinks up moisturiser like it's going out of style, so he goes through big tubs of the stuff.

Another dude who doesn't like heavily-scented products. He says it's so he doesn't pollute the waterways, but it's actually because perfumed toiletries irritate his gills.

Deidara

Check out Mr. Herbal Essences over here. Deidara is a shower guy, but don't let that fool you into thinking he's low maintenance. His long-ass hair takes ages to wash. Deidara takes his sweet time massaging shampoo into his scalp. Sometimes he washes it twice.

Then comes the conditioner—Detonator Barbie uses practically an entire bottle of it every time he has to do his hair, making sure every strand is liberally coated.

Followed by a hair mask.

Then he spends ages detangling it with a comb, spritzing it with anti-frizz solution, drying and straightening it.

He always clogs the plughole but claims it's not him.

Yes, he has to brush the teeth on his other mouths and floss the clay out from between his molars.

Sasori

Given that Sasori doesn't actually possess a flesh and blood body anymore, he doesn't need an actual bat, but he does do regular maintenance on his chakra puppets.

Think rag and wood polish, rather than soap and water.

He sands down any rough edges, touches up his paint, and launders his clothes if they've gotten dusty from the road.

Yeah, it's basically that scene from Toy Story 2 when Woody gets fixed up.

Kakuzu

Old man Kakuzu likes baths, and he likes them even more at the various Akatsuki compounds where he's not the one footing the bill for the water or the heating.

Continuing the miserly theme, he won't spend more than a couple ryou on his toiletries. He has the most basic-ass shower gel—the cheap kind that smells like a menthol bitch-slap—and a two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.

He looks at what Deidara and Konan spend on their personal care products with disdain.

Although he won't buy luxuries for it, Kakuzu gets pissy if his bathtime routine is interrupted, namely by Hidan getting in there early to spite him or leaving a bloody, hair-gelled mess all over the place.

Since his strings are keeping him young, he doesn't waste money on skincare.

Hidan

Hidan's got no problem being covered in blood and gore, but after a while it starts to get sticky and inconvenient, so he has to wash it off. Some of his Jashinist rituals also call for him to be purified beforehand.

He might not seem like the bath or onsen type but he is from Yugakure, aka the Village Hidden in Hot Water. Boy is from Bathland.

He's not polite from Itachi, so he'll throw himself in all dirty and covered in blood and viscera, and fuck anyone else who has to get in the water after him.

His hair does take a long time. He takes a whole handful of product and spends ages slicking and combing it back to make sure it's perfect.

Gotta look good for Jashin.

Obito "Tobi" Uchiha

He's possibly the most normal when it comes to bathing. Obito has a preference for showers over baths, because they're quick and efficient and he needs the extra time to run all his little schemes.

He absolutely "borrows" toiletries from Deidara, so he smells pretty and his hair is in great condition.

Deidara starts sniffing suspiciously whenever he's around "Tobi".

"Why the fuck do you smell like my cedarwood body wash, you masked asshole!?"

Zetsu (Combined)

I feel like he just mists himself, like a plant in a greenhouse. He just stands there and lets himself be spritzed.

Zetsu doesn't sweatzu.

[bullet-prooflove]

I'm still in my Tim Gutterson mood. Loved the little hand heart! How about reprieve - jealousy - secret with him now?

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fallmoreinloveeveryday @elenavampire21 @floralfloyd @lamaudite

Companion piece to:

Lucky - Tim's assignment doesn't go to plan.

Tim has issues with jealousy. He firmly acknowledges that as he sits in a camping chair around a burn barrel with his other Ranger buddies, watching you at the make shift bar they’ve concocted out of pallets.

You’re doing nothing more than sipping a beer but Tim thinks you might just be the most beautiful woman on this earth.

Unfortunately so does every other motherfucker on this base. The ratio of women to men on American bases in Afghanistan is 15%, so every son of a bitch is taking his shot tonight, everyone except Tim.

“So…” You say later on when he finds himself in your orbit. He’d taken a stroll away from the group because he couldn’t stomach the chatter about your assets. They’re all great guys, grace under fire and all that bullshit but being out here does something to a man, it twists you just a little. “What’s the secret?”

“What secret?” He asks you as he takes a sip from his beer.

“You’re the only one out here tonight who hasn’t tried to shoot his shot.” You tell him as you tilt your head back to the sky, your hair falls across your shoulders and it takes everything in Tim not to run his hands through it.

“I thought I’d give you a reprieve from the fuck heads.” Tim tells you as he stares up at the stars. You don’t get shit like this back home, not with all that light pollution. “I figure a girl like you in a place like this, it’s gotta be relentless.”

“Yea.” You say with a mirthless chuckle. “It really fucking is.”

He can hear the tiredness in your voice, the exhaustion of it all. He can’t imagine how lonely it must be, knowing the men who are supposed to be watching your back, are watching your ass instead.

“You wanna spend the night looking at the stars and having a conversation instead?” He asks you inclining his head towards you and the look on your face…

He’s never felt the way he does when he watches your eyes light up like that.

“Yea.” You say, the edges of your mouth turning up into a smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

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