#resecure

[nerdpoe]

The Watchtower has a perfectly normal and totally ordinary Mechanic. Except that it doesn't, Danny just hasn't found the right time to tell them that yet.

Danny, as Phantom, decided to live in the Watchtower without asking. It was in space, it was away from the GIW and his parents, and it was cool. Really it was the best Real Estate he could want. It would be difficult, but Danny was full confident he could do it.

Except it was easy?

Like, really easy.

Day one, he had dropped his Phantom Form and was in the cafeteria when it was empty, and the Head of Engineering tugged him aside and scolded him for like twenty minutes on leaving without the proper uniform or badge.

So he got a uniform and badge.

Day two he met the Big Three as they walked down the hallway, and Batman handed him a busted up helmet with the instruction "Fix this". So he did.

And on it went, on and on, until Danny was paying rent by being a Mechanic on the Watchtower.

This really doesn't change anything for anyone, until the Watchtower is hacked by an enemy and all listed personnel are gathered up.

Al listed personnel.

Danny isn't actually listed.

Right as the villain is video conferencing his monologue to the heroes trying to get in, Danny walks into the room, gently nudges the man aside, and starts pulling out wires from the console.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhh, I don't get paid enough to deal with these stupid glitches. The airlocks are down again, fuck me, right?"

"What-I shut those down! Cease this!"

"Sorry, what? Ope, doesn't matter anymore. Already fixed it. Shields are operating normally, zetas are online, and air locks are active-sorry 'bout that."

With the villain still spluttering and in shock, Danny nudges past him and his lackeys again and out of the room.

[otiskeene]

Resecurity Introduces Digital Identity Protection Solution To Safeguard Consumers In The Philippines

Resecurity, a leading cybersecurity solutions provider worldwide, has introduced its Identity Protection solution specifically for the Filipino market. This solution is fully compliant with the Data Privacy Act and is created to shield Filipinos from online dangers like leaked national IDs, accounts, passwords, and data. The main goal of this solution is to offer continuous protection against digital risks such as Dark Web activity, Account Takeover, and exposure of Personal Identifiable Information.

The Philippines, with its vast population of over 115.6 million and its crucial role in the Indo-Pacific region, is currently undergoing rapid digitalization. However, this digital transformation has also made individuals and organizations vulnerable to cybersecurity threats from cybercriminals and nation-state actors. Resecurity's solution is available through Direct-to-Consumer and Business-to-Consumer models, allowing local MSSPs and IT Service Providers to safeguard their users.

Ben Ouano, the COO of Resecurity (APAC), stressed the significance of cybersecurity advancements in the Philippines. He highlighted the necessity of adapting to these advancements to defend against evolving threats. Resecurity's objective is to equip individuals and businesses with the necessary tools to protect their digital identities and shield against cyber threats.

Cyber threats like malware, ransomware, phishing attacks, and data breaches pose a major risk in the Philippines. These incidents can result in financial losses, data theft, business disruptions, and economic harm. Resecurity's Identity Protection services are designed to offer proactive defense against these cyber threats.

Read More - https://www.techdogs.com/tech-news/business-wire/resecurity-introduces-digital-identity-protection-solution-to-safeguard-consumers-in-the-philippines

[shapoopy178]

Yeah, my car died on me this morning bc the engine is shot through no fault of my own and it’s gonna cost me $3k+ to get a new* block installed

but on the plus side I get to go see Barbie tonight so I’ve got that going for me

[dubiouslexism]

softblocked my twitter mutuals feeling good

[affectionatemud]

who the hell does Duolingo on Christmas

[quercus-queer]

I love corporate merging, I love when companies buy other companies it’s so fun and sexy hahaha… soo anyway… 99¢ store taking over Dollar Tree when 👁🫦👁

[imaginedisish]

Sparks (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLLOOOO everyone!!! Here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This is my first fic in a few months so please forgive me. I am exhausted, and I’ve been writing this throughout my day (may or may not have been writing and editing in class). Thus, this may be incredibly sloppy. I am so sorry. HOWEVER, this is incredibly SMUTTY so minors SCRAM! I hope you guys enjoy. The song I reference is “Sparks” by Coldplay and it very much inspired this....but so did Cardigan by Taylor Swift. Anyway...enough of me talking...ENJOY!

Summary: Din looking out for you turns into so much more than either of you could have ever imagined (featuring *there’s only one bed*). 

Warnings: Major pining, Jedi!reader, SMUT so 18+, cursing, PIV, fingering/oral (f!receiving) no mentions of birth control so WRAP it before you TAP IT FOLKS, references to canon typical violence and injuries, idiots to lovers, crest still exists bc im a lazy writer... I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,221

The stars flash by the Crest in a streaky, messy blur. The light reflects off the beskar clad man next to you. The conversation had died down a half an hour ago. Now you and Din sat in warm, comfortable silence. You should really head to your bunk, but you don’t want to. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open at this point. You feel like a child on the back of a speeder, confidently telling their parents they aren’t tired, that they won’t fall asleep on the way home this time. Every second you get with Din counts, even if it means falling asleep in the cockpit and waking up with a sore back. The uncomfortable chair was worth the reward of just being next to him.

But you’d never let him know that. You couldn’t.

It probably went against his code. Or even worse, there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same. The thought alone makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You quickly shake it off and glance over at Din. His visor is set on the deep space in front of you.

“You’re tired,” He says, his modulated voice breaking the silence.

“No, I most certainly am not,” You jokingly insist, shifting slightly underneath the blanket he had gotten for you just a few minutes ago.

“Sure you aren’t, cyar’ika,” He chuckles softly. He knows he’s right, and you do too. But you don’t want to fall asleep, not now. Not when he’s next to you, teasing you, leading you on. It doesn’t matter if this ends in heartbreak. You just want to be with him, to hear his voice, to feel him near you.

You smirk at him, and you hope he’s smirking back underneath that helmet of his. “I’m fine, really,” You insist, your smirk turning into an appreciative smile. He nods and turns back towards the stars ahead.

You quietly wish he was still looking at you.

And then, he breaks the silence again. “Your back is gonna hurt tomorrow if you fall asleep out here,” He says softly, intently. Your heart drums away rapidly in your chest. “Don’t need you getting more hurt than you already do because of me…” He trails off. There’s a sense of sadness in his voice. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about. The blaster shot, just a week ago. Your hand finds its way underneath your shirt, rubbing softly at the wrap Din had resecured over the injury earlier this morning while you were still on Tatooine.

“Din,” You whisper, inching to the edge of your chair to be closer to him. “I’m here because I chose to be, because I want to be,” You pause for a second to stop yourself from giving away more than you mean to. “And I’d be getting into trouble no matter what, with or without you,” You joke. It was true. Maybe it wouldn’t be bounty hunting, and it certainly wouldn’t be Jedi stuff like your parents had tried to force you to learn throughout your childhood, but it would’ve been something.

If you were to be completely honest, one thing you’re fully convinced of is that whatever it would be, it would always be with Din, in every universe, every timeline. Something called you to him, clung you to him. The stars, the force, something. Whatever it was, it kept you here.

He turns his helmet towards you and stares in silence for a few seconds. Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest at the attention. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. He takes a hand off the controls and reaches towards you, resting his hand on your own.

“Thank you,” He mutters through his vocoder. He’s rarely ever this open, this vulnerable with you.

“You don’t have to thank me for being honest,” You whisper, practically unintelligibly. Your nerves are getting the best of you. One more move from Din and you’ll melt into a puddle of words you’ll never be able to take back.

He squeezes your hand softly and pulls away. Somehow, your hand has never felt colder than it does in this very moment.

After a few minutes, his voice fills the cockpit once again. “Just don’t fall asleep out here, ‘kay? Take the bunk if you’re tired. You need rest.” Despite the modulator there’s a warmth in his voice. You could swear there’s even a hint of care, possibly even love…

No, You think to yourself. Maybe you should head to the bunk. Maybe you do need space from Din. What are you supposed to do when you can’t hold these stupid feelings back anymore? What are you supposed to do when the inevitable happens, when he delivers that final crushing blow, ‘I don’t feel that way about you, I’m sorry.’ You stare off into the distance. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You were doomed from the start. So foolish, so fucking foolish, You think.

“You okay?” Din’s words yank you from your thoughts. He’s staring at you again, and you’re more than positive that there’s a look of concern hidden beneath that visor.

All you can muster is a quiet yes and a subtle nod. Din nods back, but you know he’s not quite buying it. He looks towards the control panel, quickly flicking some lever on. Your eyes are too heavy to pay attention to what he’s actually doing. “I know I’m not as…open as you,” He pauses for a second, debating what to say next, “But if something’s wrong, I’m here. You can talk to me.”

“I know,” You whisper back. And Maker, did you want to.

The cockpit finally succumbs to comfortable silence once again. Despite your endlessly wandering mind, it was even harder to stay awake now. Thinking about all the possibilities and paths was far too overwhelming. It took up more energy than you had. So, just as Din expected, you drift off to sleep, your exhaustion finally taking hold.

He looks over at you, curled up against the co-pilot’s chair, laying on your side, facing him. You had fallen asleep; he knew you would. You always did. Din smirks, you never did listen. He loved that about you, your stubbornness, your independence. He knows you can’t stay like that though, sleeping on that rigid chair, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. You barely sleep enough as it is.

He stands up from the pilot’s chair and walks over towards you, carefully taking your legs under one arm and your upper body under the other. He scoops you up and walks out of the cockpit and towards the one and only bunk on the Crest.

You can feel the cold beskar against your side, your skin slightly exposed as your shirt rides up your stomach. You absent-mindedly nestle into Din’s chest, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Din?” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. Part of you thinks this isn’t real, that you’re dreaming, and you’ll wake up in the co-pilot’s chair alone.

He shushes you softly, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, cyare.” His voice is calmer than usual, more relaxed. “You fell asleep in the cockpit.” He approaches the bunk, loosening his hold on you ever-so-slightly as he carefully places you down onto the bed. But you don’t let go of him, you want to keep him close.

Once he’s sure you’re secure in the bunk, his hands slide out from under your body and up to where your arms rest around his neck. He doesn’t let go. It isn’t until you feel his fingers brushing against your bare arms that you realize his gloves are off.

Maybe now is the time to test the waters. You can feel the word vomit coming up, burning your metaphorical and emotional esophagus. And Maker, do you wish he’d just lay down with you, sleep next to you. Maybe the risk is worth the reward.

“Would you stay with me?” The words finally leave your lips. You’re shocked at your ability to ask a question like that. You had never shared the bunk before. One of you always slept in the cockpit. “You should rest too,” You say, trying to cover up your true intentions.

Din shifts a bit in his spot, but he still doesn’t let go of you. You can see the gears turning in his head. “Okay,” He decides. You practically gasp with shock, and you embarrassingly do your best to hide it.

He takes his armor off, but not his helmet, like he always does. You’ll never get over how he looks without his chest plate, his broad shoulders, his tan skin. You move further into the bunk, giving Din space to climb in next to you. He shuts the door to the bunk, and only once the tiny space has been encased in darkness does he remove his helmet.

You’re up against one another, face to face, no space in between – not even an inch. You’d never been with him when he didn’t have his helmet on. Your stomach does a backflip at the thought that he feels safe taking it off with you, even if it’s in the darkness.

He hesitantly drags his hand up to your waist, resting it softly just above your hip. “Is this okay, cyare?” You had never heard his voice unmodulated. It’s clearer, unadulterated. Honey, golden, but still somehow rough. You want to replay every word that he says.

You hum a yes into the darkness. You nervously bring your hand up to his neck, waiting briefly for him to protest – but he doesn’t. “What’s that mean, cyare?” You ask, struggling to pronounce the word.

He takes a few seconds before answering your question. You can’t help but think that you’ve pressed too far. “Don’t worry about it,” He says finally. Yep, pressed too far, you think to yourself.

You quickly remove your hand from his neck, immediately realizing that you’ve crossed a million boundaries all within a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry I just-,”

He grabs your hand before you can get too far away from him. “It means beloved,” He says curtly. “And cyar’ika,” He pauses, and you can hear him swallow harshly. “It means sweetheart.”

You try not to overthink his confessions, or translations rather. They could just be meaningless pet names that have absolutely nothing to do with how he feels for you. Why get riled up only to be brought back down?

But then again, there’s no avoiding this forever, and there’s no time like the present.

“Din,” You whisper. You’re not sure you can finish your sentence. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. “I…” You trail off, noticing how much the bunk smells like him, musk and spice and something else you can’t quite place.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He asks.

You laugh anxiously to yourself. “You didn’t tell me what that one means,” You say, trying to stall, to buy time.

“I’ll tell you once you tell me what’s on your mind,” He says coolly, as if none of this is affecting him. He knows what he’s doing.

You take a deep breath. “I think about you Din,” You mumble nervously. “All the time, and I think I-,”

He cuts you off, stealing the words from you, as if he could read your mind. “I love you.”

His lips come crashing down onto yours in the darkness. The kiss isn’t rushed or hurried, but there’s a hunger to it, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him – if that’s even possible.

You’re almost upset when he comes up for air. It isn’t enough, you need more. You want to be forged to him somehow, irreversibly, and irrevocably sealed to one another.

“I love you,” You say to him, breathing heavily, your heart beating out of your chest.

“I know,” He says back, his lips meeting yours once again.

His hand slips under your shirt, his thumbs dragging against your skin. Heat rushes to your core and you can’t help but let out a soft moan – after all, you and Din are far beyond touch starved.

He pushes himself up and over you so that you’re held down underneath him. Your hands explore his entire body, his waist, his stomach, his abs, until you finally reach his face. You find his lips with the tips of your fingers. Din peppers them with kisses as you glide upwards towards his nose, then the bags under his eyes, his forehead. You wished you could see his face, but for now this would do. This was more than enough. This was more than you could have ever asked for.

“Wanted this for so long, cyare,” Din says between breaths. He burrows his head into your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. “Wanted you this whole time,” He says, his lips pressed against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move further up your body, pushing under your bra. “Please Din,” You mumble. “Need you.” And that’s all the permission he needs. He pushes your shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere in the mess of bunk, along with your bra.

He rolls his thumb over one nipple before moving to the other. “You’re so fucking perfect, so beautiful,” He sighs, pinching your nipple slightly before trailing down towards the waist band of your shorts. He tugs on the fabric and dips his hand inside. He feels the outside of your panties, already soaked through. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet for me mesh’la.”

You squirm underneath him. You need him to touch you, to do something, anything. “Din,” You mutter. “I-,”

Before you can finish your sentence, he’s yanking your shorts and your panties down your legs. He climbs back over you, his hand trailing up your inner thigh before diving into your folds and settling on your clit.

“Wanna make you come, pretty girl,” He whispers against your ear, his fingers making quick work of rubbing your clit. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing. His words alone could send you over the edge.

You shudder under his touch as he quickens his pace. “Feels s’good,” You moan into his mouth as his lips come down onto yours.

“Doing so good for me,” Din murmurs. “Being such a good girl.” You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as Din’s fingers press harder against your clit, circling faster. You throw your head back and moan his name.

Then, out of nowhere, Din’s hand leaves your heat. You need more, you need to feel him. “Please don’t stop,” You beg shamelessly. The covers shuffle as he moves, and you can feel the weight of the mattress sink a bit.

He doesn’t give you much time to grieve the loss of his fingers, his tongue dragging up the inside of your thigh. “Oh fuck,” You whimper as Din’s mouth meets your heat. You can feel his beard softly scratching against your legs. He brings his fingers towards your folds, pushing inside. “S-shit,” You stutter as Din pumps two fingers in and out of you.

His tongue alternates between swirling around your core and sucking roughly against your clit. “You taste so good, so fucking good,” Din’s voice vibrates against you, making it harder to hold on. “Can’t wait to be inside of you.” His fingers pick up their merciless pace, pumping in and out.

“Din, I-I can’t…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. You’re on the brink, you can’t hold back any longer.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” Din coos. He laps at your folds in between sentences. “Let go for me mesh’la.”

You feel your walls tightening around his fingers as waves of searing hot pleasure wash over you. “Din!” You cry out, his fingers still pushing in and out of your folds, his mouth still sucking softly against you. He slows his pace as you come down from your high before finally pulling away from you.

He pushes himself back on top of you, his forehead coming up to rest against yours. You reach down, your fingertips brushing against his erection.

“Need you inside of me, Din, please,” You beg, jerking him off gently through his pants. Din groans audibly, and you stop for a moment to hook your fingers under his waistband. Din helps you, shoving them and his boxers down his legs and casting them off into the mess that you two had made.

He grabs his cock in his hand, jerking it off a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. You can feel the head of his length as he pushes through your folds and sinks all the way inside you. You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as he fills you up. He moans your name, and it hangs in the air, reverberates against the walls of the bunk.

“So fucking tight for me,” He groans, pulling himself out of you to pump back in and bottom out. He’s so deep inside of you, hitting the right spot with each thrust. “You feel so good.” You clench around his length at the sound of his voice.

He reaches down, the tips of his fingers once again finding their way to your clit. Din immediately begins rubbing rough circles, just as he did before. He finds his pace, rutting in and out of you rhythmically. It isn’t long until you feel yourself growing closer to your peak.

“Din,” You sigh, barely able to get a word out. “I’m so close.”

“M-me too, pretty girl,” Din stutters, somehow finding a way to pump into you harder and faster. “F-fuck, taking me so well.” He presses harder into your clit, circling around your core. You bring your hands up to his back, digging your nails down into his skin. It was too much. You could feel yourself getting closer with each thrust. You can feel your walls tightening uncontrollably around him. “That’s it, good girl. Come for me.” And you can’t help but give in.

“D-Din!” You practically scream his name, coming undone around him. You throw your head back, seeing sparks and stars as you hit your peak. Din is close behind, his pace growing sloppier as he comes inside you. He slowly thrusts in and out before pulling out.

He takes a deep breath, his forehead coming down to rest on yours.

“You’re so perfect,” He whispers, his breath ghosting your nose. “Shouldn’t have waited so long to do that…” He trails off, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I love you Din,” You say, still out of breath. “I always have. I would’ve waited longer if I had to.”

He kisses you again, even gentler than last time. “I always knew you’d be the death of me,” He chuckles. You can feel his laugh vibrate through his face, through his whole body. No beskar, no hiding. “And I promise, I will always love you, cyar’ika…

“Always.”

Yeah, I saw sparks

Yeah, I saw sparks

And I saw sparks

Yeah, I saw sparks

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 8)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): So about that getting chapter out quicker thing...I blame tech week

Series masterlist can be found here.

warnings: a little bit of cursing, mild anxiety, airports

wc: ~1500

~~

Soon apparently meant thirty minutes. The plane’s landing gear hit the tarmac hard. The few shrieks were outweighed by the many sighs of relief, you own included. Jon yanked the window open, squinting. The view of the tarmac went from blurred to clear in the morning sunlight as the plane slowed. 

“Tt, finally. Though Philadelphia would not have been my first choice as a welcome back to the East Coast.” Damian pulled his gaze from the window, bending down to resecure the closures on his backpack. Jon’s eyes stayed glued to the window. 

“Are all plane landings this rough?”

“Yeah, usually,” you replied. “But it means we’re on the ground, so I don’t mind.” 

“Welcome to Philadelphia, ladies and gentlemen. The local time is 9:32 am and the temperature is 47 degrees Fahrenheit. Apologizes for the early landing but glad we all made it safe and sound. Remember to stop at the help desk if you do need to get your luggage routed to baggage claim or if you would like to take a voucher and find another method of transportation to Gotham. Thank you all for your patience and cooperation and thank you for flying with us.”

“If I ever see the inside of a plane again, it will be too soon,” Jon whined. You turned to see him drop his head on Damian’s shoulder.

“Flying commercial is both unpleasant and inefficient, I concur.” Damian squinted at the standstill line forming at the front of the plane. You stayed carefully silent. The two future trips you had in your calendar burned in the back of your mind. 

“But hey,” Jon sat up. “At least we met you!”

You chuckled, maneuvering up and out of your seat into the line of departing passengers before swinging your backpack over your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” A bittersweet wave of emotion gripped your heart. “It would have sucked so much more without you guys.”  

The deplaning of the flight was the worst you’d ever been a part of. Between panic and desire to leave, everyone was sloppy and on a short fuse. You nearly got whacked in the head with a carry-on bag trying to stand up. You did get elbowed trying to move forwards in the line.   

There was no Damian and Jon right behind you this time when you turned around after finally making your way into the airport. The spike of disappointment that drove through your chest caught you off guard. I knew this was going to happen, you reminded yourself. It didn’t make the ache in your chest go away.

“Hi,” you greeted the help desk employee. “I’d like to get my bag routed to baggage claim.” The required materials—your boarding pass, baggage tag receipt, and driver’s license—weren’t hard to produce. In just a few minutes, you were given a new receipt and an instruction to check screens for the baggage claim. The guaranteed “voucher” was to be later emailed, added to your airline account. You stepped off to the side, shoving the new receipt in your pocket. They’re tall, you figured. You’d see them if they were still there. Multiple scans of the crowd later, you didn’t see Damian’s waves nor Jon’s signature glasses. The spike of disappointment morphed into a vice around your chest even as you shoved it down. Your phone, now off airplane mode, buzzed in your pocket. You spun on your heel and headed towards baggage claim. The train you needed to take back home wasn’t going to book itself. 

Despite your unfamiliarity with the airport, it was simple enough to follow the signs towards the baggage claim area. You stopped at a restroom on your way there to avoid having to maneuver through one with a full suitcase in tow. The screen was empty of flights from your airline when you arrived, and your phone was blank of any email updates. Instead, you rerouted to the Amtrak app. The train with the lowest fare that also gave you enough buffer time to get your bags and catch the local train from the airport to the station was 2 hours away. The number of your bank balance flashed in your mind. 

“Thirty-eight for the train and eight to get to the airport,” you muttered aloud. “Yes I am so willing to spend fifty bucks to finally just be home.” The inevitable expense of a taxi or rideshare back to your home poked at the back of your mind. You ignored it. The voucher would cover the difference later on and that would have to be enough. 

A notification banner popped up on the top of your phone screen. The text notification was from the airline, declaring baggage claim three. Sure enough, the screen on the wall said the same thing. Baggage claim number three was farther down. You moved quickly, shoving through other passengers to stand in closer to it. Standing nearby was someone you had a murky recollection of from the boarding line.

All that was left now was to wait. 

~

Damian bit back a growl as a large man shoved him back into Jon and forced his way farther up the line. 

“That’s not getting him anywhere,” Jon muttered. He was half-hoping his powers would spontaneously come back and help them out. “What’s the point?” Damian shook his head.

“If people made sense, Jon, we’d be out of work.” Jon rolled his eyes. 

“You’re hilarious.” 

Damian chuckled lowly, pulling his carry-on bag from the overhead storage, then Jon’s. 

“Damn it.” 

A jolt of panic sliced through Jon. His head snapped towards Damian, eyes wide. Jon winced, massaging the back of his neck. That hurt.

“What?” 

“We lost them.” He nodded towards the front of the plane. You were gone. 

“Shit.”

As much as he wanted to get off the plane, Jon wouldn’t have pushed through the other passengers even with powers at full strength. Especially with powers at full strength. He followed the movement of the crowd as they exited the gate, coming to a stop just beside a stand selling Philadelphia hoodies and t-shirts. Jon eyed them with a not small amount of disdain. He’d pass. 

“So we’re not taking another plane-” Damian began. 

“Oh fuck no,” Jon interrupted. 

“Why do you think I started with ‘we’re not’?” 

“Right,” Jon could feel his cheeks heating. “I knew that.” 

“Hnn. So could it be worthwhile to call someone now? It’s past 9:30, your family should be up. Of mine, Alfred at the very least will be awake at this hour.”

“What’s the other option?”

“We take another method of public transport to Gotham and have Alfred pick us up there.” 

Jon thought about it for a moment. Then he thought of you. His hearing was past the point of awful fluctuation, but not good enough to hear across a crowded airport. And he didn’t know your heartbeat. It was a weird thought. Jon thought about it again. That was a weird thought too. But it had been a long time since he’d gotten to know someone without being able to hear their heartbeat. 

“Do we know what they’re doing? I don’t think we even talked about it. But I don’t want to leave them alone after all this.” He paused. “That’s not weird, right?” 

Damian shook his head. 

“No, I agree. Which means your family is out. And waiting for Alfred to drive all the way here and then asking them to get into a car with a complete stranger for two hours is also less than ideal.”

“So public transport it is.” Jon concluded. “Wait, how do we even know they aren’t taking another plane?” Damian smirked. 

“They don’t call us the world's greatest detectives for nothing.”

Jon narrowed his eyes at Damian. “You guessed.” 

“I formed a hunch based on multiple deductions,” Damian retorted, arms crossed.

“So you guessed.” 

“Deduction and guesswork are two different things.” 

“Uh huh,” Jon smiled and started heading to the help desk. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The help desk employee guaranteed Damian that the vouchers would be emailed and attached to his airline account. Based on the look on his face, Damian couldn’t care less about them. Jon wanted to hurry up and find you too. But he also didn’t want to be booked into the nearest flight to Gotham. Until he got his powers back in full, Jon wasn’t doing any flying whatsoever, much less flying that involved any sort of metal contraptions. 

“Which baggage claim is for this flight?” Damian asked before he stepped away. The airline employee checked her screen. 

“Three, but I don’t believe bags have started arriving yet.” 

Damian nodded and headed quickly towards the signs leading towards the baggage claim area. 

“Thanks!” Jon threw out as he followed, sneakers squealing against the linoleum floor as he hurried to catch up. 

[hazzyking]

Hiiiii so I posted this before I finished it- whoops! This is for @onyxopossum some fluff for you! I hope you enjoy! I'm not the best at fluff so I apologize in advance 😭

As the World Falls Down

You sat at the dinner table with black boots resting up on the white table cloth while picking dirt out from under your nails, your foot bobbed to some tune you had stuck in your head. You heard someone calling. Based on the voice, it seemed like Buggy in the distance yelling "HEEEEEEEYYYYY" You were torn from your thoughts and looked around. "In the bag idiot!!" Buggy yelled. Your face went from bashful to offended as you took him out of the bag, listening to him pant loudly. "Oh jeez, thanks. Hey, I got some sand in my eye. Would you mind OWWWWWW!!" Buggy shouted as you stabbed him in the eye with your finger.

"That's for calling me idiot!" You grumbled. "Where the hell did Arlong go?" You asked, looking around the disastrous restaurant.

"He left with my friend." The kid in a straw hat muttered walking past her.

"W-wait, kid," you spoke as you gripped his wrist. His body kept moving toward his boat as his arm stretched out. "Excuse me, kid!!" You shouted. You looked over at Buggy, trying to remember the kids name. "Bugs, you gonna help me or not?" You asked, looking at the head on the table.

"I'd love to sweetheart but my eyes aren't working like they should be- I wonder why" Buggy said, sarcastically as he squinted his eye.

"Hey, strawhat!" You yelled, a mysterious wind blowing past the kid, lifting his hat off his head and landing it in your hand, making it look like you caught the hat.

"My hat! Thanks! Hey, don't I know you?" The kid asked as he resecured the hat to his head.

"Unfortunately, I'm (Y/N), and you remember my... uh -" You stuttered, motioning towards Buggy, unsure what to call him.

"Captain," Buggy said, rolling his eyes. You felt a pinge of hurt in your chest as you nodded in false agreement.

"Yeah... captain"

"Binky!"

"Buggy," you, and Buggy muttered in unison. "I was wondering if I might hitch a ride to Arlong Park with ya. The Fishmen left me without a boat. And Buggy is left without his body. I can help you get there if you want. " You smiled a friendly and approachable smile. Buggy just watched you in this kind conversation. Guilt festering within his gut. 'She's never this kind around us,' Buggy thought to himself as his normally excitable mood changed to a deep gloom. 'Maybe I am bad for her'

"Yeah, sure, come on!" Luffy smiled, you nodded, picking up Buggy. And the bag he was in just in case.

"C'mon, little guy," you cooed, scratching the back of his ear.

"Little!? Who are you calling little!?" Buggy argued, you responded by ceasing your actions and rolling your eyes.

_________________________________________

On the boat, you sat in the kitchen with the newest crew member while Buggy directed Usopp on where to go. You rested your head on your hand as you looked out at the vast ocean.

"You new to this?" Sanji asked while he sliced up vegetables.

"No, I've been at see since birth" you muttered still watching the waves rock against the ship.

"Your dad a marine?" Sanji asked.

"Pirate" you simply replied.

"Are you hungry, Miss (Y/N)?" Sanji asked now, offering you a plate that had vegetables and meat and rice almost pooling off it. the food smelled delicious. You smiled brightly and began to eat the delicious meal.

"Get your hands off me! Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go!!!" Buggy yelled as Zoro burst into the kitchen holding just the head. You pinched her nose looking over at him.

"Set him down," you muttered, watching as Zoro tossed Buggy's head into your chest "oof" you let out, winded by the weight of his head.

"Ahh, such a soft landing~" Buggy smiled, nuzzling into your breasts. You growled in frustration and plopped him back on the table. He looked at you with a sad expression 'I fucked up. How the hell did I fuck this up' Buggy thought to himself as the fear of abandonment set in.

"She's with that Clown. And you fed her!?" Zoro groaned.

"Just shut up Moss head." Sanji sighed. "Is it good?" Sanji asked, turning his attention back to you

"Delicious!" You say with a mouth full of food. Buggy sits at the table watching you eat. His mind flooded with thoughts. 'She's gonna leave me... I know it'

_________________________________________

That night, the crew gave you and Buggy your own cabin to share, you prepped yourself for bed and slid under the covers, placing Buggy's head on the pillow next to yours. "Night." You simply said before turning your back to him.

"W-wait (Y/N)" Buggy muttered, wishing he had his body back so he could pull you close.

"Yeah?" You said turning to face him.

"Do I bring out the worst in you?" Buggy asked, his face full of fear.

"What? Why?" You asked, taken aback by his kine of questioning.

"Becsuse... well... seeing how you act around these guys... it's just... different" Buggy muttered.

"Bugg- that's because your crew is constantly trying to take shit from me. These guys have an auctual respect for one and other. And I know Luffy is our enemy but-"

"But you like him?" Buggy asked sounding more depressed.

"He's nice" you responded looking at him. "I will never leave you. I am here permanently" you smiled.

"So... My nose isn't turning you away?" Buggy asked. You pouted and kissed his nose softly.

"Your nose is my favorite thing about you" you said quietly. "Aside from your booming personality"

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

Another request

“Your gravity privileges have been revoked”

This is what I say to my cat when ever he gets put in air jail for biting me

sometimes peppercorn goes to air jail for being too wiggly (also bc it clears the bottom of his tail so he can resecure himself)

Askbox is currently closed as I work my way through these older asks

[atsadi-shenanigans]

The crew, after being told to save Nere because the gnomes are trapped with him and will die.

Astarion: Gnomes? Ew. Who cares about them?

Tav: Me, motherfucker.

Astarion now fumbling to resecure his best food source down here: And that’s why it’s imperative we get them out of there!

Shadowheart: Wow. It took a lot from you to say that.

Astarion wipes a tear: It did. I’m glad someone noticed.

[sweetracha]

First Sleep Over with Stray Kids

Sleepy Bunny

Sugar Content: Sugary Sweet (Fluff), Sour Sweet (Slight Angst)

Allergy Warnings: Mentions of fighting, hints to a panic attack.

You shivered as the cool breeze settled on your skin. The sun had started to set and soon you’d be in darkness. The only thing illuminating your surroundings was Changbin's picture on your phone. Who else were you meant to call? Yet again another night with your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend as of now, ended in an argument. This time funny enough it was over the man you were calling to your resecure. Your boyfriend was jealous of your relationship with Bin. You two knew everything about each other. He knew you had to sleep with a light on because you were afraid of the dark. You understood that getting in between him and food was never a good idea. Every emotion, every feeling, every moment, every sight, smell, sound, touch, and taste linked back to Changbin…maybe your boyfriend, ex, was right to be jealous.

“Bunny…bun..Y/N!” Yelling broke you out of your thoughts.

“I'm here sorry Im here” He couldn’t tell if you sniffled because of tears or the cold. Either way, your ex was a dead man.

“I am almost there, are you standing under the same streetlight?” That's when it hit you. Same street light, the same one that your Binnie picked you up from so many times before. The routine is always the same. He picks you up, you calm him down so he doesn't get an assault charge against him, you two rant over fast food, then he takes you home and tucks you in. 

“You must be freezing, get over here” Soon a large hoodie was thrown over you. When did it start to rain? “Where is that moth–” “Not tonight Binnie please…not tonight” 

He ended his routine early, tonight was different, you were different, and this was different. 

“Where to tonight cinnamon bun?” A nickname he only called you when he needed to see you smile.

“Home” is all you said. 

Upon entering your apartment you walked straight to the bedroom. Landing face first into your clean linen sheets. You almost didn’t hear Bin walk in. 

“Come on bunny, you know the drill, pajamas first then we get you all comfy” With a huff you agreed. But when Changbin pulled out your favorite silk nightgown something felt wrong. You needed comfort tonight, comfort that the cold material wouldn’t bring you. You needed warmth, to feel small, to feel wrapped up and safe. You needed his sweatshirt, but the poor thing got soaked in the rain. Little did you know, your Binnie remembers everything. He saw the way you snuggled into the hood as you shivered in the car. The sound of you taking a deep breath of his spiced whisky cologne alerted him. However, the face of fear fell into one of deep love when he saw the way you smiled ever so softly and cuddled harder. Sleep and peace washed over your sad and sorrowful features. That was the bunny he knew. So as you took a shower he threw the hoodie in along with your favorite plush blanket. Little white bunnies were surrounded by a sea of gray-blue fluff, a gift from Changbin, a subtle reminder you'll always be his little bun.

“Looking for this sleepy head?” He pulled out the hoodie from behind him, still kept warm from the dryer. If you were any more awake you'd pounce but tonight you just put your arms up, like a child asking to be held. Without another word but a sweet smile on his face, he helped you into it. Bin couldn’t miss the opportunity to put the hood up and kiss your head, his sweet little bunny.

He pulled back your sheets and helped you under. They felt so cold against your skin. All of a sudden you were taken back. A cold house, yellings, screaming, crying, so much crying, and then rain. Cold stinging rain. 

“Binnie–” you said so softly, almost hoping he didn't hear, but he did. “Yes, bun?” 

“Stay” He began to grab the little overnight stash he kept in your room when he crashed on your couch. “With me…stay here with me tonight, please” His heart broke. How could he say no, as if he would ever say no? However, it took too long for him to get into bed and you began to worry. You jolted up about to apologize for everything when you saw him. 

“Silly bun, I'm just turning on the nightlight, lay back down love.” With that, he crawled in next to you and instantly pulled you in like a stuffed rabbit. He was determined to warm your freezing skin. With a smile to his chest and one last deep breath of his cologne, you drifted off.

“Home” you muttered to yourself, but he knew. He always knew.

Sleep Over Series Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, I.N

[switchbladedreamz]

Sharing is Caring, Harrington

Pairing: Steddie x reader smut

Summary: Steve is jealous you're tutoring Eddie for summer college courses, deep down does he feel more for the metalhead?

Requested? Nah I'm on a writing high from TTP

Warnings: 🔞light smut, established relationship with Steve and Reader, college au, slapping (once), mommy and daddy kink, blowjob, gay, straight, use of pet names and dom/sub themes.

I don't remember when I started this but heyy I just finished finals so I'll have some time to crank out some fic this summer🥳

Minors dni

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I just don't get why you have to tutor him is all I'm sayin, babe" "and I don't get why you have a problem with it, didn't you save his life last summer or something? Look it's the summer before his freshman year of college and he needs help what's the big deal?" I had signed on to be a tutor at the local community college's summer classes. Lo and behold Eddie Munson. Munson was among a crowd of mixed in students from other towns and sometimes a state over, taking summer classes Hawkins Community College; go Tigers!

"Babe if you're afraid of the sexual tension between Eddie and I and us being the only hot goth and only hot metalhead in a 50 mile radius then I guess you better come with and make sure we don't fuck on a pile of Iron Maiden cassettes." I bite back, the snark leaving my voice when Steve's pupils went black. I smirked. "You little horndog! You're just upset because you want to watch us fuck, don't you!?" I accuse. The silence pregnant with tension between us. "Get in the fucking car, Harrington". I sigh exasperated, if only he came to me with this instead of bitching about it for a week then finally letting the truth out. "are you mad at me?" Steve asked, his lanky posture suddenly small in the passenger seat. Taken aback by Steve's more submissive side showing, I'm sure to be extra soft. "No baby, not at all. Look at me." I smile as his eyes reach mine. "I just wish that you would've come to me with your thoughts in lieu of complaining for a week straight. But no need to dwell on it now, it's fixed and over with and we're headed to the Munson's". A goofy smile overtook the sad smile that was on his face.

Tears for Fears played softly as we pulled into the gravel driveway connected to all the other driveways. I parked my hearse next to Munson's van, the neighbors that were outside on the nice sunny day were glaring daggers. Conformists, what're you gonna do. Walking up the steps, Metallica could be heard and it was drownibg out the knocks. Or so I thought, a minute later and smoke is spilling through the door as it's ripped open. A shirtless, dripping Eddie ushers us inside. It's then we see only a towel is around his waist "Welcome, kind of caught me at an awkeard moment here. I don't usually let people see me without my hair done" he jokes. He clears his throat as i alone laugh. Eddie turns to leave- "wait!" Steve interrupts. His face is beet red, he's been thinking about it. "We-uhm. Well. Oh. Huh. We, (Y/n/n) and I, we were. We- ya see we had-" "Good God spit it out Harrington it's freezing in here" Eddie complains, his nipples hard. I lick my lips. His eyes flit between us, wordlessly he spins around and motions with two fingers in a "come hither" fashion to beckon us after him. Steve gulps then looks to me for permission, poor thing is nervous. I lace our fingers together and take the lead as usual.

"sit at the top of the bed Harrington." Eddie offers to him, gesturing. Resecuring his towel, his leans over his music collection and picks an album. Then his rolling tray, his grinder, lunchbox he keeps his weed in, and finally his papers. Sitting on his bed, Steve watched his skilled fingers as he rolls two joints. "How'd you learn to do that anyway?" Steve asked. "My friend Rick, Refer Rick. Taught me everything I know, of course I have picked stuff up from JV before too." "Junior Varsity?" Steve asks, eyebrows knotted in confusion. "juvie" I whisper to him. Eddie just chuckles, "damn all the blood rush from your head to your dick Harrington? I didn't take you for an airhead" the metalhead teases. "Edds play nice or we'll leave." I warn, no serious inflection in my tone. The boys know by now when to listen.

"lick it for me" Eddie's outstretched arm in front of me, offering the soon-to-be joint to Steve's lips sideways. "w-what? Yeah sure". Unsure of his actions, he grabs the two ends, pink tongue coming between his soft lips to activate the glue. "Good boy" Eddie whispers.

Steve watched intently when Eddie smokes. You'd think he'd never been high before. But I know. He's watching his lips, his fingers, when his tongue comes to lick his lips before taking a hit. Steve's watching Eddie's hand on my thigh too. Halfway through the joint, "so like...can I ask?" Eddie speaks, intentionally vague. "Hehehe ask what?" Steve giggles. "What's the deal between you two?". Shock settled over Steve's features, as if he never expected the question to be asked. "Well she's my girlfriend, I love her". "okay, hey that's great. No offense meant, really. I'm just...confused".

"Well what Steve and I have is special, what we do somehow brings us closer together. We don't have an open relationship, we just sleep with mutually agreed upon people.".

Eddie takes in the information, let's it swirl ariund then settle. "Can I ask who else you've slept with together?" He voice strained as he holds smoke in, passing the joint to me. "Billy Hargrove, Chief Hopper, Robyn, well that was just me but Steve watched, you last summer at camp Steve watched from the treeline.". Steve shifts on the bed at the mention of past lovers, he's been oddly silent. "I knew I heard something. Why me again?" "Truth be told, I think Steve might have a crush on you Edds" I giggle like a school girl. "all week he's been complaining about me tutoring you for the summer but the truth is he wanted to have some fun.". Silence still from the third party, he's clutching to one of Eddie's pillows for dear life.

"Steve?" My hand rubs his arm, he lurches forward and I couldn't have been paid a million dollars to try to predict what happens next.

Steve kisses Eddie. I sit still. Shock, weed, and adrenaline running through me. The kiss is erotic in a way. Eddie pulls away, the pair panting for breath, "wow. okay..that just happened.". "I'm sorry" Steve rushes out to apologize. Before more anxiety can spill from him Eddie kisses him again, softer and less rushed this time. "What's your mommy dom think about all this?" Eddie whispers in Steve's ear. The latter whimpers and looks to me. I nod, giving him my permission. Eddie's hand on my thigh moves up and past the hem of my shorts, directly toward the button and zipper he undoes hastily. I get off the bed and strip completely, the pair of men following suite.

Eddie and Steve are inseparable, tongue and teeth clashing, hands a flying mess to grab onto the other. As if they're the only ones left on this planet and if they don't hold on they'll never find each other again. "Ed's please" Steve whimpers quietly as the boy's tongue is licking up his neck. Biting. Sucking. A sharp slap sounds through the small room and Eddie's head falls back, his bottom lip caught between his pearly whites. "You are so gonna pay for that Harrington. Get on your knees". Steve's eyes are wide, excitement and a tinge of fear for the unknown outcome. Steve slides off the bed, I throw a pillow to him for his knees.

Eddie pushes his hands through Steve's hair and guides him down. "You ever sucked cock before baby boy?" Ed chides condescendingly. I smirk, knowing. It's almost as if all the color drains from Eddie's face as Steve takes him all the way down his throat, nostrils being tickled by short brown curls. "Fuuuuuck". Steve swirls his tongue around Eddie's head, sucking as he pulls off with a pop and goes back down. "Oooh, oh fuck! Yes, baby" Eddie encourages Steve as one of his hands starts to massage Eddie's sack. Eddie pulls Steve's head off, panting. "Don't-" a strangled sigh leaves him "I don't want to finish just yet" Steve smiles proudly.

I lay at the head of the bed on my side, a watching position. Steve now lays beside me, an everbright wet smile gleaming on his wet face. The smile gets impossibly brighter and wider as Eddie straddles Steve's thighs. Eddie wraps his fingers around the other boy's wrists and pins them beside his head, his face mere inches from the other's. "You're going to listen to what mommy and daddy tell you to do aren't you baby boy?" Steve nods. "Good. You're given permission to speak freely. Now be a good boy and ask mommy to sit on your face." Steve's head lolls to the side, our eyes locking. "Actually, for right now I want to watch the two of you".

Eddie shrugs and rolls with it. I watch as their lips meet again. I trail my fingertips over my submissive's thigh lightly, the tickling sensation causing goosebumps to rise on the hairy flesh. Up, up, up, they wander. A small shudder escapes Stevie's lips as my fingertips graze along the biggest vein on his cock.

A devilish grin on Eddie's face as he walks to me on his knees. A choked moan comes from Steve as my hand gently strokes him. Within the moment Eddie's tongue is inside my throat with his left hand on the outside of my throat, applying small pressure. "Where's that naughty little bitch I remember?" Eddie's tone is full of arrogance and challenge. I smirk and slap him. His hand at my throat pushes my head down to the pillows while the other smooths the burning red handprint. Pulling me up halfway by my throat he kisses. "There she is.."

[okay-j-hannah]

All Bruised Up

Moon Knight : Fic

Steven Grant x Reader

Word Count: 1343

Warnings: throwing some punches and accidentally getting hurt 🙃

Request: “I have a request 😗 I love your writing so much! Can you please write Steven Grant having a girlfriend who is a good fighter and is trying to teach him so he can defend himself when she's not around?” Anon

A/N: You teach Steven a few things about self defense

The gym was small and outfitted with a fighting ring and heavy hanging sandbags. (Y/N) swung between the ropes, landing on the ground and picking at the tape binding her hands and wrists.

She loved it, punching it out with red knuckles and a sweat stained top. The strained muscles and the clear head – fighting was her therapy.

And now she stood with hands on her hips, chewing the inside of her cheek.

There standing next to the ring was Steven with a terribly sheepish look on his face. There was a ruddy purple bruise growing beneath one eye and a split in his lip.

He waved, “Hey.”

“Again?” She shook her head, “You can’t tell me it was just a little skirmish this time.”

“Some lads were having a go,” he said quietly, “They were going to ruin an afterlife exhibit – nearly used a shabti of Seti to bash a head in.”

(Y/N) went to him, kissing his unbruised cheek and running a few fingers across his lip. “And you didn’t think to call security?”

He shrugged, picking at his fingers, “I thought I could handle it.” He hissed as she prodded his split lip.

She sighed, giving him an endearing look, “I suppose you did save some silly old statue.”

“A shabti’s function happens to be very important to one’s journey in…”

“Steven,” she said, “I ought to teach you a thing or two about defending yourself.” She resecured the tape around her hands, “So I can stop fretting whenever I’m not with you.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, hiding the irony. They hadn’t reached the point in their relationship where she knew about Marc and Jake yet. If she knew two first class fighters were also a part of his body then she wouldn’t be so worried.

He would’ve come out of the museum brawl with worse injuries if Marc hadn’t fronted mid swing.

“I don’t know,” he said, self-conscious, “I’m not one to throw punches.” Except when armored with Khonshu’s snazzy white suit.

“I’ll just give you a few pointers,” (Y/N) smiled, gesturing for him to follow her into the ring, “Come on.”

Steven looked around uncomfortably, making sure they were alone in the gym before struggling through the ropes. He flopped onto the pad and scrambled to his feet, “Right then. What’s the first step?”

He held up his fists, flailing them around as he bounced on his toes.

(Y/N) smiled, approaching him, “First off, make sure you hold your thumb here or you’re going to break it.” She watched his eyes widen, “And keep your fists closer to your face, that way you can protect it from an incoming punch.”

He nodded, “Right, yeah – thanks.” He held his fists eyelevel and crouched in a fighter position.

“Good, now take a swing.”

“Beg your pardon?” he straightened out, lowering his hands.

“Take a swing at me,” she got in her own fighter position, “And don’t lower your fists, it leaves you vulnerable.”

Steven gave a side smile, saving his split lip, “I’m not going to hit you.”

“I know you won’t,” she circled him, “I’ll stop you before you do.”

He stumbled, “Let’s use one of those sandbags ins- WOAH!” He ducked as (Y/N) swung her fist at his head. “What are you doing?”

“Nice reflexes,” she said, “Now get defensive and look for an opportunity to strike.”

“(Y/N), I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” she said easily, “Watch my body language.”

He reluctantly lifted his fists, monitoring her arms, “I’m not going to swing.”

She aimed for his shoulder to avoid hurting his face more, and this time she met her mark. “You’re distracted.”

He hissed, grabbing his arm, “Ow! What did you hit me for?”

“You didn’t dodge like before,” she circled him, “Come on, try to hit me.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Steven…”

He shook his head, “Sorry, love.”

She sighed, “Alright, let me show you a combo move.” She stood beside him, demonstrating the three step move, “Right, left, duck.”

“Right, left, duck,” he repeated under his breath, mirroring her actions. They swung right then left then ducked.

“Good, now faster – take a short breath with each swing.”

They practiced the maneuver a few times until Steven had a pleased smile on his face, “I think I’m doing it.”

“Yeah you are,” she replied proudly, “Now I’ll act as the attacker.” She lifted her tapped and padded hands, “Right, left, duck.”

Steven went slow, matching his fist to the palm of her hand, ducking when she threw her arm above his head. “Again,” she said.

The more they practiced the faster the movements became until the blows to (Y/N)’s palm stung, and Steven could feel her arm clip the top of his head with the speed she threw her attack.

“Okay, let’s move to right, left, dodge. I’m going to aim for your face, and you’ll have to move to the side to miss it.”

Steven nodded, rolling up his sleeves. It was getting stifling hot. “Take your best shot, darling.”

She smiled, breathing heavy and practicing punches with him. He was getting ambitious, perhaps a bit overconfident in how he managed to follow every combo she threw at him. If he was being honest he knew it was muscle memory from Khonshu’s suit.

His curls were falling into his line of vision, bouncing along with his steps, “I’ve got ya right where I want ya.”

(Y/N) clenched her jaw, feeling inclined to knock him down. And with a hungry smile she aimed an unpracticed fist to his stomach. He blocked it with his forearm with a look of mingled shock.

(Y/N) was surprised too, looking between his wrist and his eyes before delivering another attack. Steven threw his arm up to block the next jab, grabbing her other wrist with his hand.

“What are you doing?”

She gawked, “How are you doing that?” She pulled from his grasp, “We haven’t practiced that.”

“Good reflexes, like you said,” he said with a shrug. But he checked internally to see if someone was trying to take control of his limbs.

(Y/N) gave a disbelieving laugh, ready to test the theory with another incoming attack. It was a short lived flurry of limbs, fists aimed for chest, head, and stomach. Steven dodged each of them, only ever redirecting her hands as she pushed him back. The look on his face was hilarious, all wide eyes and spluttered noises.

That was until he finally made an attack in return. His fist made contact with her jaw.

“Oh my god,” he cried, throwing his hands over his mouth.

(Y/N) took a step back, rubbing at the side of her jaw, “Nice punch,” she said rather excitedly.

“God forgive me,” he said, running to her side, “Are you alright?” His hands were latched onto her face, turning it this way and that, “I didn’t mean to do that, honest.”

“I believe you,” she said, a laugh about to touch her lips, “It happens – I wanted you to take a swing – I was asking for it.”

He grimaced, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m telling you it’s alright,” she put her arms around his shoulders, “I’m rather impressed. I had no idea you had a talent.”

He kept his eyes on the spot he hit, “It was just survival instincts. I got lucky.”

“It must’ve been those instincts that saved you at the museum,” she smiled but saw the frown on his face, his eyes trained on her jawline. “Hey,” she said, “You didn’t hurt me, Steven.”

He had that sheepish look on his face again, “Maybe I’ll just never leave your side and then you can protect me instead of teaching me all this silly stuff.”

“Self defense isn’t silly stuff.”

“Please?”

She smiled, “Alright. Let’s go home hotshot.” She started to peel off the tape around her hands, “We’ll look like quite the pair, all bruised up.”

“I do believe this calls for tea, ice, and cuddles.”

~~~

Tag List:

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[pamprinninja]

How it started, versus how it's going...

I grew up in the UK, 30 minutes from Games Workshop's Nottingham headquarters; and my childhood heavily featured their games, miniatures, and routine trips to the local Games Workshop store.

During this time, I developed a particular affection for the work of Jes Goodwin. Initially an artist and sculptor, Jes' work was strongly geometric in nature; and displayed an unusually high degree of consistency (a particularly noteworthy achievement during a period where miniatures were sculpted by hand with ad-hoc tools).

For reference - one of Jes' early sketches of a Space Marine in Mk. VI armor; as featured in the guide that accompanied the very first Space Marine paint set:

I actually had the pleasure of meeting Jes in person at Games Day '94; and one of my treasured possessions is the souvenir program, which he kindly autographed:

During my teenage years, I came to possess a handful of Chaos Champions sculpted by Jes. As was so often the case in those early years, the miniatures had been designed as dual use; combining the sort of medieval aesthetics that would warrant inclusion in the Warhammer Fantasy Battle setting, but also the occasional technological greeble that would justify use in Warhammer: 40,000.

As I generally kept to the latter system, I set about cutting up and remodeling these miniatures, with the aim of making the science-fiction elements more explicit. And I was very happy with the end results, too!... Which makes it all the more unfortunate that these miniatures were lost when I relocated to the US.

Two decades later, and I have taken it upon myself to recreate these miniatures (albeit with the full advantage of the skills I have developed in the interim). The first mini on the chopping block is 021919 from the 1989 Citadel Catalog (frequently referred to by its most obvious physical characteristic, "Nurgle Chaos Champion With Fly Mutation"):

(It feels vaguely sacrilegious, taking a razor saw to what is now technically an antique; but I very much subscribe to the DIY mentality that was so prevalent during the initial Rogue Trader days, and - given that the model originates for the same time period - keeping the old traditions alive seems only appropriate.)

In my original conversion, I removed the haft and blade of the axe; and positioned an old Space Ork plasma cannon over the now unobscured shoulder. I also replaced the sandaled foot and exposed fly-mutated leg with their armored equivalents from a Space Marine Devastator.

This time I around, I opted to angle the right arm, to add a greater sense of movement; and completely reposition the left arm, as if to calling out a target:

(In doing so, I created a great many headaches for myself: the right hand snapped off at the wrist, and had to be repaired. Cutting the left arm free necessitated cutting through the hand; and the pins I inserted into the remains of the palm broke free, requiring JB Weld to resecure.

I cannot underscore the frustration inherent to these two experiences; at the same time, I'm a great believer in the idea that growth as an artist demands taking risks - up to and including potentially ruining one's art.)

The original version of the conversion also featured an extended barrel (fabricated from the Lord Fuegan's firepike, and a handful of random Genestealer claws). However, I wanted to replace this with something a little more appropriate for a follower of the Lord Of Pestilence; which ended up being the better part of a Plague Spewer:

In terms of next steps: I intend to strap a canister of goo-based ammunition to his left side; and continue to add new detailing to hide the various cuts and joins.

[ephemeral--dreams]

Late night yandere thoughts - Kaveh, Zhongli, Yelan

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Kaveh

I worry severely for his ability to be a proper yandere tbh

By which I mean he struggles so much with not just letting you go the moment you plead with him to. He's really too emotional for this - rather, he folds too easily, and is almost more likely to be manipulated than to manipulate you.

It's that very same quality that has the power to guilt trip you into staying, though. It almost feels more like taking pity on him rather than being kidnapped, with how clingy he gets when you tell him to stop this nonsense…

(Of course, he is not entirely oblivious to this, either. He knows what he is doing is wrong, and that he wouldn't have the heart to harm you if you tried to fight your way to freedom. However guilty he feels about playing on your emotions to get you to stay, though, isn't it for the best? You're safe with him. He will not lose another person he loves, so this is better for you both. Anyway, if you'd loved him before, can't you love him while stuck here, too?)

He'll take good care of you, he promises!! Pretend he hasn't put security measures on every exit and everything will seem normal.

Don't expect Alhaitham to help. It's too much energy to get involved in Kaveh's affairs. He'll leave you alone as long as you leave him alone.

Kaveh honey can you even afford to keep a person. Where are you getting the money to do that from.

Zhongli

Dragon. Possessive. You see where this goes.

He doesn't follow any sort of human morals. He has been above such things for centuries. Even living among them, his polite demeanor is partially an act. He would like to blend in with society, and does not feel any particular bloodlust. But he feels no remorse for being swayed into taking you.

Likely manipulated you into signing a contract that effectively placed your life into his hands. Who knows what it was… All that matters is that he has you now, and by Liyue laws, you agreed to it. No matter if you try to fight after the fact.

Will keep you chained up if he must. It will be much easier on you if you cooperate, however. Zhongli would like you to be able to move around your shared home freely. Keeping you bound to a single place is much like locking up a beautiful treasure in a box - a useless endeavor. Pretty things should be enjoyed, so do behave yourself.

Also not above training you to behave. Don't test him.

He might even let you have little outings once he knows you won't bolt from his side the moment the door opens. Wouldn't you like a romantic dinner out? <3

It's very simple with him. Be good and get spoiled, or don't, and face consequences. Either way, you will be his until the end of your life.

Yelan

Another possessive one. In a different way, though. She won't kidnap you, but she will always be watching. Best get used to the prickling of eyes on you.

That, and her sudden appearances. The unexpected way she appears behind you while you wander the local market, leaning over your shoulder to point out which produce to buy (someone was looking at you for a bit too long, and she had to make certain her claim was stated), or when she climbed in through your window late in the evening (she was overly concerned about you being targeted because of her. Better to stay the night just in case she needed to protect you. She dealt with dangerous people each day, after all).

There is that paranoia - that you may get hurt due to your connection with her. Or in some way entirely unconnected. The mere thought that you could be taken from her is enough to make her arms tighten around you, for her to spend time resecuring the house after you're sleeping, to guard over you even more.

You're kept in the dark about the trail of bodies that follows you. Anyone she deems a threat, anyone who bothers you or irritates you. Gone, just like that. You will have peace and safety, without disturbance from any criminal scum. And then you will come back to her happily without an inkling of the blood spilled for your sake.

Wife that loves you enough to kill people for you what more could you want.