#these things for a reason of my own undoing.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Crushes Aren't Just for Kids

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!JL!reader (Justice League Unlimited!Bruce)

Summary: When all adults are banished from earth, you join Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern in a unique fight to save the world. Along the way, some hidden feelings are revealed.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for Justice League Unlimited 1x3 "Kid's Stuff", fluff, mention of beheading, canon-level violence and action

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

A/N: I can't tell you how many times I've watched this show because Kevin Conroy's Batman in the DCAU tv shows is unmatched (and the kids who did the voice acting in this episode did phenomenally). I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

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You are in a unique position for several reasons. Being one of the only human members of the Justice League, you find yourself pushing yourself to be the best you can and ensuring that you can keep up with your superpowered teammates. Plus, you are one of the only people who knew Bruce Wayne before you knew Batman, and no matter how much he denies it, you knew after one look that the man under the cowl was none other than your favorite billionaire. When you first arrived on the Watchtower with your fellow vigilante, you wondered if any of the superheroes (especially those who had unique mind powers) could tell that you wanted to be more than fellow crime fighters with Batman. If they did, no one said anything, so your secret crush has remained secret as it grows stronger.

“Bats,” you warn as you duck away from Cheetah’s claws.

Bruce flips away from Deadshot’s line of fire before rushing up beside him. He punches under his jaw, and you watch as Deadshot lifts Bruce off the ground. Bruce throws a batarang, and you slide away from them as Deadshot falls to the floor.

“Guess that’s a wrap,” Green Lantern says. At Bruce’s look, he adds, “Sorry. Been hanging out with Flash too much.”

“I don’t see how that’s a bad thing,” you tease.

You look away from John and see three police officers entering the vault. A pink wave follows them inside, and your eyes widen when the officers disappear. Bruce pulls you to his side as John creates a forcefield with his ring, but it fails nearly as quickly as it appears.

When you open your eyes on a floating rock, you’re still tucked against Bruce’s side. You step back quickly and look around. Dozens of rocks surround you and each holds numerous people; adults only, you notice.

“It was judgment day,” Copper exclaims, “and- and we got sent to the bad place. The bad place!”

“Where else were you expecting to go?” you ask sarcastically.

“Snap out of it, Copper!” Cheetah demands as she slaps him.

“Yeah, calm down,” John calls. “We’re probably just in another dimension.”

“I don’t see any children,” Bruce says.

“You would be the one to notice,” you murmur. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add when he directs his bat glare at you.

“That’s because a child is responsible,” a woman wearing a mask interjects as she hovers above you.

“Morgaine Le Fay,” Bruce greets, though he’s prepared to fight rather than exchange niceties and introductions.

“Great, magic,” you mutter as you fall in line between Bruce and Diana.

“I mean you no harm,” Morgaine assures. “My son Mordred has wrought this treachery. Banishing all adults to this shadow realm.”

“Do you think Flash is here?” you whisper to John.

“50/50,” he answers.

“After I spent millennia feeding him, bathing him, preparing him to be a king,” Morgaine continues. “Where did I go wrong?”

“You’re a sorceress. Can’t you just undo his spell?” Diana asks.

“No. He’s got the amulet of first magic. He’s too powerful. But if we all work together…”

“You want us to defeat your own son?” Bruce clarifies.

“So don’t trust me. Let him rule the world and all your children. Here we will stay. Forever.”

“But what can we do? We’re stuck here, aren’t we?” Diana says.

“Please don’t say-“ you begin.

“Not exactly,” Morgaine answers.

“That,” you finish as your shoulders slump.

“The spell only banishes adults.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you and John say together.

“It’s the only way,” Morgaine says.

“We have to do it,” Clark announces.

John exhales deeply, and you step back to be at Bruce’s side again. Magic has never been your preferred battle, and as Morgaine directs her spell at you and everything turns green, you clutch Bruce’s cape in your hand.

When you arrive in Mordred’s amusement park-turned-kingdom, you’re ready to leave. Being turned into a kid again wasn’t exactly on your superhero bingo card, and as a human, you don’t bring much to the fight anyway.

“I hope this is temporary,” Bruce complains.

You look over at him and feel butterflies in your stomach. Despite de-aging, you still have a crush on Bruce, but it hits harder and faster. You tear your eyes away from him and try to calm your racing heart. Each moment you live as a kid, you’ll start acting more like one.

“You sound weird,” Clark says. “Whoa. So do I.”

Diana looks between Clark and John before straightening her shoulders. She towers over them and smiles. “I kind of like this.”

“Why are you squinting?” you ask John.

Bruce, Clark, and Diana look over after you ask, and you drop your eyes to avoid looking at Bruce again.

“I wore glasses as a kid. Guess I need ‘em again,” John answers.

A pair of oversized green glasses appear on his face, and he jumps in surprise. They’re nothing like what adult John would create, and you stifle a laugh at the sight of them.

“I didn’t even try to make these!” he exclaims.

Clark laughs as Bruce says, “I hope not.”

You pat John’s back as he focuses on making nicer glasses. Once he’s ready and Clark compliments his new look, Diana reminds you that you’re supposed to be looking for Mordred.

“Bet the little punk’s in there,” Bruce says.

He points to the castle looming in the distance and begins running. You run behind him and watch as Diana, Clark, and John fly past you.

“It’s not a race,” Bruce grumbles.

He speeds up, but you keep your pace and make it to the castle all the same. Despite the earlier teasing about John’s glasses, none of you have mentioned any differences between the kid and adult versions of one another. You’re thankful, though, because reliving your childhood is not your favorite pastime. When you enter the castle, you stay behind Bruce as he stands beside Diana.

“The Justice Babies!” Mordred calls before laughing.

“What are you laughing at, precious?” Bruce asks.

“Precious?” you repeat.

“You,” Mordred answers. “Mother sent you, didn’t she?”

“Maybe she wanted a chance to have a normal kid,” you taunt.

“She shouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s job,” Mordred tells Bruce.

He grabs the amulet, and you watch as a young boy’s toys come to life. They grow until they’re giant, and you stumble backward before running for cover. When Clark flies into one of them and is knocked to the floor, you begin questioning if it was truly a good idea to become kids to fight a boy with powerful magic.

“Bruce, batarang,” you request.

He hands you one before running toward Mordred. You wait for one of the toys to run toward you before sliding between its legs.

“I’ll make a laser cannon. No, a missile launcher,” John says above you. “Oh! Oh, I know.”

“Just pick something!” you and Bruce yell together.

You dig the batarang into the back of the toy’s leg and roll to the side as it collapses to the ground before disappearing. Bruce and John take one out, while Clark disables the other with his laser vision.

When you hear Bruce grunting and see him dangling from his cape in the grip of the last toy, you gasp and run toward him. Diana beats you there and catches him.

“You okay, tough guy?” she asks.

“Let go. I’m fine,” Bruce demands as he struggles to get out of her hold.

His shoulders drop and his cape surrounds him as he sulks. You don’t ask the same question Diana had but thank him for the batarang as he passes.

“That’s not fair,” Mordred complains.

“Get him!” Bruce calls.

You run behind Diana and aren’t surprised when you’re all encased in ice. Mordred is powerful, and you and your fellow “Justice Babies” seem to be forgetting that. When you fall into a dungeon and are freed from the ice, you scoot toward Bruce. One of the cells opens, and red eyes glow within. You clutch Bruce’s cape and watch as a small demon walks out.

“Etrigan?” Bruce asks.

He steps away from you, and his cape slips through your fingers. You stay behind John’s forcefield as Diana lifts Bruce out of the way of Etrigan’s flame. Diana has been closer to Bruce during this mission than usual, and the butterflies in your stomach start causing more pain than happiness as you wonder if they’ve been hiding feelings for one another in the Watchtower, too.

“Don’t hurt him!” Bruce yells as Clark pulls Etrigan away from you and John.

Etrigan bites Clark’s arm, and he calls, “Tell him that!”

“C’mere,” you tell Etrigan. You crouch to the floor and pull him into your arms. “Stop!”

He calms down, and Diana helps Bruce up as Etrigan cries. You look at Bruce and shrug.

“He’s just a baby,” Diana says.

“And he needs more than a hug,” John adds, waving his hand in front of his nose.

“Now, that is a job for Superman,” Bruce says.

Bruce takes Etrigan from your arms and passes him to Clark. When Bruce takes your hand to lead you out of the dungeon, you nearly trip over your own feet. You’ve never been more ready to grow up before, you think.

Mordred’s new kingdom is comprised mostly of children doing what they were never allowed to do before. When you walk through the paths surrounding what used to be the center of the park, you are surrounded by children doing dangerous stunts and breaking rules.

“You two, knock that off!” Clark demands when he sees two boys playing with wooden swords.

“What are you gonna do? You’re just a kid,” they taunt.

Clark shoots a laser between them and answers, “I’m the kid with laser beams coming out of his eyes.”

“That’s just gonna scare them,” you interject before they run away screaming. “You can’t threaten kids the same way you threaten criminals.”

“Then what do we do?” John asks.

“Tattle,” Diana answers. She flies to an elevated area and yells, “That’s enough!”

Everyone freezes, and you find yourself reaching for Bruce.

“You can’t tell us what to do! You’re not our mom!” someone replies.

“No, but I promise you we will find all of your moms and I’m gonna tell!” Diana answers.

“Well, what should we do?”

“Go outside and wait for your parents. Now!” Diana demands with a hand on her hip.

“Man, your girlfriend sure is bossy,” John tells Bruce.

“Shut up,” he replies before leaving John’s side.

Those butterflies in your stomach become dead weight. You stall behind John, but he turns to look at you.

“You like Bruce,” he accuses.

“What? No!” you answer too quickly. “We’re friends.”

“Mmhmm.”

John gestures for you to come with him, and you follow Bruce together. You know that John knows more than he ever lets on, and if anyone found out about your crush, you suppose you should be glad that it’s the one who can keep a secret. Better him than Wally.

“He’s almost asleep,” Diana whispers as you look into Mordred’s hideout. “We can take him.”

“I’ll make a lawnmower and chew him up,” John suggests.

“A lawnmower?” you repeat incredulously. “Why?”

“I say we get that amulet away from him first,” Bruce says. “We’ll split up and sneak behind him. Then Lantern can do his thing. But no mowers.”

“Why?” John questions.

“Because it’s stupid,” Clark answers.

“He’ll hear it, too,” you whisper with much more kindness than Clark.

“I guess I’ll go with Clark,” Diana says. “Unless I should go with you,” she tells Bruce.

“Whatever,” Bruce answers.

John sees your eyes drop and says, “Clark can go alone. I’ll go with Diana.”

You appreciate it but shake your head because you don’t want to be left alone with Bruce.

“Whatever,” Bruce repeats.

“Go,” John whispers.

You lead Bruce around the side of the cave, and John shakes his head as he watches you go.

“What’s with them?” Clark asks.

“Really?” Diana questions.

“Man, for somebody with fifty different kinds of vision you are so blind,” John responds.

“What?”

“Is that a claw?” you ask Bruce as John tries to get the amulet.

“Unfortunately,” he answers.

He may be young, but his sarcasm hasn’t changed a bit. You lean against him when John’s claw wavers before disappearing. The amulet falls to Mordred’s chest, and Bruce moves you carefully as he calls, “Get the amulet!”

You join Bruce, Diana, Clark, and John in a failing attempt to hold Mordred down and take the amulet. He uses his magic to grow and throws Bruce and Diana off of him before standing. A young girl is standing nearby, and you take her hand to lead her to safety as the others fight Mordred.

“Bats!” you yell, just as you had as an adult this morning.

Bruce looks back and sees the living gargoyle chasing him and John and directs John toward a small bridge.

“Close the door!” you yell as Bruce enters the castle.

Diana closes and locks the door behind him, and you listen to John come up with complicated plans to stop Mordred as Bruce thinks.

“Forget it!” Bruce calls after John mentions giant handcuffs. “We’ve got to focus on…” Bruce’s eyes lock with yours and he says, “Never mind what I just said. We’ll take care of everything else. Lantern, you go crazy.”

“What are you going to do?” you ask.

“It’s time for all of us to grow up,” Bruce answers.

He takes your hand before running toward another area of the kingdom. Your butterflies begin reviving, and you wonder if anything will be the same after this.

“Go!” he yells to Clark.

Clark pulls the amulet from Mordred’s neck while he’s distracted by John before tossing it to Bruce.

“This is the most dangerous game of keep away I’ve ever played,” you yell as you take the amulet from Bruce and run it to Diana. Diana throws it to Etrigan, and you flinch when he bites into it. The wave of purple magic that escapes it is unsettling, but you don’t take your eyes off Mordred.

“I already absorbed too much of the amulet’s power,” Mordred says as he stands.

He uses his magic to suspend all of you, and Etrigan, upside down in the air. He pulls a sword from a nearby stone, and it turns purple before reappearing as a curved blade.

“I’ll take care of my kingly duty myself,” he declares.

“Is he really going to behead us in an amusement park?” you ask with your arms crossed over your chest.

“I’m scared,” the girl you helped earlier says. “I want my mommy.”

Mordred lowers his blade to say, “You don’t need a mommy. You’re better off without one. Trust me.”

“Ooh, mommy issues,” John muses. “Those ain’t easy.”

The girl begins crying and Clark taunts, “Some king.”

“I’m not impressed,” Diana agrees.

“What’d you expect? He’s a boy doing a man’s job,” Bruce finishes.

“You don’t know what it’s like being stuck as a kid,” Mordred says.

“Since you’ve had all that power, you could have been a man anytime you wanted. I think you’re too chicken to grow up.”

“Yep, big chicken. That’s what you are,” John agrees, flapping his arms like wings. “Bock, bock.”

“Face it, precious,” Bruce continues. “You like being a little mama’s boy.”

“I’ll show you!” Mordred yells. “I’ll show you all.”

“Sure, you will,” you agree with an eye roll.

“And when I am a true kind, I’ll start with the human!” Mordred adds, pointing to you.

Bruce looks at you, but you keep your eyes on Mordred as he spreads his arms and is surrounded by purple ribbons of magic. Etrigan claps as Mordred’s spell spreads, and he reappears as a man.

“I’m older than you now,” Mordred says as he turns to face you.

The magic released his spell, and you catch yourself as you fall from the air.

“You sure are,” Bruce says.

Mordred disappears, banished by his own spell. As an adult, he couldn’t stay, and now you can only wait until Morgaine does her part. Bruce steps to your side and you turn your face toward him.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer just before Morgaine appears.

“A bargain is a bargain,” she says as she waves her hand before you.

The spell is lifted, and you are an adult again in only a second. You hadn’t prepared for the change in size however and are pressed against Bruce’s chest with the sudden growth. He makes no move to get space from you, though.

“Mommy,” Etrigan coos at Diana.

She drops him and steps back. You chuckle at the scene and Diana looks at you with furrowed brows before smiling and rolling her eyes.

Morgaine opens a portal, and Bruce places a hand on your hip as he steps around you.

“Wait,” he calls. “What happened to Mordred?”

“My spell gave him eternal youth but now that he’s broken it all he has is eternal life,” she answers.

“Circumstances aside, it was kind of enjoyable to be a kid again,” Diana says.

You walk to Bruce’s side and watch the happy reunions of children with their parents.

“I’m sorry,” you offer softly.

“For what?” he asks.

“You just- you didn’t get to be a kid like the rest of us.”

“Perhaps Diana was right. It wasn’t completely unenjoyable.”

He turns toward you, and his arm is pressed to your shoulder.

“You’re telling me the big, bad bat had a little bit of fun?” you tease.

“You never talk about your childhood,” he deflects. “So, I’m sorry if this brought up bad memories.”

“Just dead butterflies,” you answer.

Bruce glares at you, but it’s the one unique to when he’s reading you.

“Is that why Lantern sent us off alone together?”

You look down as you nod.

“My butterflies are alive and well, and happy to wait for you,” Bruce murmurs.

“Butterflies or bats?” you ask.

“Should we be having this conversation in an amusement park?”

“You’re right. Let’s go to Metropolis and make the cover of the Daily Planet so Clark has to write all about it.”

Bruce sighs, but he takes your hand as he leads you outside the amusement park. He presses a button on his utility belt and the Batmobile pulls up a moment later.

“Bruce,” you say once you’re inside. “You were a really cute kid.”

“You were really bad at eye contact,” Bruce counters. “Or was that just with me?”

“I guess crushes aren’t just for kids,” you muse.

“Maybe Diana will stop pestering me to ask you out now.”

You nod as you watch the road before you. It takes a moment, but you finally understand what Bruce just said.

“What?”

[littlemisssquiggles]

Okay…I gotta talk about these last two episodes of RWBY Beyond…

As much as I liked the “Boba” episode; I mean it was very sweet for the series to finally address one of the remnant elephants in the room which was Yang and Ruby briefly discussing what happened to her in the Ever After.

I liked that Yang finally no longer needed to front the burden of leadership by herself like how it was in the past.

I like that the show finally had that point brought up because it’s been a key observation of Ruby’s role in the group for a really long time. So I’m happy we finally got this development along with other drops of info---like Tai Yang missing in action in Vacuo.

That’s interesting. What could Tai be doing if he’s not in Vacuo with everyone else? My best bet is that Tai is probably teamed up with Glynda Goodwitch since she’s also MIA and the “assignment” at hand must have something to do with the true whereabouts of the Chamber of Choice. At this point, it has to be that.

Overall, “Boba” was a sweet episode and I’m looking forward to seeing how this new detail will be used in the future. The episode left off with Ruby and Yang agreeing on using the word “boba” to signal to one another when they will need emotional support from each other moving forward and I’m looking forward to see how that will come into play down the line.

That being said, while the last episode was nice, it’s not the one that I got my attention. It’s actually the previous episode. The one with the Adventures of Somewhat. Particularly how that one ended.

That ending got me hyped.

One thing that I’ve been itching for was to have RWBY return to the Ever After. And the main reason I wanted for this return is because of Oscar.

As ya’ll know, Oscar is going through the Merge with Ozpin which he is also trying his best to fight off.

So one headcanon that I’ve been playing with is something tragic happening to Oscar to force RWBY and co to return to the Ever After in order to help him.

So my headcanon was that while in Remnant, Oscar gets poisoned by Tyrian and falls into a comatose state, twerking the lines of life of death. In order to save Oscar, Ruby and the others figure out the only way to help him lies in the Tree of the Ever After. So they have to figure out a way to get to the Ever After. Unfortunately, the only way for them to get back to the Ever After is through how they got there in the first place: through the powers of the Relic of Creation which is sadly in the possessions of Salem. Therefore, our heroes must figure out a way to regain the Staff in order to get back to the Ever After in time to help Oscar go to the Tree so he can be saved through his own form of ascension.

The portal that opened was one of the portals created through the power of the Relic of Creation. And given Somewhat’s reaction, it has to be someone that they recognize which means that whoever it is before them has either got to be Ruby or all of Team RWBY (plus Jaune).

My money is that it’s probably Ruby since Ruby was the closest to the Somewhat back when they were still Little.

Either way, this has me excited! I mean, yeah sure, I could completely be heavily mistaken about this return to the Ever After being connected to needing to save Oscar at all.

But regardless, it does at least confirm that there will be a return to the Ever After to come for V10.

Personally, as a Pinehead, I want this return to be related to helping Oscar with the Merge so badly because I can’t think of it being related to anything else but that. Unless it has to do with finding a way to stop Salem in the Ever After.

I mean, it was highlighted back in V9 that the Brother Gods were the “children” of the Tree of the Ever After. And given that Salem is a by product of the Brother Gods’ meddling, finding a solution to undoing Salem’s immortality in the very birthplace of the very Gods who made her what she is isn’t too far of a stretch. I mean it makes sense from a narrative standpoint.

But regardless of that, I’m sticking with my first hunch. I really, really want the Return to the Ever After to have to do with Oscar’s Merge and potential Ascension.

I just want it to be about taking Oscar to the Tree.

I need it to be about that because…it makes sense. Ever since ascension and the Tree were brought into RWBY’s lore, I’ve been wanting Oscar to go to the Tree since I really think it could be the key to helping with the Merge.

Either to stop it as a whole or…have Oscar go through his own form of reform and become the person he needs to become.

Of all the characters who I wanted to meet the Blacksmith, Oscar is one of them. Like he’s the perfect candidate for this kind of development.

But I dunno. These are just my wild thoughts on this subject after watching the final two episode of RWBY Beyond.

Speaking of which, that's it. That's all the episodes of RB officially out which means, as of now, that's it for RWBY until they announce something about V10.

In the mean time, these are my jumbled thoughts on the last two episodes.

~LMS (2024)

[angelltheninth]

Can I request a Nanami x fem reader where his girl jokingly pulls him in by his tie at work but she doesn’t know how turned on he gets by it? Pent up Nanami my beloved

I love ties for this exact reason Anon.

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, workplace sex, tie pulling, rough sex, panties to the side, desk sex, pent up Nanami Kento

A/N: Ties were a great invention.

Pent up!Nanami tries his hardest to not let his frustration get the best of him during work. You don't even know the half of it really, how hard he has to hold back when you wear shorts skirts. There should be some kind of dress code because his cock is not having a good time when he sees you in those.

Pent up!Nanami would never admit it but he has jacked off in the bathroom stalls more then once. He hates makes the kind of mess that he does, and worse having to hold back groans in case someone walks in. He has a reputation to uphold.

Pent up!Nanami gets so hard when you pull him by his tie and into a playful kiss. It may be playful for you but for him it's like an invitation. Good thing he had his glasses on so you didn't see the way he closed his eyes shut when he felt that little tug and the press of your lips against his right after.

Pent up!Nanami sets his tie back into place the first couple of times you pull on it so you don't really think there's anything wrong with him. The kisses are always short, quick, in between things that don't let you see the aftermath of them, his pants tenting and his hand cupping over the bulge.

Pent up!Nanami has officially had enough of your teasing. If you're gonna be like that then you better be ready to do something about his erections too. He can't do all the work. Well he can but he would really prefer not to when your holes are right there and wet and willing.

Pent up!Nanami considers taking his tie off when he pushes you against the desk but decides against it. He can undo the buttons on his shirt, he can take off his suit jacket, his pants can be around his ankles, his glasses can be off, his hair can be messy and slick with sweat but that tie stays on.

Pent up!Nanami won't take your panties off either, he doesn't have the patience to anymore, he will only move them to the side. Better yet you can hold them to the side while he fucks his cock into you. You already know how wet they are right? Then what do you think you do to him when you tease him all day?

Pent up!Nanami grips the edges of the desk with full strength, his veins bulging as he rocks you and the desk back and forth from the reckless, hard pace he's decided on. You can't even get a grip around him with your legs because he keeps nudging them apart every time. You can only hold onto his shirt, hair or tie.

Pent up!Nanami has to put his hand over your mouth to keep you from moaning. But he's not having an easy time either, and he's all out of hands. Well there is his tie still, he can bite down on that. You never thought you'd see him so far gone that he has to gag himself with his own tie to keep noises down.

Pent up!Nanami decides on a special tie that he will wear to work because he can't fuck you every time you pull on his tie. When he wears his special tie it's a sign that he wants to fuck you. Kind of like people leave a tie on the door handle.

[homunculus-argument]

The thing about arguing about peoples' motivations is that after you dismiss "I don't want to" as a valid reason as why someone will not do something, anything you suggest to fix or undo the reasons why they do not want to do it will be dismissed, and you're just going to get more and more mad about being shot down because you dismissed the first cue. Let's say you tell someone to go outside more, and they tell you that they don't want to, because it's cold out there.

"Just dress more warmly", you suggest. Which means: "use adaptive tools in order to better do the thing that you don't want to do."

"I don't have warm clothes", they answer, which means: "I don't own the tools to do the thing that I don't want to do."

"Just buy better clothes then", you suggest, becoming frustrated.

"I don't have the time or the money", they answer, which means "I don't want to spend my time and money in order to buy tools that I don't want to own that I would need to do an activity that I never wanted to do in the first place."

Eventually you've gone back-and-forth for so long that you are livid that they have wasted your time shooting down all your helpful help and advice with an endless list of one excuse after another. And surprisingly enough they are also livid with you for wasting their time by having to explain that they don't want to go back to school to study a different career that they don't want to study in order to get a second job in order to afford to buy tools that they don't want for an activity that they don't even want to do.

And when it finally sinks in that they just simply do not want to do the thing that you told them to do, you say "well it sounds like you just don't want to do it at all!" and word it as an accusation. But really, you simply made an observation. About something you were already told, in clear explicit words, three hours ago.

[ladyofthenoodle]

fic idea from 2020 that the paris special unearthed from the archives of my brain:

So far, there wasn’t a single thing about this new reality that wasn’t terrible. She was grounded, for some reason, which she didn’t know about, and was therefore double grounded for breaking the rules of the grounding. Which she hadn’t known about!

To make matters worse, when she’d gone to text Alya to complain about the unfairness of it all, she realized she didn’t have Alya’s number. In fact, she didn’t have anyone’s number except her parents, Nadja Chamack, her grandmother, and someone called The Supreme.

She next turned to Tikki to vent, but when she checked her (admittedly cool) purse, she found her kwami wide-eyed, terrified, and most horrifiyingly, muzzled—which Marinette couldn’t figure out a way to undo. 

So she was stuck in the bakery on a Saturday morning with angry parents and no one to talk to and no ideas on how to get out of the worst version of Paris possible.

Which is when Adrien Agreste’s bodyguard walked in. Brief hope flared in her heart before extinguishing just as quickly when she saw he was alone.

Which she should’ve expected. With how awful this world was, she wouldn’t be surprised if Adrien didn’t even exist here. She couldn’t imagine a world this awful with him in it.

She bagged up the Gorilla’s order with a heavy heart and sent him on his way before looking out the bakery display window with a sigh.

Only to spot Adrien Agreste himself, with an asymmetrical haircut and thick kohl around his eyes, staring back at her. He was different than her Adrien—and she couldn’t say she was a fan of the hair—but he was just as handsome, and his eyes even more striking with the eyeliner.

When he noticed her looking, his eyes widened and his cheeks started to turn pink.

Was he blushing?

Marinette could feel her own cheeks heating up as he stared. She ventured a small, embarrassed wave, and he—he!—

He lifted his own hand, brought it to his lips, and blew her a kiss.

Crash!

Marinette, along with about 300 macarons, toppled to the floor.

“Good morning, Marinette!” said Adrien Agreste, during a time that was decidedly morning but far too early to be described as ‘good.’ 

She scowled at him.

“Girl, you okay?” said Alya Césaire, who was—who was speaking to her.

Right.

Alya Césaire was speaking to her. Because Alya Césaire, Hesperia’s favorite lackey, was apparently Marinette’s best friend.

And Adrien Agreste was the boy Marinette was in love with.

She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m great, Alya! Super dee duper. Absolutely swell. What a beautiful morning with all the sunshine and the…. morning.”

Alya looked unconvinced.

“And the Adriens!” Marinette added hastily. “I mean, the Adrien. Because there’s only one Adrien and he sure is… here. Hello Adrien! Your face is looking very attractive this morning, because you are an attractive person. And that’s… something positive I can say about you.”

“Thanks, Marinette!” said Adrien with a dopey little smile. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or just deeply stupid. If her diary entries were to be believed, it was probably the latter. “Your face is looking attractive this morning as well. Did you do something new with your makeup?”

Marinette had done her makeup the same way she did every day, but she supposed his Marinette opted for a boring girl next door ‘no makeup makeup’ look.

Alya squealed next to her before giving her shoulder an excited squeeze.

Marinette took several deep breaths.

“Yes, I thought I’d try something new.”

Adrien smiled and nodded.

Alya shoved her forward.

Marinette barely managed to restrain herself from sending Alya a patented Toxinelle Death Glare. Instead, she smiled wider at Adrien.

Her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you soooooo much for noticing my makeup. That is a thing I am excited about. I love putting on makeup to impress cute boys, tee hee!”

Adrien’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—I know you always dress for you, Marinette! That’s something I really admire about you.”

His eyes were so earnest, so sincere, and for a second, she almost—

Marinette cleared her throat. “That’s so nice! You can leave now.”

Adrien blinked. 

“Bye!” She shooed him.

“Oh, um, bye Marinette,” he said with a sheepish wave, and then he left.

Nailed it.

“Girl, what the actual fuck?”

[dancingbirdie]

I interrupt your daily schedules to present some purely plotless Astarion x gn! Reader smut. Courtesy of me listening to an oldie but goodie "What's My Name" by Rihanna ft. Drake during my morning commute.

Note that this is seriously NSFW so don't read below the break line unless you're a horny little gremlin like this pair or me since yeah I wrote it. :)

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

The Things We Could Do in Twenty Minutes…

Rating: MATURE

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Oral sex (Astarion receiving), hand kink, slight praise kink, slight dom!Astarion/sub!Reader, public sex/exhibitionism

Summary: You and Astarion have been tasked with a scouting mission. You grow a little bored from waiting around and very horny watching Astarion play with his knife.

***

The two of you were leaning side by side against the alley wall. Watching. Waiting. Poised to strike whenever your quarry exited the tavern across the street. 

But it was late. You had been skulking about for hours. You were bored. 

And Astarion, gods damn him, was flush against you, smelling like temptation and sin. Subtle wafts of his signature bergamot, rosemary, and brandy scent teased your nose as his fingers idly spun his blade around in his hands. 

Your breath hitched as you watched him. Watched how gracefully those long, slender fingers absently played with the knife while his eyes scanned the street for any signs of activity. He was totally oblivious to your ogling, which was good because you could swear you were starting to salivate just watching him toy with his weapon. 

You wondered how those fingers would feel scratching against your scalp. Pulling your hair. Clasping your jaw. 

Fuck it, you thought. Throwing caution to the wind, you reached a hand forward to caress his chest. His head whipped around immediately to look at you, brow furrowed. It was an innocent enough gesture, but his eyes caught the look on your face, illuminated dimly in the silvery light of the moon. How your pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust. 

He smirked, one delicate fang peeking out from between his lips. 

“Can I help you?” he drawled. 

“You can actually,” you whispered. Your hand lightly traced down his chest, down his abdomen, before it stopped at the bindings of his trousers. 

You looked up at him beneath your lashes, your eyes beseeching.

“My, my,” Astarion chuckled, his voice like silk. “Wanting to play while we’re on the clock? Tsk. What would our comrades think?”

“It’ll make our cover seem more convincing, don’t you think?” you reasoned, licking your lips as you noticed the growing bulge between his legs. “Just two unassuming lovers, swept up in a moment of passion as they passed this dingy alley?”

“Our target should be leaving any moment now, darling. We wouldn’t want to miss our window of opportunity.”

“I give it at least twenty minutes before the tavern closes. And just think, the things we could do in twenty minutes…”

He gave a throaty laugh. “You make a very convincing argument. How could I ever deny you?”

“Is that a yes then?” your voice was husky, struggling to contain the urge to drop to your knees and taste him. You would wait for his consent. Of course you would wait. But you couldn’t deny the heady desires ratcheting up within you. 

“Yes,” he cooed, nuzzling your neck and planting a quick kiss against the fang marks he’d left earlier that evening. “Go on then, love.” 

“Thank the gods,” you groaned, immediately kneeling before him and undoing the bindings of his breeches. 

You captured him in your mouth as soon as his impressive length sprang free, tasting the salt and musk of him as you took him as far back as your throat would allow. Your eyes watered with the pressure of him pressing down your throat. It was the sweetest pain. 

You heard the muffled thump of his head as it hit the brick wall. You relished the tortured groan that spilled from his lips as you continued to gorge yourself on him.

Then a moan of your own vibrated against him as his hands moved to grip your hair. His fingers scratching against your scalp nearly had your eyes rolling back into your head. With your hands braced on his thighs, you continued to bob your head, sucking, licking and swallowing around him. 

He tasted like the purest drug you could ever inject into your veins. You would never tire of doing this for him. Of hearing and feeling how your mouth and tongue caused him to shiver and quake with pleasure. You could feel your own release building because of it, despite the lack of any stimulation to your groin. It didn’t matter. 

You had no desire for anything but Astarion’s pleasure tonight. 

“Look at me,” he growled suddenly. You felt his fingers clutch your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. 

You peered up at him as you continued to piston your mouth around his length, whining softly as you beheld the look in his eyes. 

“I want you to look at me while I cum in that gorgeous, sinful mouth,” he whispered, his hips beginning to buck into you, meeting your movements in perfect synchrony. 

You moaned again at his words, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum as you continued to suck him. 

“Are you ready, darling?” he murmured, his other hand reverently stroking your hair. A stark contrast to the absolutely deplorable things you were doing to his cock. 

You gave a garbled assent, taking him in with a surge of passion as you anticipated the feeling of his release shooting down your throat.  

A few moments more and your anticipation was rewarded in full. You groaned as you heard him grunt. Felt his final, feral thrust into your mouth. Tasted the salty sweetness of his cum on your tongue. 

As he came down from his high, you gave him one last, obscene lick before removing your mouth. Slouching against the wall, utterly spent, he watched as you deliberately met his eyes and swallowed his cum with a gulp. He hummed his approval, grinning wickedly. 

“You naughty thing,” he crooned. “You’ll be the death of us both.”

You returned his grin with an impish one of your own before wiping your mouth clean on the sleeve of your shirt and rising to stand next to him once more. 

You surveyed the street. Scanned the tavern for signs of movement. Nothing was amiss. Your quarry hadn’t escaped.

“See?” you murmured, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Twenty minutes was all I needed.”

***

[starspence]

drunk dial [aaron hotchner x reader drabble]

in which reader butt-dialed hotch on a girls night, leading to him confronting her on her doorstep the night after with a raging problem in his slacks. (cw; just pure filth tbh, praise, piv sex, bau reader, interwork relationships, fem!reader, aftercare) (w.c. - 2.3k)

masterlist ♡

Hotch held a tight ship at the BAU. He was a man known for enforcing every rule, no matter how tedious, with an iron fist; even when he fought the urge to break protocol himself, whether that be on the basis of family or other personal matters.

When he found himself on the doorstep of one of his employees after an unfortunate butt-dial on your end, every ounce of restraint he had left slowly began to leave his body.

"Hotch," You gasped, your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth hanging slightly agape. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," He affirmed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I... wanted to let you know I got your call last night."

Your face only grew more contorted. "Call?" You echo, confused. After a moment of silence, your face paled, recalling the events of the night prior. "Oh my god. Did I drunk dial you? I'm so sorry. I was out with the girls and-"

"Not exactly," He interrupted. "May I?" He inquires, gesturing to your apartment.

You nod, opening the door fully and allowing him inside. "What... What did I do?" You ask defeated. "If I caused you any trouble I'm so sorry."

Despite his incessant need to console you, to let you know everything was okay and that the reason he was there is, in fact, not because you were in trouble - he enjoyed letting you suffer a little. Perhaps a bit sadistic, but not the worst thing that would happen tonight, he thought.

"You dialed my cell last night," He began, his voice calm as ever, "and I answered. But it didn't appear you knew I was on the other line, or that you called at all for that matter." He continued, tone unwavering.

You stayed silent, face pale and fidgeting with the skin on your nails.

"If I recall, you said you would 'fuck Unit Chief Hotchner senseless,' does that ring a bell?" He teased with a low laugh. "If drunk words are sober thoughts, then I figured I should pay a visit."

You were no longer ridden with anxiety, but a new, more chilling emotion, that sent a wave of heat through your body. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if the offer still stands, I'm happy to take it."

"Really?"

"Really."

He stood still in place, not moving nor speaking so you can play the cards. If he interpreted the situation wrong, he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to lose one of his most prized agents.

So you did what you'd been wanting to do since you first stepped foot in his office just under a year ago.

You took a step forward, grabbing his tie and pulling his face into your own, crashing your lips together in a passionate and hungry kiss. His hands clawed at your waist, smushing your body impossibly closer to his while he grinned wickedly into your mouth.

You wasted no time pulling him to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you while he pushed you against the firm piece of wood, careful not to accidentally ram your back on the doorknob. His lips found yours again, and in a rushed and clumsy manner he began to undo his tie. You shrugged his blazer off for him with a low laugh which he mimicked.

"Eager, are we?" He teased, breathless and panting.

You smiled, your fingers finding the buttons to his dress shirt and fumbling them apart. "How could I not be?" You replied, looking up at him through your lashes. "My boss who I've had an unspeakable crush on just said he wants to fuck me."

He chuckled again, shrugging his shirt off while his own fingers the found the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and running his hands up your back to unclasp your bra in a practiced fashion.

"You should've told me sooner," He said lowly. "I've been trying to find an excuse, something to justify these wildly inappropriate feelings. And that drunk call..." He trailed off, sliding the bra down your arms and removing it from your chest, exposing your breasts. You shivered.

His lips dove to your neck and you threw your head back against the wall with a high pitched moan. He let his hands wander, moving from your shoulders to your forearms then finally gripping your hips. He took his time and trailed wet, sloppy, hard, kisses down to the top of your breasts, only pulling away to admire the light bruises he left.

"Fuck Hotch," You whispered, biting your lip.

"None of that," He scolded, standing straight again and looking into your eyes with a primal hunger. "Aaron. You're calling me Aaron tonight."

"Aaron," You echoed, the word foreign on your tongue. "I want you, Aaron."

His name on your lips felt like heaven to his ears. He smirked, guiding your body to sit on the end of your bed. He stood in front of you, never breaking eye contact while he worked thoroughly to unbuckle his belt. Something about the silence of the room being broken by the clang of the metal stirred something hot in you.

"Say it again," He demanded, letting his slacks pool at his ankles and stepping out of the fabric. He kneeled down, untying the loop of your sweatpants and tugging at the waistband.

"Please Aaron," you begged, eyebrows furrowing. "Need you. Need you to fuck me." You pleaded again, now lifting your hips so he could slide not just your pants, but your underwear as well, off.

"Atta girl." He praised, discarding your sweats on the floor. You reacted just as he wanted, a small whimper falling from your mouth when his words reached your ear. It didn't take him long to stand back up, pushing you down on your back while he stood between your legs and hovered over you. "You like that, huh?" He teased. "Gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you?"

You were rendered speechless. The stark contrast of the words you heard on a day-to-day basis compared to this... If you didn't know he'd be touching you in minutes you would've already begun to play with your clit. "Y-yes," you stuttered. "Wanna be good. Please."

He palmed himself through his boxers, the first time you'd actually looked at the tent that had formed. He tugged them down, springing out a cock so thick you worried about it fitting inside of your poor body. You audibly gasped, leading him to laugh at your reaction. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're stretched out first. I'm not that mean."

You smiled up at him, your cheeks hot and your mouth almost watering. He trailed his hands down your body again, taking in the sight before him. "So beautiful," He murmured. "So, so, beautiful." His eyes glanced back up to meet your own. "I could never stop myself from wondering what you were hiding beneath those horribly conservative work clothes," He admitted. "Much better than what my imagination ever conjured up."

"So you've thought about me, then?" You teased, goosebumps covering your body at the image of your boss getting fired up in bed late at night, imagining the same things you had touched yourself to many times before.

"Every night," he replied with a cocky grin. His hand traveled between your legs, letting one of his digits slide through your folds to collect the already pooling wetness that now satiated his fingers. "Already so wet," he commented.

He never broke eye contact as he slipped his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to memorize every contorted feature on your face. They were thick and long, beating some of the men you'd had before in size with his fingers alone. You gasped, eyebrows furrowing as your head hit the back of your bed.

"Eyes on me," he commanded, leaning down to press his chest against yours and propping himself up with his free hand. "Come on, I know you can do it."

You strained your eyes to stay open as you made contact with his, mouth falling agape as he began to move them in and out of you slowly. His wrist made contact with your clit, his arm stilled between the two of you while his hand continued its work diligently. "O-oh my god," you murmured, "Aaron. So good. Feels so good."

He pumped them in and out a few times before scissoring them, prying your walls apart in a way that made you whimper beneath him. "Such pretty noises," he remarked.

You almost came right there, but you knew you had to hold on for him. Still, your hips bucked against him in a needy manner. "Aaron," You gasped, struggling to keep your eyes open. "Please," You sorely begged.

"What is it you need?" He taunted. "Use your words."

You whined. "You," you gasped, "need you inside of me. Need your cock Aaron. Please."

"There we go," He smirked.

He pulled his hand out and stood back straight, letting the fluid drench his fingers and cover himself in a few long pumps. "You sure?" He asked, raising his eyebrows while he continued to touch himself.

"God, yes." You groaned. "Been wanting this for so long. Please."

He lined himself up with your entrance and began to push himself in agonizingly slow. The second the head of his cock made contact with your cervix his head threw back and a loud, guttural, groan escaped his lips. "Fuck," He cursed, continuing his descent. "Shit sweetheart," He mumbled through his teeth.

"Aaron," You moaned. "O-one second," you pleaded, your walls clenching around him instinctively. "Need a second."

His head lowered and he looked at you with concern. "Of course," he replied formally. "Take all the time you need. It'll be better when I start moving though, okay?"

You nodded, gasping. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before looking back up at him standing over you. His face was flushed red, the muscles in his arms protruding and leaving a heavenly sight for your eyes. His hands wandered to your thighs, holding them open and squeezing the supple flesh beneath his fingers. You smiled, nodding at him, giving the silent 'okay' to move again.

"Doing so well," he praised. "So good for me. Knew you could do it."

He began to pull back, leaving half of himself in before pushing his hips forward to meet the same spot. He groaned, now beginning to pick up a slow yet deep rhythm that made you feel dizzy and hot.

"H-harder," you gasped. "You can go harder. Please." You asked again.

"Don't need to ask me twice," he joked, his hands moving to your waist and gripping tight. He pulled all the way back, snapping his hips forward again and hitting deep inside you. He pushed and pulled with his movements, the sound of skin slapping filling the room mixed with degenerate sounds that are more than unprofessional.

"You feel so good," Aaron gasped. "So fucking good, sweetheart." The constant praise made you clench down on him, a groan eliciting from his throat. "Love when you do that," he began, "drives me crazy. Been driving me crazy since I first saw you."

"G-gonna come Aaron," You warn, moans spilling from your mouth while he continues his relentless pounding.

"Yeah?" He says, "where do you want me, princess?" He groans.

The pet name alone made you whimper, eliciting a smirk from him. "Inside," you say through a moan. "On the pill. Need you inside."

He picks up his pace, slamming impossibly harder into your bruised cunt. He grips you harder, sure to leave hand-shaped bruises tomorrow. "Go on sweetheart," he urges. "Be a good girl, come for me."

That's all it took for you to yell his name, releasing yourself on his cock while he grinds his load into you, slowing his movements and letting you ride out your orgasm. He grunted your name repeatedly, toppling down on top of you so his weight is pressed on your body.

"Oh my god Aaron," you gasped, your eyes half lidded. You bring your hand to his face, running it up to his hair and wiping the sweat off of his forehead. "So good. Felt so good."

He grins, breathing heavily while his cock sits inside of you. "Did so good for me," he whispers, his own hand coming to rest on your cheek. "Such a good girl. So perfect."

You smile at the praise and let your body fall limp. He pulls himself out of you with a groan and you whine at the loss of pressure in your hips. "Need you to go to the bathroom," he says, grabbing your discarded panties and wiping the leftover cum spilling out of you. "Don't want you to get a UTI."

You whine again, sitting up with foggy eyes. "O-okay," you stutter, beginning to bring yourself to your feet but immediately toppling down on the bed again. He's quick to be by your side.

"Careful," he chuckles. "I'll walk you to the bathroom, hold on to me, yeah?"

You nod, gripping his forearm while you lead him there. It's not nearly as awkward as you thought, just intimate and loving. It's clear that tonight was much more than a fling.

When you arrive back in your bed, he slips in beside you and you give him a confused look. "Shouldn't... Shouldn't you go home? Jack," You whisper, your head in and out of consciousness.

"He's on a school trip, I'm not leaving you tonight." He reaffirms with a smile. "C'mere." He wraps an arm around your shoulders while you roll into his side, your face buried in his impossibly perfect chest. "You did so well tonight, honey."

You can't muster a response. Your brain is only occupied with the thought you'll get to sleep next to him tonight, so you hum happily and almost instantly fall asleep in his arms. He presses a tender kiss to your hair, lips lingering for a moment when you go limp in his arms. He smiles, a large and genuine smile, holding you protectively before falling asleep himself with the knowledge he has you to himself after nearly a year of pining.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

American education has all the downsides of standardization, none of the upsides

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

We moved to America in 2015, in time for my kid to start third grade. Now she's a year away from graduating high school (!) and I've had a front-row seat for the US K-12 system in a district rated as one of the best in the country. There were ups and downs, but high school has been a monster.

We're a decade and a half into the "common core" experiment in educational standardization. The majority of the country has now signed up to a standardized and rigid curriculum that treats overworked teachers as untrustworthy slackers who need to be disciplined by measuring their output through standard lessons and evaluations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Core

This system is rigid enough, but it gets even worse at the secondary level, especially when combined with the Advanced Placement (AP) courses, which adds another layer of inflexible benchmarks to the highest-stakes, most anxiety-provoking classes in the system:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Placement

It is a system singularly lacking in grace. Ironically, this unforgiving system was sold as a way of correcting the injustice at the heart of the US public education system, which funds schools based on local taxation. That means that rich neighborhoods have better funded schools. Rather than equalizing public educational funding, the standardizers promised to ensure the quality of instruction at the worst-funded schools by measuring the educational outcomes with standard tools.

But the joke's on the middle-class families who backed standardized instruction over standardized funding. Their own kids need slack as much as anyone's, and a system that promises to put the nation's kids through the same benchmarks on the same timetable is bad for everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/28/give-me-slack-2/

Undoing this is above my pay-grade. I've already got more causes to crusade on than I have time for. But there is a piece of tantalyzingly low-hanging fruit that is dangling right there, and even though I'm not gonna pick it, I can't get it out of my head, so I figured I'd write about it and hope I can lazyweb it into existence.

The thing is, there's a reason that standardization takes hold in so many domains. Agreeing on a common standard enables collaboration by many entities without any need for explicit agreements or coordination. The existence of the ANSI/SAE J563 standard automobile auxiliary power outlet (AKA "car cigarette lighter") didn't just allow many manufacturers to make replacement lighter plugs. The existence of a standardized receptacle delivering standardized voltage to standardized contacts let all kinds of gadgets be designed to fit in that socket.

Standards crystallize the space of all possible ways of solving a problem into a range of solutions. This inevitably has a downside, because the standardized range might not be optimal for all applications. Think of the EU's requirement for USB-C charger tips on all devices. There's a lot of reasons that manufacturers prefer different charger tips for different gadgets. Some of those reasons are bad (gouging you on replacement chargers), but some are good (unique form-factor, specific smart-charging needs). USB-C is a very flexible standard (indeed, it's so flexible that some people complain that it's not a standard at all!) but there are some applications where the optimal solution is outside its parameters.

And still, I think that the standardization on USB-C is a force for good. I have drawers full of gadgets that need proprietary charger tips, and other drawers full of chargers with proprietary tips, and damned if I can make half of them match up. We've continued our pandemic lockdown tradition of my wife cutting my hair in the back yard, and just tracking the three different charger tips for the three clippers she uses is an ongoing source of frustration. I'd happily trade slightly sub-optimal charging for just being able to plug any of those clippers into the same cable I charge my headphones, phone, tablet and laptop on.

The standardization of American education has produced all the downsides of standardization – a rigid, often suboptimal, one-size-fits-all system – without the benefits. With teachers across America teaching in lockstep, often from the same set texts (especially in the AP courses), there's a massive opportunity for a commons to go with the common core.

For example, the AP English and History classes my kid takes use standard texts that are often centuries old and hard to puzzle out. I watched my kid struggle with texts for learning about "persuasive rhetoric" like 17th century pamphlets that inspired anti-indigenous pogroms with fictional accounts of "Indian atrocities."

It's good for American schoolkids to learn about the use of these blood libels to excuse genocide, but these pamphlets are a slog. Even with glossaries in the textbooks, it's a slow, word-by-word matter to parse these out. I can't imagine anyone learning a single thing about how speech persuades people just by reading that text.

But there's nothing in the standardized curriculum that prevents teachers from adding more texts to the unit. We live in an unfortunate golden age for persuasive texts that inspire terrible deeds – for example, kids could also read core Pizzagate texts and connect the guy who shot up the pizza parlor to the racists who formed a 17th century lynchmob.

But teachers are incredibly time-constrained. For one thing, at least a third of the AP classroom time seems to be taken up with detailed instructions for writing stilted, stylized "essays" for the AP tests (these are terrible writing, but they're easy to grade in a standardized way).

That's where standardization could actually deliver some benefits. If just one teacher could produce some supplemental materials and accompanying curriculum, the existence of standards means that every other teacher could use it. What's more, any adaptations that teachers make to that unit to make them suited to their kids would also work for the other teachers in the USA. And because the instruction is so rigidly standardized, all of these materials could be keyed to metadata that precisely identified the units they belonged to.

The closest thing we have to this are "marketplaces" where teachers can sell each other their supplementary materials. As far as I can tell, the only people making real money from these marketplaces are the grifters who built them and convinced teachers to paywall the instructional materials that could otherwise form a commons.

Like I said, I've got a completely overfull plate, but if I found myself at loose ends, trying to find a project to devote the rest of my life to, I'd be pitching funders on building a national, open access portal to build an educational commons.

It may be a lot to expect teachers to master the intricacies of peer-based co-production tools like Git, but there's already a system like this that K-8 teachers across the country have mastered: Scratch. Scratch is a graphic programming environment for kids, and starting with 2019's Scratch 3.0, the primary way to access it is via an in-browser version that's hosted at scratch.mit.edu.

Scratch's online version is basically a kid- (and teacher-)friendly version of Github. Find a project you like, make a copy in your own workspace, and then mod it to suit your own needs. The system keeps track of the lineage of different projects and makes it easy for Scratch users to find, adapt, and share their own projects. The wild popularity of this system tells us that this model for a managed digital commons for an educational audience is eminently achievable.

So when students are being asked to study the rhythm of text by counting the numbers of words in the sentences of important speeches, they could supplement that very boring exercise by listening to and analyzing contemporary election speeches, or rap lyrics, or viral influencer videos. Different teachers could fork these units to swap in locally appropriate comparitors – and so could students!

Students could be given extra credit for identifying additional materials that slot into existing curricular projects – Tiktok videos, new chart-topping songs, passages from hot YA novels. These, too, could go into the commons.

This would enlist students in developing and thinking critically about their curriculum, whereas today, these activities are often off-limits to students. For example, my kid's math teachers don't hand back their quizzes after they're graded. The teachers only have one set of quizzes per unit, and letting the kids hold onto them would leak an answer-key for the next batch of test-takers.

I can't imagine learning math this way. "You got three questions wrong but I won't let you see them" is no way to help a student focus on the right areas to improve their understanding.

But there's no reason that math teachers in a commons built around the (unfortunately) rigid procession of concepts and testing couldn't generate procedural quizzes, specified with a simple programming language. These tests could even be automatically graded, and produce classroom stats on which concepts the whole class is struggling with. Each quiz would be different, but cover the same ground.

When I help my kid with her homework, we often find disorganized and scattered elements of this system – a teacher might post extensive notes on teaching a specific unit. A publisher might produce a classroom guide that connects a book to specific parts of the common core. But these are scattered across the web, and they aren't keyed to the specific, standard components of common core and AP.

This is a standardized system that is all costs, no benefits. It has no "architecture of participation" that lets teachers, students, parents, practitioners and even commercial publishers collaborate to produce a commons that all may share and improve upon.

In an ideal world, we'd get rid of standardization in education, pay teachers well, give them the additional time they needed to prepare exciting and relevant curriculum, and fund all our schools based on need, not parents' income.

But in the meanwhile, we could be making lemonade of out lemons. If we're going to have standardization, we should at least have the collaboration standards enable.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/16/flexibility-in-the-margins/#a-commons

[bagopucks]

A. Matthews - Worlds Worst Dad

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning(s): another family fight.

When I had gotten the request to do Auston and Hudson angst, I had initially started with two fics and for whatever reason I had them both completed last season. So I tweaked this one a little so I could still post it.

—————————————

Hudson was too young to understand.

“Just listen to me, bud.”

Auston had been so busy with the playoffs, that he hadn’t been home. He had been so busy with his job, and myself with my own, that at some point, we lost sight of how important communication was. Not necessarily for us, but for Hudson.

“You said you wouldn’t leave!”

“I’m right here.” Auston sounded so lost. I couldn’t blame him. Neither of us really expected our reunion to go this way. Hudson had been patient at first when playoffs began, but at some point he had given up. He’d become upset at first, worried. Nervous. Then he became angry. So angry. I couldn’t see into his mind. I couldn’t understand what he felt, but I knew it had to do with the way his biological father left. Sure, he didn’t remember it happening, but after his grandfather let the story slip one day, ‘fathers’ became a fragile subject for Hudson.

“You’re not around any more!”

Auston responded to texts when he could, and always called back when he missed a call, but the time zone differences made things difficult. Hudson didn’t understand why Auston couldn’t talk. Why Auston never stayed on the phone long enough to speak to him.

I had thought Hudson’s behavior would turn around when I announced Auston’s return home. Apparently it didn’t. I knew the knockout was hard, and I knew it took a toll on Auston, but I also knew he was ready to be back. I had warned the man before he came home, but I hadn’t expected Hudson to lash out the way he did. It was the last thing any of us needed.

“I’ve been a little busy, Hudson. Just chill out okay?”

I felt like a horrible mother. A horrible lover.

“Don’t tell me to chill out! You left!”

“Hudson don’t speak to Auston that way.” I reprimanded hopelessly.

“I didn’t leave.” Auston argued with a scoffed out laugh.

“Yes you did! Get out!”

“Hudson.” I finally heard him get tense.

“Get out!”

“Hudson, listen to me!” Auston raised his voice. It wasn’t something he did with Hudson. Mainly because he never had to. I could tell by the silence, that Hudson was trying to understand what was happening. Trying to process what it meant that Auston was angry.

“No!” The boy finally shouted back.

“Hudson! I have to work!” Auston finally snapped. I flinched, raising my hand slowly to clasp over my mouth as I felt a pang of emotion in my chest. Hudson simply didn’t want to be abandoned again. Not by another dad.

“I don’t want you! You’re a horrible dad!”

I jumped off the couch as soon as I realized what had been said. The blanket over my legs falling to the floor.

“What? You don’t mean that.” Auston’s nervous laugh had my heart thudding against my chest.

“Yes. I do.” The determination in my son’s voice had me immediately crossing the room to reach my son. “You’re horrible.” I watched Auston’s expression shift, and I felt my own breath catch in my throat as I spotted the tears in his eyes. As I reached for my son, he turned, shoving my hand away and storming off down the hall. The slam of the bedroom door had both of us flinching. My hand flew up to rest against Auston’s arm, squeezing gently.

“Aus,” I couldn’t undo the damage that had been done. I could see it in Auston’s eyes. He was devastated. “You know he doesn’t mean that” I whispered as I tried to turn his body to face my own. “He’s just emotional.”

“He said it pretty loud and clear.” Auston gestured toward the door, speaking as if it was an obvious fact. And it was. But that didn’t mean anything. Hudson was a kid, and Auston had done no wrong. He’d understand that eventually, and come around.

“He’s having a hard time. You have to know that.” I tried to push a piece of Auston’s long hair back before he pulled away, pursing his lips and shaking his head. My stomach twisted in knots.

“That’s okay… it’s fine- I’m fine.” Auston shrugged, “I’ve gotta go and get my dog anyway.” I had never seen Auston guard himself before in such a manner. He’d always been open with his feelings and emotions. “I’ll talk to you some other time, okay?” He shrugged once again, trying to keep up with the chill facade he usually didn’t have to fake.

“You can stay tonight.” I tried, but I knew he wasn’t going to.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t think I’m really making your life easier right now.”

“You’re not here to make my life easier, Auston.” I watched him slip past me, and I followed him to the door. “Sometimes Hudson isn’t going to like things you do. He’s the kid. You’re still in charge.”

“I can’t be in charge of him if he fucking hates me!” Auston shouted in a hushed tone. I watched as tears finally began to roll down his cheeks. This was not the type of reaction he hoped for after such a shitty second round knockout. Things were piling up on him.

“Don’t go home alone like this.” I insisted, wishing I could have comforted him the way he had done for me so many times before.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, Aus.” I whispered as I watched him slip his shoes on.

“It’s not your fault.” He shrugged again.

“I’m still sorry. You don’t deserve it.” He turned to glance at me, eyes distant. Thinking.

“I probably do.”

We had said our goodbyes before Auston left. Auston and Hudson were best friends as much as they were family. I knew it killed Auston to think he’d hurt and disappointed Hudson. And I knew it made him feel terrible to think he’d done so horribly that Hudson hated him.

“Hudson.” I had waited a while to speak with my son, uncertain of what to say. When I pushed open his bedroom door, I found Hudson coloring in a book on the floor. Something bothered me about how calm he looked. He looked up from his coloring book when I approached, fidgeting with the blue crayon in his hand.

“Yeah?”

“Honey, you really hurt Auston.” I tried to be gentle as I spoke. I sat down on the floor across from Hudson, watching his eyes fall back to the book on the floor. “Hudson.” I tried to gain his attention. “Auston’s really sad. He doesn’t want you to be angry with him.”

Hudson’s hand shook slightly before he dropped the crayon. He remained silent before I heard him sniff.

“Then why’d he leave?”

“He told you, Hudson.” I moved to sit beside the boy, wrapping an arm around his back. “He’s gone away for work before.”

“But he always talks!���

“The end of the season was super busy for him, Hudson. Auston never meant to hurt you. He loves you, so much.”

“No he doesn’t.” Hudson pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his face in them as quiet cries escaped his lips.

“I promise he does. He always asked about you when he had time to call. He always said he was so excited to come home and see you. Hudson, he missed you more than he missed me.” I rubbed the boy’s back.

“No he didn’t.” Sometimes I cursed the heavens for giving my son the same stubborn behavior I held.

“Hudson.” I moved my hand from his back, turning his head to look at me. “Auston loves you more than anything. He hated being away for hockey. He hated the fact that he couldn’t be there to help you sign up for your first peewee team. He hated missing your last day of school, and he hated missing the little party we threw.” I watched the tears slip down his cheeks. “Auston tried so hard to call me that night. But things got in the way and he felt horrible.” Hudson leaned against my side, crying quietly as I returned my hand to his back, rubbing gentle circles.

“Is he mad at me?” Hudson’s voice trembled.

“Honey, I don’t think he’s angry. Just upset. You should never tell people you hate them. Especially someone as close to you as Auston is.”

“I’m sorry.” Hudson buried his head in his hands.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to, hun.” I ran my hand through the boy’s hair. “And the only way that guilt is gonna go away, is if you say sorry to Auston.”

“I will.” Hudson croaked out, another sob shaking his body. I sat on the floor with him for a half an hour before he began to relax. As much as I wanted him to apologize and be over with the ordeal, I figured a day with nan was needed first. A day for him to get out of the house, to see one of his favorite people, to avoid the situation at hand. He’d been at home waiting for Auston for weeks. He needed a break.

So the next morning, I helped him pack up and promised I’d be there the following day to see him. He asked about apologizing to Auston, but I said it was a good thing to give somebody space when they’re upset. I didn’t tell him I had plans to visit Auston. Kids didn’t need to know everything.

“One minute!” I heard Felix bark. I hadn’t seen the dog in forever. I was tempted to press the doorbell again for the sake of fun, but just as I reached for it, Auston was pulling the door open and hooking a finger in Felix’s bandana to hold him back.

“Hey, what’s-“ he stopped the second he looked up from his dog, a smile slow to form on his lips. Though it faltered when his eyes wandered, taking note of the unusual silence.

“No Hudson.” I spoke reassuringly. “I just came to see you.” I wanted to check on him, but Auston didn’t need to know that.

“You can come in.” Auston stepped aside and let Felix go. I walked into the house as he shut the door, greeting Felix with a high pitched hello and rubbing the dog’s ears while he padded his feet on the floor and wagged his tail endlessly.

“Somebody just got a hair cut.” I commented. “And he looks so handsome!”

“Thanks.” I looked up at Auston when he spoke, laughing at his sarcasm.

“You certainly look like you could use one too. Need me to cut it?” I offered, standing upright to pull at a lock of his brown hair. “It is getting a little long.”

“If you have time.” Auston shrugged. I could tell he was uncertain as to whether this was a quick stop or a full day visit.

“Well, Hudson’s having a sleep over with nan. So, if you’ll have me, I wouldn’t mind staying here tonight.” I smiled. “I’ll have all the time in the world then.” I watched him smile and nod, reaching for one of my hands.

“Yeah, yeah you can stay.” I was surprised when Auston pulled me into a hug, his entire body pressed against my own while his head fell against my shoulder. He was stressed. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was still about Hudson.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get this hair cut.”

Auston and I had been so busy, that we almost forgot how important it was to continue to nurture our own relationship. I couldn’t help the guilt I felt as I watched him walk up the steps, following at a safe pace behind. I missed him. The alone time, the childish nights of cuddling and making out. Even the failed dates we vowed to never go on again.

I followed Auston into the master bathroom, setting the toilet seat down while he got the shears and hair clippers out, as well as a squirt bottle. He made sure everything was functional and ready before turning to me with his comb in hand.

This had not been what I came over for, but I knew a bit of loving contact would loosen him up and hopefully cause him to be more open to the conversation we needed to have. I wanted to be on the same page with Auston before he and Hudson spoke again. Sure, Hudson had said he’d hated Auston before, and yes they had sorted that conflict out on their own. But this was a little bigger than that. Hudson had hit Auston’s insecurities right on the head and he didn’t even know it.

“Pop a squat.” I spoke, gently resting my hand on Auston’s hip and guiding him down onto the toilet. “What did you and Felix do today?” I created small talk as I combed through Auston’s smooth hair, glancing at his face occasionally to see his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips.

“We went for a walk. Hung out by the pool for a little while, planned his next playdate with Zeus. Oh! And I ordered him some new toys and treats for his birthday.”

“I forgot it was his birthday coming up. How old is he going to be?” Speaking of the dog, Auston and I both looked toward the door when his tags jingled. Felix sat in the doorway, dropping a ball on the floor and watching it bounce into the bathroom. Auston laughed. I had missed his happiness.

“Not now, buddy.” He spoke to his furry friend. “He’ll be turning five.”

“Five is a big number.” I teased softly, earning a laugh from Auston. I set his comb down after I finished using it, reaching for the bottle to begin spritzing his hair. Once I was sure it was well wetted, I swapped once again for the shears. “Hold still, okay?”

“Got it.” We sat in silence for close to five minutes before I watched Auston’s shoulders drop. Relaxed? Relieved?

“How are you feeling today?” My tone grew much softer, trying not to cause any discomfort. I watched Felix lay down in the doorway before I began to cut Auston’s hair.

“I guess I’m alright. Still a little shaken up.. about everything that’s happened, but I’m okay.”

“I spoke with Hudson last night. He was pretty upset about what he said to you.”
“I guess that’s good to hear.” Auston looked down at his hands. I sighed.

“You know how much he loves you, right? You are the first person on his mind every day.”

“Yeah, but-“

“No, Auston. Listen.. kids say things they don’t mean sometimes. They don’t have the best filters, or grasps on their emotions. And Hudson has never spent that long without seeing you before. It was a routine that got messed up, and for kids, routines are important. Routines are things they expect that they can trust to be consistent. This was a learning curve for everybody. He was anxious. He missed you, and it was hard for him to go to bed at night without hearing from you. He also doesn’t understand time.” I took Auston’s silence as a cue to go on. “Even if you did nothing wrong, he registered it as something wrong. It may take him some time to figure it out, but he still loves you, and once that consistency is restored, everything will be okay.”

Auston shuffled his feet slightly, nodding.

“I’m sorry I left last night.”

“Aus, a lot of shit happened last night. I didn’t expect you to stay. You’ve been so stressed, and I know that fight didn’t help at all. I’m just happy I can be here with you today.”

It was about fifteen more minutes before I finished cutting Auston’s hair. I set everything aside and grabbed a towel and a washcloth from his cabinet. “Why don’t you grab a shower, I’ll get you some clothes and we can go lay down for a bit.” I set the two towels down on the lip of the tub as Auston stood up. When I turned around, I came face to face with him.

“Thanks for being there,” his voice was barely louder than a whisper, hands landing on my hips. Our lips met briefly in a chaste kiss before I pulled away. “I’ll be fast,” he promised. I stepped out of the bathroom and pulled the door closed, fetching a fresh set of clothing from Auston’s dresser. I stepped back into the bathroom, placing the clothing on the counter top. Auston had already hopped into the shower, drawing the curtain back slightly to peek at me. 
“Wanna join?”

I pretended to consider the question before I sighed, as if I was plagued by saying yes.
“Fine, but only because I missed you, Matthews.”

“Awesome.” I watched the curtain fall closed, laughing softly to myself. I stripped down, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. I slid the engagement ring off my finger, placing it in the jewelry dish by the faucet. One Auston had purchased for days and nights spent at his place. I climbed into the shower, Auston’s hands swiftly finding my body. I helped wash his hair, and rubbed the muscles that were sore while Auston busied himself with every inch of me. His behavior left me giggling for most of the shower, and once the water was turned off, I ushered him out, following close behind. Auston grabbed the towel I had set out for him, wrapping up with a smile on his lips.

“Gotta keep you warm,” Auston spoke, going the extra mile to kneel down and dry my legs. I ran my hands through his fresh cut hair while he worked, smiling to myself at how kind he was.

“Alright, why don’t you get dressed, Aus? I’m gonna go grab some clothes.” I slid out of the bathroom, grabbing a makeshift outfit for myself, constructed of Auston’s clothing. I had things to wear at his place, but his stuff was so much more comfortable.

When Auston stepped out of the bathroom, our eyes met. It had been so long since we were able to spend any time alone. I watched his expression shift into a look of mischief before he rushed in my direction. A gasp escaped my lips when he hoisted me up over his shoulder.

“Auston!” I shouted at him, but it was in vain. I felt him lift me up once again before my back came into contact with his mattress. Then I heard Felix bark, and soon he had joined us for some fun. The fluffy dog hopped up onto the bed, and I was quick to sit up to avoid any unwanted kisses.

“You’re an ass,” I whined at Auston in a playful tone. He climbed up onto the bed and gently pushed me down onto my back once again. Felix tried to invade our fun, sniffing at both Auston and I, before Auston gently waved him off.

“It’s not nice to insult your significant others.” Auston spoke, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips. He climbed off of me and up the bed, sitting down as I sat up. I joined him by the headboard, resting my hand beneath his jaw and bringing his lips to my own again.

“It’s not an insult. It’s a reality check,” I teased. Auston giggled softly, and I swore I could have heard him snort.

Auston laid down and settled his head in my lap. Felix approached with a wagging tail, sniffing at me, and my stomach, before laying down next to me.

“I missed you so much,” Auston whispered as his head came to rest atop my own. “I wish you and Hudson could have come to a game.”

“I know, it just wasn’t in the cards for us this time. It will be next time though.” Auston’s silence made me tense slightly.

“What if there isn’t a next time? What if we don’t make playoffs again?” I looked at him, brow furrowed.

“Whether there is or isn’t, Hudson and I will try to make every important milestone you reach. I can’t tell the future but I can tell you right now, that we love you very much, and we want to be there for you.” My words brought a smile to his lips.

“Thanks,” I pressed a kiss to Auston’s forehead. His eyes fell closed, sighing in comfort.

“Oh, and Hudson watched every one of your playoff games on the tv, just for the record.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern Attitude

Next chapter

a/n guilty... guilty... guilty... I caved in. I own up to my weaknesses. Promised myself to never write for this man and here I am now. This is my first time so be gentle. 🗡️🫧

summery: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: injuries, blood, bleeding out, alcohol, needles, death, trauma fun stuff.

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You two hated each other. That was a fact, and there was no way around it. It was scowling glares, sharp jabs during training if you two were paired together, and bitter remarks thrown here and there. And the joy of it all was that Price had granted you a shared room on the base. First, the excuse was that there was simply not enough room; the team had grown. Then he said he wasn't having a team that was up on biting each other's necks out. So in conclusion, he had set it up on purpose.

Did it help? No. It was a disaster. The man was insufferable. And, in all honesty, you had no idea what you had done. You had thrown a sexist card at him multiple times because you simply couldn't find another reason for his unmeasured dissatisfaction as to why you shouldn't be here. Never had he said anything nice your way. You got it; the guy was secretive. You didn't need to look far. The fact that he never took his mask off was proof enough. But to be so against someone you didn't even spend time with?

"Clean your mess", Ghost huffed, dropping his wet towel on the bed. You lifted your head away from your book. At least you two had separate beds on the opposite sides of the room. "It's on my side", you said, pointing to the white line that Ghost had drawn on the floor like a kid the first night you dragged your stuff here. The rule was simple: you stayed on your side, he on his. The bathroom was the only exception. "Yeah, I have to look at it, don't I", he grumbled, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. You paid him no mind, your eyes turning back to the pages. "Poor you, does it mess with your posh tea time?", you chuckled under your breath, earning a growl from the other side of the room.

And that's how it went. More than not, you considered any word coming out of Ghost's mouth a win. Because a new tactic the asshole had adopted was pretending that you weren't even a thing. You were an actual ghost, and Simon didn't believe in the paranormal clearly. You fastened your vest, double-checking that your on-hand weapons were right where you wanted them. "Do you need me to do a touch-down for you?", your head darted up, only to be met with a smug-looking scot. Soap. You couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "Do you think that if you keep asking, the answer will eventually change?", you snickered back, shaking your head. Soap shrugged. "You tell me, bonnie?", the man teased back. Leave it to Johnny to joke around right before a mission. You hummed, "Maybe I'm more into you undoing it", Gaz snickered somewhere in the back. Soap's smirk grew even bigger. You knew that it was all good fun. Neither of them would make a move. They respected you. To most, you were like a sister. They had become your family. One you never had. Before Soap could say anything in return, the back door swung open, and in strolled Ghost. God, he looked good. Six feet of pure muscle. And when this man was in his full gear... You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the way he looked before dropping your gaze. Suddenly, you were way more interested in the guns on the table than anything else.

Johnny came to stand next to you as the team gathered around the table. Price loved to gather everyone around before it all went off. John was like a father to most. You were no exception. You liked to tease the boys that you were his number one. His girl. And well, by law, you were. Considering that he pulled you out of the foster home, you owned this man a lot, even if he said that it was all in the past.

"You know the drill; go in, grab what you need, and get out. Try to keep it clean", Price said, pulling three sheets of paper and scattering them around on the table. "Soap and Ghost, you're together. I'll go with Gaz. Sugar, you're alone on this; we will clean the path for you, though". It was supposed to be a joke that name. You wanted something cool. Something as cool as Ghost, but Johnny was quick to remind you that his nickname was soap "And sugar", He had said, "That's quite literally white death". So it stuck.

You nodded your head, only to find Ghost shaking his. "Got something against it, LT?", you snarled. His eyes met yours over the table. With the war paint, his eyes were even more radiant. "She can't go alone. She doesn't know how to hold herself back and will do something stupid", now it was your turn to growl. Scratch the fact that you found this man attractive. You will suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep when you return to base. "Want to go with her, Ghost?", Price said calmly, knowing full well the answer would be a hard no. "We meet in the safe house afterward", Price continued without acknowledging the death glare Ghost was wearing, "Come back in one piece, you bunch". Everyone nodded quietly, reaching for the masks, double-checking the cartridges and radios. You were all climbing into the motorcar when Soap nudged your shoulder. "I'll hold you to the undressing part", he winked, hurrying to sit down. Your anger simmered down as you flipped him off in return, his laughter booming. It was Ghost, whose unimpressed eyes followed you two, gripping the gun in his hands tightly as he chose to stare ahead.

It was nothing—the mission. The base that needed to be checked out was pretty much abandoned. A couple of kills. A smoke bomb here and there. It was easy. Simple. They laid a clear path for you to do your thing. Your small frame was what they needed here. Air vents weren't the best of friends with hulky soldiers. "Do your worst, Sugar", Price had muttered into the radio some time ago. Your response was a cold, "Copy". The four of them were left to watch over the main entry points. Yet sending you into the belly of the beast felt wrong. At this point, Simon had lost count of the number of times he had reached for his radio, ready to call out to you. But he talked himself out every time.

"Got it", your voice pierced the silence. Ghost's shoulders drooped. "Good girl, bring it home", Price called back. Soap looked out of the window, "We should go meet them at the-", but his voice was cut by the cracking that came from the radio. Then it all died down. Silence. Soap locked eyes with Ghost. "Price, you copy?", Soap called out. Silence struck again. "All good here, you copy?", the captain called out. "Positive", Ghost muttered into the radio. Gunshots echoed deep within the base. It was you. The noise had to come from you. Ghost felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to find a way to get to you. To cover you. Yet the rational side of his brain screamed at him, saying that there was no way for him to do so.

The crackling filled the air around him once more as they rushed toward the spot where the team had agreed to meet. "Abort", your breathless voice came through the radio. "Get your asses out", you were panting. Ghost could hear you reloading your gun. "Sugar, what's the situation?", even Price's voice sounded more panicked. And the old man kept his cool. They all did. This whole shit could have been a setup for all they knew. Even outside, the sound of bullets pierced the silence didn't ease. Simon wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but your labored voice still twisted at his heart, "Get. Out."

The safe house had never felt so quiet. Usually, at least Soap was a never-ending chatterbox. Now the male stood in front of the window. Not moving. His eyes were glued to the forest in front of him. Price was half a bottle down on the bourbon. Gaz's leg hadn't stopped bouncing. They all had minor bruises, but that was expected.

"We need to go back", Soap said, rubbing his palms together. "You know that we can't, Johnny", Price puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no doubt thinking of ways he was going to break the news to his wife. "She wouldn't fucking leave us", Soap snarled back. You would expect a handful of army men to be able to hold their composure in situations like this, but... You had dragged them all out of a dark pit. You were undoubtedly good at what you did, yes. But you offered much more. The safety blanket. A proper homemade meal when there was time, and that was a lot for a man who had been stuck in the base for months, missing home. There had been so much more laughter and smiles since you joined the force. As if you had breathed back humanity and a sense of life into their ice-cold bones. And now they all had to go back to...

The handle of the back door creaked. All four of them reached for their guns in unison. But no one besides them was supposed to know where the keys had been stashed. A lucky coincidence? The odds were too slim. But the door jerked open, and they all lost the breath they were holding.

"What a fucking greeting", you muttered, dropping your helmet to the side. Soap moved toward you first. Simon would have loved to beat him to it, but he found himself sitting back down, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "Here", you yanked the chip from your vest, pushing it into Soap's hand. "Mission complete, captain", you eyed Price. Before moving to undo your gear. "How many?", John asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. The blood on your forehead was crusted. But the sound of drops hitting the wooden floor was constant. "Six", you breathed, moving to undo your vest, and that's when the first growl left your lips.

"You're bleeding", Johnny breathed, reaching for your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I'll lick my own wounds", your tone was cold. It was colder than it usually was. Ghost watched you slowly walk towards the stairs, but not before you had reached for the Bourbon. "I'll come to stitch you,", Price had called out, only to be harshly cut off with a harsh, "No".

You locked the doors behind yourself. Your vision was going hazy. You had managed to get away. You had no idea how because there had been a moment when you were sure that death was standing right behind your back, breathing at your neck. You had killed before, had blood sprayed all over you. Yet something about this felt different. Maybe it was the fact that there was a moment where you weren't the one in control. When they had managed to yank you across the floor by your ankle. You shivered at the image of a knife being jabbed on either side of you as you dodged blow after blow.

Your hands gripped the sink. You will do this. You will patch yourself up. Swallow a couple of pills and go to sleep. You knew there was no way you were getting your shirt off, so you wasted no time as you sliced the fabric with your pocket knife, wincing. Slowly peeling the damp material from your shoulder. Would this be easier if someone else did it for you? Yes. But you didn't want anyone's hands on you. Not now. Not when your brain was still fuzzy. The trickle of blood ran down your chest and through the sports bra you had on. You knew what followed next. You've done it multiple times. Drink bourbon. Splash some on the wound. Dig the fingers in to fish for the bullet. More bourbon. Stitch it up. You ran yourself through the steps one more time. One more look in the mirror before you force yourself to do just that.

Simon's hands were gripping the chair he was sitting on. Every little whimper from upstairs ripped at his composure. Stubborn girl, never knowing how to accept help. And a whimper, a whimper he could handle, but when a loud cry filled the quiet space, Simon was up and going. Every other step was skipped, and he was right in front of the second-floor bathroom. Hand on the handle as his shoulder hit the locked door. "Open up", Ghost banged his fist into the surface. "Go away", your voice was barely audible. Too long. He had sat downstairs for too long. He should have come barging in the moment you tried to play a big girl. Should have carried you back downstairs. "Don't make it bloody difficult", Simon's voice was husky. His own body ached, but he wasn't about to sit back and watch you bleed out.

You didn't answer him. "Sugar", he called out, "Open the fucking door, or I will break it", he wasn't even sure why he was bargaining with you now. But he respected your privacy. He always did. Even in the room you shared. His face was always facing the wall when he knew you were taking a shower. Just in case you had forgotten your clothes and would need to quickly get to your side of the room, this was different; his stalling could cost you your life. So he doesn't say anything else. Backing a couple of steps back, Simon braced himself for the impact. The hinges were old, so one shove from him was enough to break them; the rest he could handle with his two hands.

Ghost's breath hitched once more. "Stubborn, bloody woman", he hissed. The floor was covered in your blood; there was not a single clean towel. Your figure was slumped by the bath. "Price", his voice was more of a roar that made even you jerk your head up. "Get out", you breathed, trying to put distance between you two. "Like fuck, I will", Simon grunted, reaching towards you, his palm pressing into your shoulder. You cried out, your nails digging into his wrists, but the pressure didn't ease. "Fucking hell", the captain called from behind, "Get her downstairs".

"No", you hissed as Ghost lifted you, "Get away". But you knew that it was over now that they'd seen you. Simon tried to lower you down, but you whizzed in pain. "From the back", you say through gritted teeth. "What?", His eyes searched yours; you knew he was struggling to understand you. "The bullet", your breath, "from the back". Simon's eyes darted up to John, who slowly nodded his head, "Keep her up, then", and you could feel him pulling the rest of your shirt off.

"Liquid courage", a bottle was dangled right in front of you, and you could just about make out Soap's shaky hands. "I don't need it", you muttered, feeling the way Simon's chest rumbled with a disapproving growl. "Don't fight it, kid", Price called out from behind you, "You know how it's done". He was looking through the medical bag, no doubt making sure that he had everything he needed on hand. You open your mouth, and Soap quickly takes the hint, tilting the bottle upwards.

"Bite this and hold onto Simon's shoulders for me", the captain delivered his words like an order, but you still shook your head. "Jesus women, do you have a death wish or something?", Ghost muttered, hands moving from your legs that were still wrapped around his torso to your hands, pulling one of them over his shoulder and the other, the injured one, across his torso, so Price could work on it easier. But your palms stay pushed away from his skin. So does your chest. He was too close. You couldn't. Simon doesn't like his personal space being occupied by anyone.

"Deep breath for me", was the only last warning John gives you before you feel a pain like no other ripping through your back. And that was all it took. All it too, for your hands to clamp around Simon. Nails were in his skin as you yelled out, trying to pull away from whatever Price was doing. Simon's big palm cupped the back of your head, guiding you down onto his shoulder. "You got this, love", he muttered against your ear. The grip he had on you did not falter, not even for a second. "Almost there, Sug, just a bit more", Price said through gritted teeth. You could feel him digging through your back. The burning icy cold now.

Your body was working on its own accord. Hand reaching for the side of Ghost's face as another wave of pain ripped through you, making you holler out. Simon didn't pull away. And maybe you were high on pain, but you could swear you felt his lips against your palm. Kissing your skin through the material of his mask. Your breathing got shallow. You wanted to pull back to look up at him. Into his eyes. At least one more time. But your body felt heavy. Your fingers gently caressed the side of his face. The smell of him calmed you. You pressed a weak kiss against his neck, feeling a shiver running down his back.

"Keep her talking, Simon,", Price grumbled in frustration. Something probably wasn't going how it was supposed to. But it was okay. You had made your peace with it. "Come on, look at me", Simon pulled your limp head away from his shoulder, tapping your cheek a couple of times. "Keep your eyes open, eh? Or I'll leave my wet towels all over our room for the rest of the month", there was a tinge of something new in his voice. Some kind of light worry. Frustration. You blinked a couple of times, the corners of your lips turning upwards. "You wouldn't dare", you rasped out, your mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden. "Why is that?", Simon asked straight away, his eyes not leaving yours. You let yourself breathe for a bit; you didn't have enough strength to answer right away. "I'll get you pink sheets and...", a cough made your body seize, and Ghost's grip on you tightened instantly. And there. There it was. A flash of worry caught his eye. "A fuzzy rug", you finished finally. Simon's palm ran over your sweaty forehead. "I'd like to see you try, darling", he breathed out, but there was no amusement in his voice.

"She's too fucking pale, Price", you heard Soap's voice from the side, or at least it sounded like it. "Shut up, Johnny,", the captain grumbled. "Don't close your eyes, Sugar", you felt another nudge from Ghost, making you blink up at him once more. "It's cold", you muttered, feeling your hand slip down his torso, falling limp by your leg. "John", Ghost said in a warning tone. He was trying to make you hold back on him, but your hand slipped away every time.

It was the way your hand limped against Simon's face that sent the last wave of panic through him. Your clammy skin pressed against him. And he was back there, back in the house where his family was killed. No, he couldn't lose you. Not now that he had found you. Not without you knowing that he also cared, just like everyone else. "Y/N", he called out softly. He had never called you by your real name. Never had a chance to see if your eyes would shimmer when he did. "Don't do this", he breathed again your not injured shoulder, "Don't you dare fucking die on me". But he was met with nothing. Only then did he realize that he would have to live with nothing but regret and your blood on his hands. All because he couldn't find a way to let your light shine through his cold demeanor. All because he was afraid of the fact that he had found himself caring again.

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x Tattooed!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Hiiiii I'm the one who asked for the tattooed reader with nat and I wanted to say thank you, I love it... I have another request... Maybe younger reader, who is a virgin, with nat who literally praises them throughout the whole thing and just kind of guides them... Not necessarily a totally innocent kind of reader, just that they don't know exactly what to do. G!P or male reader would be great, just whatever you're comfortable with, and if you can/want, reader has tattoos (if you haven't noticed I'm kinda obsessed with them). Hope you had/have a great day❤️ (sorry if it's kind of confusing, English isn't my first language sooo yeah) 

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Read the original blurb here!

You’re a little surprised when Natasha asks if you want to go to her room after the party, but not enough to turn down her offer. You’re not stupid, and you’re pretty sure your little display at the pool was enough to catch her eye. But at the same time, you’re a little nervous, because despite what everyone thought about you, you’d never actually done it before.

She holds your hand while she guides you into her room. You’re a little surprised at the lack of character it has: just a bed, a plain dresser, and a desk in the corner. There are no knick knacks, no memorabilia, no pictures or posters.

You knew that Natasha Romanoff is a woman who is very hard to read and immensely secretive, but you hadn’t expected this to extend to her own private room as well. But this was your chance to get to know her--assuming you didn’t disappoint tonight.

Natasha guides you over to her bed and sits down to face you. You don’t even realize that you never put your shirt back on from the pool until she leans forward to run her fingers across the sword tattoo on your left side.

“I got that after I spent six months in Japan,” you volunteer, a little uncomfortable with the silence. 

“What about this one?” Her fingers move up to touch the dragon on your chest.

You shrug. “My friend designed it. I just thought it looked cool.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Natasha drops her hand back to her lap and leans back, biting her lip as she looks you up and down. She spreads her legs and grabs onto your shorts to drag you forward until you’re standing between them. “Obviously I brought you here for a reason. But only if you want to.”

“O-Of course I do.” But your stutter gives away your nerves.

“Are you sure?” Natasha hesitates.

“Yes. It’s just...I’ve never...” Your cheeks heat up at the fact that you have to explain to her that you’re still a virgin, but she tugs on your shorts again, bringing you down into a kiss. Her lips taste like coconut lip gloss and press against yours softly.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you,” she says.

You want to tell her that you’ll take care of her, but your words are lost when she kisses you again, wrapping her arms around your back and pulling you on top of her. You put your hands on her shoulders, not really sure where else to put them, but as the kiss deepens you find them gravitating towards her chest and groping her over her bikini.

“Hold on,” Natasha says, breaking away from your lips and sitting up to undo the knot behind her neck. She slips out of her bikini top and you have to consciously keep your jaw from dropping when she exposes herself to you. 

“Can I...”

“You don’t have to ask,” she chuckles, amused by your manners. 

You cup your hands around her breasts, surprised at how soft they are and rubbing your fingers over her nipples.

“My turn,” Natasha says, practically panting as she reaches for your shorts. You’re a little nervous to show yourself off like that, and she can tell, but she brushes her hand along your thigh and asks you to take them off yourself. With a deep breath, you pull your shorts down, your cock springing out hard and ready, and it’s Natasha’s turn to hold back an exhale.

“You’re gonna stretch me out so good,” she hums and you feel yourself throb at her dirty words.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” you say, not sure if the words will turn her on or further show your lack of experience. 

But Natasha doesn’t comment, lying back down and sliding out of her bikini bottoms. You carefully move on top of her, enjoying the silky feeling of her bare skin against yours. Your hips rock against hers, your cock twitching as it makes contact with the insides of her thighs.  

“Inside,” Natasha begs suddenly. “I need you inside.”

“I...I don’t have protection,” you say, the thought suddenly dawning upon you. 

“You don’t need it.”

“Are...Are you sure?” The last thing you need right now is to become a parent. 

“Do you trust me, baby?” Natasha asks, and your heart soars at the pet name.

“Of course.”

You sit back to line yourself up, tensing in anticipation and not wanting to blow too early. As you slide yourself in, all you feel is a warm tightness around your cock, better than your hand or any toy you had ever been inside of.

“Oh fuck, Nat,” you pant, pressing yourself deeper, desperate to feel that same warmth along your entire length.

“Finally,” she moans, dropping her head back on the pillows. “Start thrusting, baby. Fill me up and make me feel good.”

You take her waist in your hands, jacking your hips forward in uneven, short strokes. You don’t really have the focus or the patience to take your time, but you also want Natasha to be happy with your performance. 

“Fuck, right there,” she says, her nails suddenly clawing at your back as you lean down to kiss her again. “A little harder, baby. Don’t be afraid. You won’t break me.”

You grunt as you try to deepen your strokes, railing into her harder. Her walls clench around you perfectly and you know the stimulation is already too much. You try holding out as long as you can, but you spill before you can even give Natasha a warning, pausing as you release your cum into her in sporadic bursts.

“I...Oh, God,” you mumble, embarrassed and ashamed. “I’m so sorry, Nat--”

“Don’t be,” she says, stopping you from pulling out. “We’ll try again when you’re ready. It feels nice to have your cum inside of me.”

It’s strange to hear something so crude come out of her mouth, but it makes your cock twitch. Maybe it’ll be ready for round two sooner than you thought.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[angelltheninth]

Cursed Tea Party

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, very dub-con, drugs, aphrodisiacs, rough sex, possessive sex, love confession, gaslighting, lovesick!Riddle

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Commission for @nobu999. I don't write darker content often but every once in a while it's good to switch things up.

There was something wrong with you. You could tell ever since you left the tea party. Actually before then. It was the reason you left, you couldn't stand being there anymore, with your head spinning, body getting so hot you had to take off your uniform jacket and loosen up your bowtie to make breathing easier. It didn't help. Maybe a cold shower would do, if not, maybe one of the toys you had hidden away in your closet.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? I could escort you back if you're sick." Riddle was the first one to notice how bad you were looking. It was his party so naturally he wanted to keep an eye on all the attendees.

"No, no!" The moment his voice reached your ears the throbbing and heat became nearly too much to handle. You had an urge to push him down, kiss him, tell him about every sinful fantasy you've ever had and beg for him to be the to fulfill them. "I swear I'm alright, I think I may have caught something. But I can make it back on my own."

None of the boys seemed to happy about that. You promised you'd call one of them when you're in your room and let them know you're fine. That was an hour ago. How could you get so lost in the labyrinth? Riddle didn't change it, as far as you knew. Every turn seemed to lead nowhere. Left, right, going back, nothing worked. You were simply lost. Lost and so painfully horny.

"Oh my, are you still here?" When did Riddle get behind you? Was he here to help you? "I thought I sensed someone here. What's the matter? Are you lost?" He walked up to you with the grace of a ruler, his crown perfectly in place, staff twirled in his hand and a very amused smile on his lips. So fucking sexy. "You're making a puddle. Hm, perhaps I put in a little too much." He frowned for a moment but then shrugged it off, like it didn't seem like vital information.

"Too much? What do you-" He took your hand in his, his touch and lips so hot they hurt your skin. It was nothing compared to the vines and thorns that crept up behind you and bound you up against the labyrinth wall. "Riddle? What's going on? What are you doing? Let me go!"

"Unfortunately I can't do that, my sweet rose. What you consumed in your tea was a very powerful aphrodisiac. I should have considered the dosage more carefully. I'm sorry for putting you through that, but it's alright, I'm here to help you now. I'll make it all better." His little chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, and not the nice kind. Your mind was torn, run or ask him to help?

Help? He just admitted he was the reason this was happening! But he was also the one offering to help. No, he was the one in the wrong here!

While you had your inner turmoil you didn't notice him undoing his pants and starting to stroke his cock, "I took some too you see. You're not alone, you'll never be alone again with me around. I'll take care of you, I'll be the best boyfriend you've ever had." Another sinister laugh left his mouth, his eyes blown wide, the crown now slightly on its side, "I've been waiting for this." Riddle used the top of his staff to spread your legs and move your panties to the side. The cold ruby pressed against your aching clit, the sound that left your body a cross between a moan and a pained whine. "Hurts right? I'll make you better love, I'll make it all better."

His cock came as sweet relief to your empty pussy, "Riddle..." You could barely think about anything, everything felt like it was too much, but his cock... it was perfect and just what you needed.

"Did you just come?" Riddle looked so happy with himself, his hips barely moving while he waited for your pussy to stop fluttering around his length. "I just put it in. You must have been suffering without my cock."

"I didn't. I didn't come." It was shameful to admit otherwise. This wasn't what you wanted to happen, how you wanted it to happen. "Not like this." You turned your face from him but your mouth still moaned when he thrust into you, "Don't... please stop moving... it's too much for me." Riddle never listened to anyone, you weren't about to change the King's mind either.

"I love you, I love dearest. Don't you see? I love you so much. After I saw you on my first party I had to get close to you, but you always hung around everyone else. You wouldn't even sit next to me!" You heard him yell before, a lot in fact, this was a different tone, broken, desperate, "Please understand. Understand how much I love you, I'm helping you realize it. Please."

What should have sounded like the unhinged ramblings of a madman wormed their way into your heard, warped your mind, made you finally look at him.

"Finally. You're looking, you're looking at me! Look down here too! See how well your pussy takes my cock? It's greedy! It wants this! You want this! You want me as much as I want you! Don't you?! Don't you, my beautiful rose?!" The warmth at the pit of your stomach returned at full force, the loud, crazy sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, burning lust and devotion reflecting your flushed face with such clarity, as well as how clouded your mind had become.

"I do love you." Riddle's face lit up with glee, the words freeing you of doubt that you weren't sure why it was there in the first place. Riddle was helping you, who are you to refuse his help? "I love you." You chuckled, "I've loved you for so long." Another laugher, a little bit louder, "Riddle."

Your back arched as far as it was able, stars dancing in front of your eyes, pussy twitching around Riddle's hard cock. "You're so tight! I'll make this one better for you! I'll make your cunt feel so good, let me fill it up." Your constant stream of pleas was only broken when you felt it, his cock emptying inside your, ropes of it painting your sensitive inner walls.

When he leaned against you to catch his breath you'd noticed the tight pressure around your wrists release. Now you were free to hold him, and he was free to hold you, now that you were fully complaint.

"Let's take you back to my castle. After today I think we should start moving your things there. And maybe inform the Principle that you'll be doing online classes only. I don't want anyone else laying their eyes or hands on you." Riddle gathered you in his arms, your body fully limp against him, pussy still pulsing with need around his cock, "There, there. You'll get more, don't you worry." He pressed a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. The two of you began your way back through the maze, Riddle's crown forgotten where you'd just been.

[avalypuff]

Answers to the common questions of “Why didn’t Zelda retain dragon features?” and “Why did Link’s arm revert to normal?”

I’ve been dying to do some analysis posts since TotK came out, and after seeing a lot of people complain about the above, I decided my first should be related to the endgame.

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts where people seem to misunderstand what was going on when Zelda changed back into a Hylian, and why Link’s arm returned to normal. Many write this off as simply plot convenience, and while it’s true that Nintendo wouldn’t want to leave the main characters of one of their most popular titles with permanent changes, I’m here to try my best to explain the actual reason these things happened the way they did, because whether you noticed it or not, there is plot relevance to this reversion.

Draconification is permanent.

This is an indisputable fact.

And while I have seen people criticizing the way Zelda changed back, the fact is she swallowed the stone knowing that she never would.

“I’ll be forever changed…”

Her cry for Link to find her was not for her sake. She wasn’t depending on him to find the key to changing her back. Nay, the only reason she desperately prayed for him to find her was so that he could get the Master Sword, which—ignoring game mechanics that would allow you to beat Ganondorf with literally any weapon with the right damage/durability ratio—canonically is the only thing that can hurt him.

When Zelda changed back, it was almost entirely thanks to Sonia. That’s right!

…Let’s take a second to recall this scene in which Rauru decimated the horde of Molduga.

We see Sonia extend her hand and then gesture for Zelda to do the same.

Here they’re extending their own power to amplify Rauru’s counterattack, even beyond the already-massive boost the Secret Stone provides.

In the final scene when Link finds himself hovering over the sleeping Light Dragon amongst a dream-like atmosphere, it’s really quite telling that Sonia is the first to rest her hand over Link’s, then followed by Rauru.

This time Rauru is fulfilling the role of amplifying Sonia’s power over time. Not just that, but adding it on top of the time manipulation that Zelda gave to Link at the beginning of the game.

That’s what’s happening here. This is immensely powerful, triple amplified time magic!

The change from dragon to Hylian wasn’t a transformation in the same sense that it was when Zelda changed from Hylian to dragon. I know that’s a confusing sentence, but consider the basis of Sonia’s time magic is recalling things as they once were.

Zelda didn’t retain dragon features because, through the power of time reversal, she was never a dragon to begin with.

This is the also the reason the Secret Stone reappeared on her necklace.

This is ALSO the reason Link’s arm reverted to its natural state before he was affected by the gloom.

And before y’all come at me with “well, why didn’t Rauru do that in the first place instead of giving his arm to Link?” Simple; Sonia wasn’t there. Even spirits aren’t omnipotent… in Hyrule. (Probably.)

The point is, this was essentially a lucky break for Zelda and Link, because if Sonia (and therefore Zelda, by inheritance) didn’t have time magic, there would have been no way to undo the Draconification. It would have been every bit as permanent as Hyrule legends and history says it is, and Zelda would be gone forever.

In fact, it’s likely it was a shot in the dark even on Sonia and Rauru’s part, considering there was no prior knowledge of reversing time on a dragon, let alone a person. It was a glorious blend of the convenience of Sonia’s time magic, and luck that it worked out the way they (“they” being all characters involved) wanted.

Anyways, to wrap this up, Draconification is indeed permanent, unless you have the number one badass-master-of-time-manipulation Queen Sonia on your side. Then you can probably undo anything. :)

[wroteclassicaly]

Nancy decided she didn’t want Steve. And now that she’s been away from Jonathan, has seen the growth Steve had to go through from everything he experienced (trauma, torture, being cheated on, thrown into the upside down shit, not to mention what he was going through before all of that, etc), he’s suddenly worthy of still being in love with? Don’t mess me with that shit, sis. Steve was never a bad boyfriend, nor was he a bad person. Before I started the show I expected some MAJOR douchebag that fucked his gf and then left her when he got what he wanted. Man’s only downfall was calling Jonathan names and being an asshole to other people (not counting him breaking Jonathan’s camera. He deserved it for taking those pics of Nancy and y’all know it).

He approached Nancy the very next day after he took her virginity to check on her. He constantly apologized when it wasn’t his fault. He only lashed out when he was hurt (rightfully so), and when he realized what nasty people Carol and Tommy were — he ditched them. Could he have handled Barb’s death better — sure. But he was also dealing with it, probably confused and pushing it down, and he tried to make things seem normal for Nancy’s sake, and for his own.

This shit of Nancy being jealous of Robin was so ignorant that I almost puked. And this was before I even finished the series. I knew I didn’t like Stancy when I watched the first two episodes (4x09 and 1x01). Nancy has to claim over Steve. Their individual growths should NOT be entwined. If you look at the inconsistency in trying to resurrect that ship, it almost seems like the D bros hate Nancy and Steve.

Their reunion will undo so much shit, and in my opinion, will destroy them. Not to mention that Steve will probably sacrifice himself in the name of Nancy and her future (avoiding the white picket fence garbage she didn’t want, whilst still getting their Stancy resurrection). They stripped Steve of his goals, his aspirations, they made him seem like he couldn’t date anyone, degraded him, swept his trauma under the rug, made him the butt of everyone joke, made it seem as if he’s uneducated and ignorant. It breaks my heart how mistreated Steve is, and by trying to force him and Nancy back together — that is the biggest injustice that can be done towards them both, but mainly to him.

Steve deserves to find himself, to find his interests, to process his trauma, to find someone that he loves beyond nostalgia, that won’t come back to him after she’s already grown and realizes that this changed version is good enough.

Nancy deserves more than that.

But Steve Harrington deserves it all.

Joe Keery is the reason Steve was kept around, and I feel like this is just awful to do to the work he’s put in at making Steve the heart of this group of characters. ❤️🥺

[ncis-nerd]

But Daddy I Love Him

ship: older!natasha romanoff x younger!reader. wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, mentions of cheating, older nat, jerk nat, younger reader, wanda is kinda a dick, age gap, arguing, being ignored.

a/n: happy ttpd day!!

"I'm done with being your second choice Natasha. Just because I am younger than you, it doesn't mean you can just go off with other women because you're scared to admit that they are what you are looking for. Someone older, more mature, someone you can relate to" Y/N exclaimed, her small frame against the older women's.

Her green eyes met y/n's gaze which only confirmed what y/n feared. "That's it? You aren't going to say anything?" Y/N spokes as she grabbed a suitcase from the closet.

"I'm so sick of Wanda! Don't think I didn't see all the ways she touched you. Her hands always on you whenever the two of you were together. I'll tell you this Natasha. I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'" Y/N threw her arms up in protest and huffed.

"Where are you gonna go." Natasha spoke dismmisingly. She doesn't think you'll actually do it. You have no where to go, no one to go to. Her eyes watering at the slight chance that you may be serious.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Natasha had an award dinner and she asked you last minute to come. It was odd she didn't ask you earlier in advance because they usually know about these things at least 6 months in advance with scheduling and whatnot. But you didn't think much of it. Because you didn't want to accept the alternative.

You came as her date but it sure didn't feel like it. You were the youngest there, all the avengers were at least 10 years ahead of you. It didn't help that your girlfriend left you to fend for yourself, your eyes stuck on her and Wanda. Natasha threw her head back, laughing. Wanda's hand on her shoulder. Their prolonging eye contact. The way they looked at each other. It gave you a bad feeling in your gut but you pushed it away.

No, I'm not coming to my senses. I know it's crazy. But he's the one I want.

You refused to accept it. She said she'd never let it come between you guys. That your age difference would never break you up. She lied. You rose up from the table but no one even noticed, everyone engrossed in their conversation. A stray tear fell from your glassy eyes.

You made your way to the bathroom. Attempting to keep your composure, they already think you're immature, you don't want them to see you as a baby on top on that.

You looked at yourself in the large glass window. You looked at your reflection. Your dress glistened in the light. The door swings open. It's Wanda. Of course she was the one who noticed you missing. Ironic isn't it.

"Y/N" she spoke, her voice filled with fake concern but a hint of guilt. You refused to meet her eyes, not willing to give her that sense of comfort. "Y/N, I'm not going to lie to you just because you're younger than us. I like Natasha. And honestly it feels like she is into me too. There's nothing I can say to make you feel better but I assure you I would never make a move on her while the two of you are together. I promise." Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

"I have money, I know you don't have anywhere to go but if you and Natasha should split, please call me. I don't want to on your own, fending for yourself. I can help you get an apartment or something." Wanda offered.

I just learned these people try and save you'. Cause they hate you

Of course, of course she wants to "take care of you". Because you're the little fragile thing who can't handle heartbreak. She just wants to make a move on Natasha, this is a ton of bullshit. You press your nails into your hand. You smile politely and say a simple thank you. Not wanting to cause a scene and give Natasha more of a reason to leave you.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me. And counteract the chemistry. And undo the destiny.

Her hand reaches for my shoulder, to stop me from leaving. "That won't work anymore, Natasha. I'm calling Wanda. She offered to help me get an apartment." You spewed out, reaching for the door. It hurt. You no longer called her Natty, the sweet nickname you had gave her when your relationship was in an earlier stage. A simpler stage where you didn't have to question if she wanted to be with you.

You slammed the door behind you, goodbye Natasha.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

[citruslullabies]

Forgive me if this is weird, but I'd kind of like to see some moments of Dogday acting like a dog.

I'll do some minis since they're fast, darling

This is a judgement free zone so it isn't weird!! Also I wanna try something new so let me know if it's good

So for starters, we know Dogday can howl,

But he can also bark

He finds it embarrassing, but only does it if he needs too

The house was peaceful, with soft breathing and light music being the only noise as Dogday was pressed against you while you scratched behind his ears.

He sighed happily, drifting off into his own paradise where it was just you and him. Maybe in a house better than this one, with a garden in the backyard and gloves big enough for his hands to help it. But his mind quickly drew blank with annoyance when yipping and yelping started echoing through the room, opening his eyes and looking down at the causes.

Peanuts yipped at Cubby to play while Cubby growled and snapped her little mouth at him, while Biscuits was trying to play with his planes. She suddenly snatched one of the toy cars in her mouth and went to walk off with it while Peanuts was whimpering loudly, and Biscuits mreowing at him softly and trying to press his little blue plane against Peanut's cheek to cheer him up. Dogday quickly put the commotion to an end, and he... Barked? Fully barked to get them to stop, and it worked. He huffed and snuggled back up with you as you snorted and just continued to scratch him behind the ears before murmuring. "Didn't know you could do that, puppy."

He also likes to mark you

Not in a weird way, but he marks you with his paws and head

Dogs and cats both like to rub scent glands on things that they claim is theirs (that's actually why dogs will kick in the dirt and nuzzle and cats make biscuits)

You let out a long sigh as you sat down in bed after a long day of work, gently undoing a few buttons on your shirt as you plopped down. Dogday came in a few moments later, shutting the door behind him and turning keeping the lights off as to not bother you. "Angel? Is everything alright?" He asked softly. You groaned and nodded. "Just stressed.."

He nodded before sitting down beside you, making the bed creak under his weight but not break. He stared at you for a few minutes, before snuggling with you. However his nose quickly caught the smell of someone else, which was your boss. As unhappy as he was he didn't say anything, since he didn't wanna stir anything. He knew you wouldn't be that type of person.

So he instead, very quietly started to scratch and rub your back with his large hands as he nuzzled his fat head into your neck and face. You snorted and looked over at him. "You trying to give me a massage?" You joked, which caused him to shrug with a hum. "You could say that."

You eventually fell asleep, sound in his arms as he relaxed with a sigh. Smiling as he shut his eyes with his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, since you finally smelled right again. You smelled like his again.

He thinks he's a lapdog.

No, really

This large humanoid dog who is 6× your size thinks he is a lapdog

"Dogday get off-!" You said, struggling to breathe as your overgrown mutt laid down in your lap, after you had only sat down for a minute as the water in the kitchen was boiling. You huffed and continued to try and push but he was just too heavy.

"Dogday, please! I have to go make dinner!" You desperately tried to reason, but he would not budge and instead closed his eyes while pretending to sleep. You groaned and tilted your head back against the couch, huffing and giving up. Before you scratched his head in defeat. "You're an asshole." You huffed, and from the apparently 'sleeping' figure you felt a rumble as a chuckle and saw a small smirk. Jerk.

Thanks for requesting my lovely!