#but ALSO he had to learn about enterprise. so fucking sad for him.

[shkspr]

holy shit. fry didnt know about enterprise

#it didnt premiere until 2001. i always forget this #fry had to come to the future to learn that star trek was outlawed and all that #but ALSO he had to learn about enterprise. so fucking sad for him. #i feel much the same way. i was around in 2001 but i was too young to stop it #futurama #star trek

[girlscience]

I hate finding a fandom that likes to take a slightly emotional character and makes them cry and have panic attacks constantly in every fic. Least favorite fandom trope ever

#leave my man Kirk alone 😭 he's a little sensitive. he's in tune with his feelings. #he's not sobbing every episode or having breakdowns every time something stressful happens in screen #I don't WANT to read about his trauma feelings when as far as I can tell they are Grossly exaggerated in every instance #sure. I will accept he was traumatized by the shit that happened in his childhood #however if he was acting like he is made to in half these fics he quite literally would not be fit for command #ack. this isn't just a kirk thing though #I really have so little patience for visibly or over the top emotional characters to begin with #I know it's my low empathy talking but it's so annoying #shut up!!!! put it away!!!!! I don't want a character sobbing every time someone treats them nice for however many chapters #suck it up and move on!!! get into more interesting shit! #I know people use fanfic as an outlet or therapy or whatever but I wish they would write about more interesting feelings #or find more interesting ways of having characters express them #like idk. give Kirk weird issues around food cause of starving as a kid #give him weird attachment problems that make him over protective but also distant to avoid being sad when they die #make him work extra hard to keep the enterprise safe because it's like the one consistent home he's had #make him relentlessly curious because his education as a kid was inconsistent so he works to learn everything he can now #or like he over compensates for his lack of childhood education. have him perceive failings there where there aren't any or something #make him have lots of issues with dictators #I mean fucks sake even in the episode with the man who killed half the people on the colony he was on as a kid #he kept a level head and was the only one trying to actually work through it logically and didn't immediately jump to trying to kill the guy #unlike the other characters #it just makes zero sense to have him falling apart over essentially nothing all the time #it's just stupid!!!! and annoying!!! and I don't want to read it!!!!

[veryinnovative]

fifty shades of black

~2k words. nsfw. bratty experienced sub james and inexperienced dom regulus. jegulus microfic/snippet based on this post which i do recommend reading for some context so u kinda know what's happening since i have apparently decided to just go unchronological and do whatever the fuck. though, regulus has gotten some more experience at this stage of the fic.

The chime of a bell rings out as James enters the shop, bringing with him a gentle end-of-winter draft and his customary breeze of self-confidence that makes Regulus' skin break out in goosebumps all over. It’s late February, still ways from spring, but the potted flowers lining the shelves swoon at him just the same.

James Potter had that sort of effect.

“Hello, love,” he greets him, donning that dazzling smile like he’s swooped the sun out of the murky evening skies and swallowed it whole. Regulus could endlessly wax poetry about him and his mouth—the color, the plumpness, the self-assured slanted uptilt of his lips. 

But he doesn’t, no. He watches how James approaches the counter like a spoiled cat who’s so sure he’s about to get what he wants. Because James doesn’t learn, or refuses to, at least. Especially if last night was anything to go by. 

“Have you been good, Potter?”

James shakes his head and frowns at the name, the huff he lets out almost indignant as he staggers for breath. His cock is slumped against his stomach, terribly weepy with sad, thin dribbles of cum that are the aftermath of a ruined orgasm. 

“And do bad boys deserve to cum?”

He shakes his head again, furiously blinking through the tears. Over a month ago, Regulus would have caved underneath the crushing weight of guilt. He would have bitten his lip and worked James’ cock up again, a victim to crocodile tears and the angelic drawl of a voice he couldn’t resist. Fortunately, since then, Regulus had developed a significant tolerance and remained impervious to his relentless pleading. All the while maintaining that convincing pretense of stark indifference that had resulted in a whole reversal of roles. Because he had James whining the past couple of scenes, sputtering and cursing threats, fighting against binds, and biting on Regulus at every given opportunity. 

Tonight, James doesn’t fight back, because his cock is spent but still wholly unsatisfied. There’s a glint of fear in his eyes, together with arousal and a glowing spark of pride. 

Regulus yanks him by his curls. “But I let you, and what do we say to that?”

James’ mouth parts around a soundless gasp. “Thank you.”

Regulus quickly dispels the thoughts with a barely noticeable shake of his head. The last thing he needs are the flashing images of James’ sweat-sheened skin and quivering legs, the needy pitch of his voice when Regulus’ hand dragged down his chiseled chest towards—

“It’s rude not to greet customers.”

Blinking his vision back into focus, Regulus glares up at James who is sporting one of his knowing smiles like he can pry into Regulus’ brain and tell that with one look at him, he had been sucked into a vacuum of explicit and very vivid images.

Of course, other than being a multi-billionaire and head of Potter Enterprises, James Potter is also a telepath. Add it to his extensive list of redeeming qualities.

Regulus sighs, pinches his nose bridge, counts to five, and looks down at the register because he doesn’t trust what may come out of his mouth if he stares at James for a moment longer. “What do you want?” On cue, James’ lips part, and before he can answer with something unequivocally witty, Regulus interrupts him, “Other than me. An actual order.”

As expected, James’ mouth falls shut, though the amused smile never really disappears. “A latte, please. Double shot. Pump of caramel.”

The vocal emphasis on pump would have drawn a reaction out of Regulus a month ago, but he has spent enough time to no longer feel bothered by certain commentary. Instead, he casts a quick glance at the clock before jotting down instructions on the paper coffee cup.

“It’s getting late, you’re having a decaf.”

James’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline before he looks at Pandora who is manning the bar. She grins at him, waiting for confirmation, undoubtedly bemused by their interaction and Regulus’ slow growth into a role, and chuckles when James offers a meek nod. “What he said. Decaf.” Pandora quirks an eyebrow and he hastily adds, “Please.”

That was also Regulus’ doing, teaching the spoiled brat to say please. It did him good to see the newly acquired habit extend into other areas of life. 

“You still want a pump of caramel syrup with that?” Pandora asks innocently, not bothering to mask a laugh when James looks at Regulus for permission, again. It’s become somewhat mundane: those brief, fleeting moments where they seamlessly fall into their dynamic. 

Regulus nods and Pandora is off with a hum, letting the ground beans fill her portafilter as she makes a start on his order. James reaches for his wallet but Regulus shakes his head, preventing him from taking it out with a single gesture. “No need. It’s on the house.”

Maybe freebies from a non-coffee chain act as personal affronts, seeing the frown etch itself deeply between James’ brows and the way he petulantly retrieves his hand from his pocket. This, they still need to work on: James’ spending habits and Regulus’ aversion to receiving gifts or anything material, really. Nine days ago he had opened his door to a wreath of expensive, rare flowers imported from various parts of the world and Regulus had given him an earful about it. Still, the harsh reprimands weren’t enough to discourage James’ attempts to shower him with expensive gifts because just two days ago he suggested getting Regulus an unfathomably overpriced watch. Quote on quote suggested as if the stupid box wasn’t peeking at Regulus from where it had been poorly concealed. 

So, James had resorted to acts of service, the expensive kind.

While James is ridiculously rich, Regulus barely scrapes enough together to pay his rent. He is working two jobs at the moment, a fact that irks James greatly for more than just one reason, and luckily none of which involves tarnishing his reputation by having a dom who is terribly broke. That had been one of Regulus’ insecurities, and James had been very quick to dissipate them. 

“So, dinner?” James asks after taking a sip of his coffee, though not without casting Pandora a quick, grateful smile. 

Regulus nods as he undoes the ties of his apron. Officially, he’s still got twenty minutes on the clock, but it’s quiet and Pandora assured him that she could close up alone and that for once, Regulus deserves a night off to himself. 

His encounters with James have been hasty the past couple of days, especially considering his hectic work schedule and demand to cover shifts. And as respectful as James was when it came to Regulus’ decisions, it was very apparent he struggled not sticking to Regulus like adhesive every waking moment. 

“Wait,” comes James’ voice when they finally make it out of the store and towards the car. He rushes past him and reaches for the door. “You need to let me do this, remember?”

“I can open my own door, James,” Regulus sighs.

“And I can order my own coffee,” James retorts. He waits for Regulus to slip into the seat before closing the door and rounding the car to get to the driver’s seat. 

Weeks, and for some reason, Regulus struggled more with the non-sexual side of their dynamic. 

“It’s not only the sex aspect, Regulus,” James had told him the second day after they signed their contract. “It’s about serving and seeing to your needs. Pleasing you in more ways than just one.”

“Isn’t a dom supposed to do that?”

James chuckled but swallowed all humor down when he saw the tight line of Regulus’ pursed lips. “I mean, this isn’t the movies, you know? There are so many more provider subs than there are doms. You’d be surprised, honestly. Most of us have all that we need and are looking to relinquish that control for once. Also the money, I suppose. It feels good getting you gifts.”

“I am not about to be your accountant and track how much you spend on me, James. There’s a limit.”

This time, James fails at stifling his laugh. “No need, I already have someone tracking my funds. But feel free to give me a good spanking if I splurge too much on unnecessary things.”

“Like towing my old car and getting me a new one?”

James shrugs at the memory. The very one Regulus had been livid at him for and Horace had to spend a whole day trying to get back a battered old Toyota. “Spending money on you doesn’t count.”

“And what if I say it does?”

“Then I’ll have to be a good boy and listen.”

And James listened particularly well. Well, at least when he could get something out of it. Because strung-up James who had not been able to get his hands on Regulus properly for any extended period of time, listened very, very poorly considering Regulus had specifically instructed him to drive them to this cozy, small falafel spot that undoubtedly put crack in their garlic sauce seeing how everyone’s pitas always overflowed with it.  

Instead, the car veered off the main road and right on the one that led it to James’ apartment. One of his apartments, at least. The one closest to them.

No complaint from Regulus, truly. In hindsight, he might have confused his appetite for something else entirely. Definitely has, now that his mouth is being eaten by James as he’s clumsily led away from the front door and further down the dimly lit hallway. James’ tie is undoubtedly still in the elevator where Regulus had yanked it off for better access to his chest. 

“You,” James breathes against his lips as he yanks Regulus’ shirt off his head, “have been returning my gifts.”

He’s hoisted up against the wall, practically shoved against it with how a picture frame rattles off and falls onto the floor. Regulus allows his head to loll back with a gentle thud as James’ mouth works down his throat, hot and greedy. 

“I told you—” his words are interrupted by a sharp hiss when James decidedly makes use of his teeth rather than tongue, working marks around his clavicles. “I don’t want expensive gifts.”

There’s a muffled sound of dissent against his neck before James brushes his clothed erection against Regulus’, drawing out moans from the both of them.

“I told you,” James gasps out through his labored breaths, tongue laving across the sharp line that is Regulus’ jaw before coming to tug onto his earlobe, “I want to spoil you. Be good for you.” 

Regulus had chided James for that too, told him he had to learn other ways that could earn him Regulus’ praise. James hadn’t liked that in the least. He didn’t like being told no. Not then, not now. Not ever.

James drives his hips forward again, chasing after the friction and pressure. The hold he has on Regulus’ thighs is bruising in a way that's guaranteed to leave marks.

“Am I being good?” James’ hot breath fans against Regulus’ ear, the skin around it wet from where his mouth had been, slick with spit as James keeps sucking the soft, tender spot below.

“Tell me.” James’ hips jerk where they’re slotted between Regulus’ thighs, uncoordinated now, bordering on frantic, his voice desperate, “Say that I’m being good for you.”

“Be quiet,” Regulus hisses as he bucks his hips, painfully hard against the seams of his jeans and aching for some relief. He's panting as well, trying not to lose himself in the vortex of delirium and instead regain some semblance of control. There's the wall behind his back and James' sturdy chest pressed against his own, the frenzied rattled beating inside his ribcage that Regulus feels against his.

James whines against his neck, still pathetically rutting into him and Regulus shushes him, carding his fingers through the sweaty, tangled curls that stick to the dewy skin of his neck before grabbing a fistful.

“You want to be a good boy?” he whispers into James’ ear.

James frantically nods against his neck and starts grinding against him harder, moaning unabashedly when Regulus meets his movements and tugs onto his hair.

“Then put your mouth to good use.”

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #james x regulus #ino microfic tag! #i cant believe i wrote this right after cursing out my deadline #i fr just write when im stressed and surrounded with exam woe

[therealaves-blog1]

I want the void to see my takes on Star Trek: Coda

They vaporize the site from orbit and the attack stops. Everyone counts their dead and Chen a friend of Taurik morns him but realizes he might have left some knowledge in her brain when they accidentally pseudo melded earlier.

The Aventine arrives with the DTI B team from Watching the Clock while Tom Paris and Belanna Torres back on Earth meet with the head of the DTI and big wig admiral (apparently a prior adventure had them remember Year of Hell, which is cool) so they can give time advice.

Dax and co beam over and everyone interrogates the prisoner whose in some kind of insane transporter prison thing due to being a time ghost. He confirms hes Devidian and is basically puppeting the time ghost body around. They find out theyre trying to kill anyone who can interfere, like Wes, but seem to imply the various god beings are sitting this one out to see how it lands. Wes confirms this as the orgainians, among others he tried to contact are gone. the time ghost mocks him, implying they’ve killed all the other travelers which upsets Wes. They get to admit that the intentional diverging of timelines and subsequent destruction is a stress test for their big idea. The time ghost disconnects and basically dies. But Wes manages to get an idea of where they might be hiding. In sickbay Picard and Beverly worry about whether Rene can be returned to his correct age and list off two separate episodes where that shit happened. Rene is apparently mumbling in his sleep. Wonder if that will become relevant later.

Wes, Picard, Chen, the DTI, and others hop on over to the Aventine where the more cool and based ship’s better tech can be used to time travel. Which they then do to that planet Picard and Wes saw, but this time to some few thousand years in their relative future. Whole section has a vibe of ‘Picard’s in charge here’ which sucks cause this is Dax’s ship and crew. Show some damn respect old man. Planets lit up with time bullshit and they go down in a shuttle finding some crystal bullshit. They go inside and its like a hub for access to different timelines and shit and is one of many installations networked together. Theyre attacked and start trying to hold them off while Wes does space magic to connect to it.

The Aventine is also attacked but because they are better than the Enterprise they hold them off more effectively. Theres a breach and attacks continue but they buy enough time to let engineering do a energy wave that kills everything. on the surface a ton of people die before another ghost shows up and is talking mad shit before it gets 86d by the security detail. Chen is injured and starts old aging, one of the DTI and most of the security team are killed before Wes finishes and they get beamed back up.

We skip ahead to their return to the Enterprise to learn that the end of the chapter where Dax was under attack? that oh yeah that was her fucking dying. We learn this from her sad second in command (now acting Captain) Sam Bowers, as he talks with Picard about how sad it is that Dax is dead. Host and worm.

BOOOOOOOOO, fuck this, how dare. Ezri deserved better, cant believe they’re just trash canning her before she even got to talk HER GOOD FRIEND WORF OR CAPTAIN SISKO OR KIRA. OR EVEN FUCKEN BASHIR. HOW DARE SIR HOW DARE. 

I’m okay, im normal about Star Trek and can be trusted with material. Worf has another weird dream about fighting in the Ent D with the time ghosts and watching a security officer die. Hes weirded out but feels its important somehow and opts to discover it on his own. Its clearly Riker’s D that got got (teehee). Worf you have been through so much cosmic bullshit, I feel like not bringing this up straight away is a failure on your part. Your cool commanding officer (Sisko) straight up had religious visions and you were happy to engage with them. Now is not the time to revert to pre DS9 neuroses Worf.

Wes goes over the data and is like ‘Good news, we know what they’re up to. Bad news, oh fucking shit fucking good god no.’ So they’ve built a ton of those hubs across time space and different realities time and space. and they use them to funnel energy back to the main nucleus thing. They started with going into busted up timelines that were already near their end and triggering natural decay but this has expanded to higher and higher branch points along the timelines. with places that have natural time anomalies being inherently less stable. Wes muses whether this means that their branch can even be saved or if he’s done this many times on lower branches and this is just the furthest any version has gotten. Everyone is bummed out and they head for Earth to meet up with ol Bill Riker. End of book.

WORF DOESNT EVEN GET A REACTION TO EZRI’S DEATH. THAT IS BOTH HIS CLOSE FRIEND AND THE CONTAINER OF HIS LATE WIFE MEMORIES. HOW IS THERE NOT LIKE EVEN A MOMENT FOR HIM TO MOURN AND RAGE. BOOO. BOOO I SAY. BAD DEATH. EZRI DESERVED BETTER.

Next time, book 2, which opens with Sisko so Im already back in.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

[fullmusicbardsquared]

tell me about the cool robot

yay data time yay!!

okay so um in star trek world as opposed to star wars world, robots aren't really a common thing there's just like. probes and computers and stuff. which is why Data aka the specialest little boy in the universe is such a big deal :]. so there was this old robotist guy named Soong who dedicated his entire life to creating a sentient android. he fucked up with his first creation, Data's brother Lore, because even though Lore had emotions he decided he was better than humans and had a meaniehead moment. so Lore got deactivated. THEN Soong made Data, but because he was an old human guy, he died and left Data all alone on an empty space station.. eventually some Starfleet guys found him and were like "woah what is this guy and why can he talk" and Data was like ":0 Starfleet seems incredibly interesting and a chance to learn about Humanity!" so he joins Starfleet and becomes a lieutenant and gets assigned to the Enterprise, that's the big boy ship :]

Data is explicitly compared to Pinocchio in the first episode which should tell you some things.. he wants very very badly to be human and to experience all the emotions and connections that they do even though there are episodes that. show he has feelings. but whatever. i wouldn't say he is naive or anything, he just doesn't always immediately get what other characters are joking about? he's probably one of the og "accidentally made the robot nd" characters. he's very curious and inquisitive about a lot of human stuff which occasionally results in shenanigans <3 especially if Geordi (his best friend) is involved because. Geordi feels similarly isolated from normal society. agh. also they like to go to the holodeck which is like a magical self insert thing and act out sherlock holmes books because they are NERDS!!!

^ them LARPing

unfortunately the star trek writers are dumb which means that a) they keep reusing the same plot for most Data episodes b) they keep trying to hook him up with girls.

the plot they end up doing is "someone arrives and thinks Data isn't dEsErViNg Of RiGhTs" and then he has to suffer through them dehumanizing him for half the episode. this was especially bad in season 2 where there was a doctor named Pulaski who pronounced his name wrong even after he corrected her and repeatedly says he's no better than a calculator. i hate that lady. the only good episode that uses this plot is "the most toys" because a) the person doing this kidnapped him and is overall a huge **** b) Data tries to kill him at the end of it and then lies about doing so <3

some other good Data episodes besides that and the holodeck one are the one where Lore gets found and starts roleplaying Cain and Abel with Data, who is confused and sad & the one where Data creates a child named Lal, who was adorable and precious and she did not deserve to die >:(

when it comes to other members of the crew who aren't Geordi his relationship to them hasn't been very explored? but i see him as chums with Worf. ok i can't think of anything else i just love him so much. here's more data images.

(guy in yellow robes is Lore)

#asks #allaygirl2021 #star trek #data soong #geordi la forge #long post

[griffnoir]

i had this idea for a fic that i just wanted to share bc i thought it was neat and i know i will never write it under the cut : regulus black and severus snape, young and not that desperate, team up to defeat voldemort (for better and for worse)

- we are in 79. regulus goes to retrieve the locket, happy to die a sad and heroic death BUT kreacher brings him back to grimmauld place against his orders. he is dying... because of a potion... kreacher knows someone who knows shit about potions... regulus lives au! severus gets kidnapped by a nasty house-elf :/ he def had better sundays but that’s fine: he helps his fellow death-eater bc it’s what one does (everything for the cause!)

- regulus heals. regulus isn’t so happy about it (one cannot even kill oneself in this economy) then the conversation goes: reg : hey do u wanna know something that will get u killed? sev : no. reg : so the dark lord has made this thing called an horcrux... :D sev : T.T fuck why would u say that to me

- severus had doubts(tm) about this death-eater thing. this is the tipping point. so they are here, 18 and 19, one braincell between them, deciding after multiple identity crisis that they will kill the dark lord or die trying (they have better faith in the dying part but that’s ok they have nothing to lose) - they both know too much so this is a sort of race against time reg : i guess we could go to dumbledore sev : lol we are not THAT desperate

- they don’t go to dumbledore ://

- it is very important to me that they can’t fucking stand each other on the best of days. like: severus is severus, the little rat(affectionate) but i always thought of regulus as a mix between sirius and draco, plus whatever u want (this is not a good mix). the guy is pampered, rich, posh and a bloody nuisance of a person (also a dedicated blood supremacist); severus isn’t a Black so for once in his life he is actually the well-adjusted one - this doesn’t augure well for their enterprise

- do they succeed? yes. how? dumb luck. also they have a “they didn’t know it was impossible so they did it” type of thing going on. regulus’ superpower is the fact that he is rich, has connections and that nobody suspects him of anything. severus’ one is pure spite and the hogging of the braincell; they both think they are the brain behind this operation and that they are superior to the other in the ways that count (actually they are both just clowns)

- one of the only thing they share is the ultimate goal of killing voldemort; also, they both have somebody on the other side they don’t want ending up dead, so there is that; moreover they are both stressed out of their minds (the self-medication is strong and it could become a problem)

- they have to juggle their public life, their death-eater life and their hunting horcruxes life. it gets complicated :(

- grey-ish moral decisions are made, but hey! one has to do what one has to do

- how do they find the horcruxes? perhaps with the help of dark magic? through inside knowledge? a bit of both? regulus could know where is the diary/ the cup; if u know what u are looking for, nagini is an obvious answer; the ring can be found with minimal research on tom riddle; the diadem can be a lucky find (one could call it an educated guess lol)

- regulus learns that he can actually stand up for himself without his family weighing in and that his whole worldview is in fact a giant with feet of clay. severus that he can lead his life without idly surfing on the consequences of his bad decisions and can change things for the better by acting on them. that’s great. they are doing great. they are fucking terrified for their lifes.

- they end up begrudgingly respecting each other. are they friends? loaded question. perhaps.

- in this au, severus does also report the prophecy to the dark lord, then panics when the potters are brought up. sev and reg pass the information to the order one way or another and this just speeds up their research

- they kill nagini on the sly: it’s a shitshow of epic proportion, but they get away with it bc uh... who would think them able of such a feat? it’s def an highly-trained task force or something. sad that the snake got in the way though :/ (there is no more horcrux, the dark lord is mortal once more)

- who kills voldemort? neither of them. it would be cool, but no. the obvious choice would rather be dumbledore, and why not, in an impressive duel for the ages. personally i would prefer someone from the order, why not one of the youngsters: sirius? remus (a fucking win for the werewolves if it’s the case)? if we are only in 80, why not a peter who has not yet turned traitor lmao? if it’s one of them it’s just totally anti-climatic

- hell yeah! voldemort is trully, trully dead! the one who killed him is hailed as an hero and everybody lived happily ever after! severus and regulus will never have to speak to each other again!

- no.

- the hunt for the death-eaters begins: names are being dropped left and right. regulus doesn’t even go to trial bc he throws money at his problems; severus is not so lucky and gets rounded up in the most stupid way possible, also he thinks he deserves azkaban bc he did some shady shit and likes the martyr vibes reg, who has outgrown his suicidal tendencies: shit i need to save this punk’s ass since he won’t do it himself

- are regulus and his money enough to exonerate severus? perhaps. living with the morale high ground of having brought down the dark lord could be enough to rebuild a decent life for themselves; would they have closure? in a bittersweet way they could

- if it’s not enough, regulus being THAT desperate, he would go to the biggest bully of the playground aka dumbledore. a dumbledore ready to believe that voldemort would be coming back, until this scrawny (almost) 20 years-old goes “nah, we took care of that for you, you are welcome! also, since the whole wizarding world has a debt for us or something, could u pls bail my colleague? friend? out that would be great” albus : ... what?

- i just want a fun reveal; in the future to have regulus talking to his brother, severus to lily (at least for one good talk, i don’t ask for much), just to have that closure pls :’(

- 10 years later or something rita skeeter digs up the whole convulated story it’s glorious. nobody wants that

i don’t have anything else but it was fun to think about

#harry potter #hp #severus snape #regulus black #pro snape #fic idea #we are july 31 it's time to share the hp #u defeated voldemort? what like it's hard?

[sfb123]

Roses are Red

Book: The Nanny Affair

Pairing: Sam Dalton x Anna Schuyler/Mason & Mickey and Anna Schuyler (friendship)

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Rating: PG (pure fluff, but it’s Sam, so he makes some allusions to things)

Word Count: 1,161

Notes: I wanted to make a Valentine’s fic. You’d think, with my writing history, I would have written something in the Royal Romance world, but the only inspiration that came to me was this Nanny Affair fluff. I know it’s also weird that it’s fluff and not smut, but fuck it, who am I to conform to expectations? It’s not much, just a little idea that popped into my head last night.

Tags: Got them below! Since my main tag list is for TRR stuff, I’m only tagging my TNA fam (if I missed you, I love you and I’m sorry I’m the worst 😘). If you’d like to be added to any future TNA fics I may (or may not) write, just let me know!

As Anna approached Mason & Mickey’s bedroom door she noticed a sign taped to it ‘Do Not Enter’. She was afraid of what experiments might be waiting for her on the other side, but their grandparents would be by shortly to pick them up for their sleepover, so she was going to need to overlook the prominently displayed new rule. She knocked on the door, and was quickly greeted by Mickey’s head, he made sure to keep the door closed enough that Anna couldn’t see in.

“Hi Anna, what’s up?”

“What are the two of you doing in there?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Nothing, we’re just working on a...project. Yea, a project.”

The uncertainty in his voice did little to squash the uneasy feeling Anna had. “You know your grandparents are going to be here soon. Did you finish packing your overnight bags?” She tried to peek past Mickey to catch a glimpse of what was happening, with no luck.

“Oh...um, no. We didn’t do it yet, we’ve been really busy with our project.”

“Alright, enough games. Mickey, you need to let me in here to see what you boys are up to.”

“No, not yet we’re almost -“

“It’s ok Mickey, I finished. She can come in!” Mason interrupted his brother from the other side of the door.

Mickey opened the door and stepped aside so Anna could enter. As soon as she crossed the threshold she was greeted by an assault of glitter and construction paper littered all around the room. “Boys, what is all of this? This is one of your messiest experiments yet.”

Anna had known the boys for just about a year, when she came into their lives, she was their nanny. In the months to follow, she entered a whirlwind affair and subsequent romance with their father, Sam Dalton. It had been 6 months since Sam left Sofia at the altar and rushed, with the boys, to the airport to stop her from disappearing from their lives forever. They had been a family ever since. While Anna wasn’t on the payroll anymore, it didn’t seem appropriate once she officially became Sam’s girlfriend, she still took care of the boys just the way she had before. Before Anna had met the twins, she didn’t have much experience with kids. She figured working for the CMO of Dalton Enterprises, in any capacity, would be a foot in the door to her career as a chemist. Then she met Mason and Mickey, and she was so taken by their excitement and enthusiasm to learn and experiment, and she knew that was exactly where she needed to be.

“It’s not an experiment Anna, it’s for you!” Mason took her hand and guided her to the table on the other side of the room, motioning for her to sit. “Ok, now close your eyes”

Anna did as she was instructed and put her hands over her eyes. She could hear some shuffling around, and shook her head, picturing Mickey and Mason shoving each other around trying to get in place.

“Ok, open them!” The twins said in unison.

Anna opened her eyes to see the boys holding up a large piece of red paper covered in glitter and lace and hearts. “What’s all this?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” They handed the card to Anna.

She red the card:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

We’re glad our dad loves you

Because we love you too

“Boys. You did this for me?” Anna looked up at them with a bright smile that the boys matched as they nodded their heads. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes we did.” Mason said matter of factly. “Dad says that on Valentine’s Day, you’re supposed to show the special people in your life how important they are to you. Besides dad, you’re the most special person we have.”

Anna’s eyes began to well, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“We’re sorry Anna, we didn’t mean to make you sad! This was supposed to make you happy!” Mickey was very concerned, and couldn’t understand how their plan could have backfired so spectacularly.

“Yea, if you’re upset about the mess, I promise we will clean it up all by ourselves. You don’t have to do any of it!” Mason added.

Anna laughed as she shook her head and wiped away another tear. “No boys, these are happy tears. I’m so honored that you would work so hard on this just for me. I love you both so much.” She held her arms open and the boys ran straight for her, engulfing her in a hug.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to up my Valentine’s Day game if I’m going to compete with all of this.” The three of them turned their heads to the doorway and saw Sam leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“I don’t know, I’ve already got two guys that want to be my valentine, I might not have room for a third.” She smirked as she rose from her seat and walked toward Sam.

“I’m sure I can convince you.” He put his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a quick kiss before leaning in to whisper in her ear. “After what I plan to do to you tonight, I have a feeling I’ll be able to convince you that the sky is green.”

The warmth of his breath mixed with the feeling of his lips brushing against her ear sent a tingle down Anna’s spine. Sam could tell, and had a sly grin on his face as he pulled back. Winking at her before turning his attention to Mason and Mickey. “Boys, your grandparents just got here. Why don’t you go keep them company while Anna and I get your things together?”

“Sure, dad!” The boys ran out into the living room, leaving Sam and Anna alone.

“You pack for Mason, I’ll get Mickey.” Sam kissed her again and led her into the twin’s room. “Let’s get them out of here so I can finally have you all to myself.”

“We’re going to have to clean up all of this first.” She gestured to the glittery mess that covered the space.

“Says who? The boys can clean all this up when they get home tomorrow.” Sam pulled her close and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to delay our Valentine’s date a moment longer than I have to.”

“You know, the boys set the bar pretty high with that card.” Anna raised one eyebrow.

“Oh I know, I saw the whole thing. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can rise to the challenge.” He replied with a wink.

She laughed, slapping his chest playfully. “Alright Dalton, enough of that, let’s get the boys packed and out of here.”

They separated and continued to pack for the twin’s overnight trip, so that they could spend the first of many Valentine’s Days together.

Tags: @txemrn @pixie88 @khoicesbyk @aussieez @shewillreadyou @fanjessfic @secretaryunpaid @thefrenchiemama @lucy-268 @shannonwrote

#pixelberry #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices the nanny affair #the nanny affair #tna sam #choices sam dalton #sam dalton x mc #sam dalton

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done. 

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask. 

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode. 

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

3.

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback. 

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight. 

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done. 

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense. 

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart. 

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this. 

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath. 

#titans #titans spoilers #dick grayson #hank hall #dawn granger #garfield logan #conner kent #jason todd #a tragic jalebi #meta

[min-youngis]

Are You Allowed To Tell God To Suck It?

gif not mine

~ Pairing : Kim Namjoon x Reader (Human x Angel)

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour-ish

~ Rating : PG-13

~ Summary/Excerpt : “I’m not leaving anytime soon,” you whisper, making sure he understands every single word, hears the sincerity in your voice, realises that you wouldn’t just send God a massive fuck you and give yourself a new name (that you found in one of the books in this very library, actually) on a whim.

Established Relationship

~ Word Count : 1,938

~ Warnings : passing mentions of insecurity and g*d and r×lig×on, some philosophical waxing about how fucking sad we all are but nothing too serious

~ A/N : this ... idk what it is. love the concept tho. would like to expand on it eventually. for now, here, be a badass angel that loves human joon. gives me a vague good omens kinda vibe.

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

‘Hey, uh, God? Yeah, this is Angel Number 7625H. Remember me? The one you didn’t allow back in for falling in love with the human I was supposed to reform? Well, I’m just sending this to say suck it and that I don’t want to come back anyway. While we’re at it, I'll be needing my stuff, so if you could have them tossed down whenever you’re free, that'd be great. I’m sure you know where I live, with your omniscience and all. Thanks and regards!

P.S. : I go by Y/N now. I like it better than a serial number.’

“Are you allowed to tell God to suck it?”

With a grin, you lick the stamp and slap it on the envelope addressed to ‘Up There'. “Well, first of all, it really is a toss-up between which form God ends up being in when they receive the letter.”

Namjoon gets that light in his eyes as he leans forward in his large, mahogany armchair, that brightness and eagerness that you’ve seen in children who get too excited, right before they pee in their pants. “Tell me about their forms.”

You indulge him. You always do. None of your other subjects were this intrigued or this intriguing. But then, none of your other subjects were Kim Namjoon.

“They constantly shift. One moment as Shakti, another as Jehovah. There are millions, if not billions of shapes.”

“Have you ever seen them? God, I mean?”

No, you had not. But no harm in hyping yourself up.

“Once,” you say, gravitas in your voice as you drop the sealed envelope on the table. “Accidentally transported myself too far to the left after one of my missions and ended up in the inner quarters.”

Satisfyingly awed, Namjoon asks, now at the edge of his seat, “What form were they in?”

“Couldn’t tell,” you shrug, leaning back in your chair, arms comfortably slung on the rests.

He seems satisfied with the evasive answer. It only serves to make him think more.

It’s like this. Eight months ago, you were sent down on a routine mission. There is a person who is an asshole, make him not-an-asshole. Except, well, the asshole wasn’t really that much of an asshole. Just...kinda sad and maybe an unhealthily high blood pressure. Bit of an entitled dick, but not unkind. He wasn’t one of those intrinsically distant people. Just circumstantially. But you had a job and you were going to do it, goddammit.

So in your barista disguise, you had begun your reformation of one, 28 year old, Kim Namjoon, big shot CEO of Kim Enterprises. Ivy League graduate, trust fund baby, featured in Forbes' Richest Under 30. Cold to people who don’t know him, lukewarm to people who do.

The instant you saw him on the first morning on the job, not looking up at you as he placed his order in a high, cold drawl, eyes focused on the phone in his hand, bluetooth headset on, complete with an expensive wristwatch and a black briefcase, you knew the problem. Angels have that kind of power.

He was entirely too repressed. Humans were not made to lock things up, to be reserved with shields as high as the sky extending ten feet in every direction.

So you slowly began to get under his skin. A little by little, making him let out everything he had kept sealed in short bursts, like a pressure cooker with a defective weight. Few times a week, you’d purposely mess up his order, adding some extra sugar or taking it easy on the caffeine. Once a month or so, you’d nudge the paper cup while handing it to him over the counter so the coffee would spill on his fingers. When you weren’t messing up his morning for him, you’d slink out of the shop, following him to his office, hit the elevator buttons on every floor so it would take longer to reach him or dress up as an employee and purposely bump into him in the corridors. And obviously, you weren’t scared of getting caught.

If there’s one thing you’ve learnt in your career as a Reformation Angel, it’s that humans are shockingly unobservant. But then again, you hadn’t encountered a human like Kim Namjoon before.

You hadn’t been bothered about him figuring out what you were, realising that he was being deliberately poked and prodded so that those tight shoulders of his could finally begin to droop once in a while.

And for the first four months, everything seemed to be going according to plan. He had scowled a bit, shouted some, ranted at a closed lift door. But more importantly, and as more of an upside, you had also caught him smiling at his phone once, some lovely dimples appearing, and when you were mixing up his schedule after convincing his assistant to take a break, you had seen that he had even marked a weekend as Vacation – talk to Yoongi.

But then, small problems began to crop up. For one, he started to spend more time around the coffee shop. Which you were glad about, at first, because it signified that he was slowing down, but it made you antsy because you kept catching him staring at you with a shrewd look on his face. He'd look away immediately, but you still knew.

For another, he stopped spending so much time inside his office, often taking to walking around, looking for something, for somebody. It hadn’t bothered you much. In fact, it only served as an opportunity for you to sneak in and jumble the papers on his desk. But the more time passed, the more convinced you became that he was looking for you.

And then was the slightly worrying issue of how you began to take more than a purely angelic interest in him. Of course, you never recorded in your observations how your immortal heart would beat a tiny bit faster when he began to actually thank you after receiving his coffee, dimples popping in a small smile. Or how occasionally, you’d maybe spend a little more time everyday on the job, under the guise of ‘finishing ahead of schedule' just to be around him.

But you were an expert, so all those feelings were, ironically enough, locked up and compartmentalised, ready to be purged when you finally went back up after completing this job.

Until everything finally came to a head. You had been on your way to his office building, walking rapidly, winding in between the crowds so you could reach in time to mess up some of his cue cards before his meeting, when you were brought to an abrupt halt by the man himself, standing at the corner of the office, waiting, it seemed for you.

He had a gleam of new-found knowledge in his eyes, a just-elapsed eureka moment, and with a sinking heart, you had noticed a thick, leather-bound book in his hands.

Angels and Their Types : Do They Still Exist Today?

And now, here you are, leaning back on your own, cushioned armchair in Namjoon's large, crowded library, letter telling God that you’re officially retiring, whether they like it or not, as the dim, yellow lights indicate the lateness of the hour, tall bookshelves casting shadows on the little nook you’re both sat in.

“How are we going to send it?”

“I’ll be needing pepper, some chalk and nine lavender scented candles. Also a wooden floor.”

“What’s the pepper for?” he asks, once again excited at the prospect of knowledge.

“Garnish.”

His eyes narrow and he lets out a small huff, leaning back on his chair with a pout when he realises that you’re messing with him.

With a giggle, you rise from your seated position, rounding the coffee table and making your way towards him, bottoms of your feet sinking into the soft carpeting as you pad over.

“We have people in postal services everywhere,” you say soothingly as you perch yourself on the arm of his chair, body tilted towards him, legs languidly crossed and nudging against the side of his.

He forgets his petulance at this thrilling, new titbit of information, this glean into a world that he recently discovered and has been greedily learning about from you. “Are they angels as well? Do they have humans to reform? Can they travel to heaven whenever they want?”

In his rush, he tilts forward excitedly, arm coming up to steady you around your waist as he apologetically winces when he nearly knocks you off with his enthusiasm.

Give him a chance to gain some knowledge, and he really does become a child. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, so many possibilities waiting to come to a standstill at your response.

His wide eyes look up at you, waiting eagerly for your answer. You give him as stern a look as you can muster, despite the fondness in your eyes that you can’t quite mask as you reply, “Yes, they’re angels as well. Only some of them are Reformation Angels, we're rather rare, you see. And I don’t know why you'd ask the last question, even I can go up whenever I want to.”

“Didn’t they ban you last week?” he cheekily asks, eyes mirthful, words softened by his fingers gently dancing along the curve of your hip.

Frowning, you reply, “Okay, in theory I can go up whenever I want.”

“Do you think you’ll want to?”

You can see his shields slowly coming up, the carefreeness of the last hour being masked by that façade you had worked so had to ensure would make an appearance only in important board meetings. But you’re an angel. Even if he weren’t the reason you’re giving up an eternity in heaven, condemning yourself to staying in the middle place, you’d be able to tell what he’s feeling.

Humans are so very fickle. So insecure and scared and constantly preparing for everybody to leave.

You turn fully sideways so you’re facing him, looking down at his face as you tilt his chin up with a finger, forcing him to make eye contact with you. His palm, now at the small of your back, feels cold, only lightly resting, like he’s steeling himself to let you go. On his knee that you aren’t half sitting on, his fingers twitch nervously.

“I’m not leaving anytime soon,” you whisper, making sure he understands every single word, hears the sincerity in your voice, realises that you wouldn’t just send God a massive fuck you and give yourself a new name (that you found in one of the books in this very library, actually) on a whim.

His gaze that was hovering somewhere near your left ear snaps to your own as he regards you for a bit, indecision and childish hope swimming behind his cool, unbothered exterior. A few seconds later, he gives you a small, accepting nod. His only indication of pleasure is the subtle flex of his fingers as they rest more solidly on your back, nudging you close so he can burrow his head in the folds of your billowy dress.

You soothingly card a hand through his hair, acknowledging everything he isn’t saying. The seal on the letter glints in the light, catching your eye, vaguely shocking you as you realise that you’re about to sign yourself up for eternal damnation.

But the years have been long, and not entirely kind, and you have a reason to say goodbye. You’ve met hundreds of humans in your lifetime. But none of them have been Kim Namjoon.

~

#bts #ultkpop #btsguild #ficswithluv #thekpopnetwork #kwritersworldnet #btswritingcafe #namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #rap monster #joon #kpop #fluff #kpop imagine #bts imagine #namjoon imagine #kpop fluff #bts fluff #namjoon fluff #kpop scenario #bts scenario #namjoon scenario #kpop fic #bts fic #namjoon fic #bts run #yoongi #angel au #bangtan

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

God of War (PS4) Review: Kratos’ Postal Grief Beard Versus Norse Mythology

Once upon a time, a man was born by the name of Cory Barlog and thus a coin was flipped. Would he become a videogame developer or would he take up guarding the Mines of Moria by pulling wizards into a precipice? Those really are the only two options with a name like Barlog. Anyway, apparently the Mines of Moria were a bit of a commute, so the world gained a talented Auteur developer with a unique vision for a game series about going postal in ancient Greece. Fast-foward a number of years specifically calculated to make you feel old and ancient Greece is a distant memory. Norse mythology is where all the cool kids hang out nowadays, and that’s where we’re going in today’s review.

As you might have guessed, I’ve just finished playing God of War (PS4), which is fun to say because it rhymes. It’s a very good game that should be a very bad game. When considering modern media artefacts, I’m often prompted to ask the question ‘what went so wrong?’, but this may be the first time I’ve had to ask the question ‘what went so right?’.

Let me explain: God of War 4 (I don’t care that they don’t put the number on the box art, that’s what it fucking is) makes a single, monumentally stupid creative decision that should ruin the entire enterprise, but doesn’t. And that creative decision was- wait for it- a stab at maturity.

The last time we saw Kratos- the world’s angriest mythical being- he was finishing his battle with the Greek gods in God of War 3. There was a moment in that game which, to me, typified what was so great about the series. If I recall the sequence of events correctly, you kill your way through an ocean of expendable goons and critters who are just trying to defend their home on Mount Olympus, dripping with blood and screaming furiously, then wander into the bedroom of one of ancient Greece’s sauciest goddesses and play a sex minigame that you win by fucking her so well that her handmaids orgasm too. Then you toddle outside again and, head cleared, solve an incredibly complex and cerebral puzzle involving non-Euclidean geometry and perspective manipulation that takes bloody ages. That, in a nutshell, was the core identity of the original God of War: a gleefully unrestrained and immature approach to sex and violence coupled with a grouchy willingness to make unsuspecting players feel like fucking idiots for no reason whatsoever. It was awesome. In contrast, God of War 4 picks up many, many years later with Kratos hiding out in Midgard of the Norse mythos and, for once, he hasn’t got a nark on and he’s not trying to stick his cock in someone with cartoonishly huge knockers. He’s just sad because his missus has passed away, leaving him and their young, impressionable son alone in a big, scary world full of trolls and ginger psychopaths. ‘Sad’ isn’t a completely new emotion for Kratos, but, up until this point, he was usually sad in a way that resulted in five hundred people getting their spines broken in a very colourful manner. Now he just wants to cremate the remains of the woman he loved and carry her ashes to the tallest peak in the nine realms so he can scatter her in accordance with her final wishes. And that’s what he does, with son- Atreus- in tow. It’s a twenty-plus hour game in which the objective is very simply to honour someone’s preferred funeral rites- nothing more, nothing less. It’s very modest by Kratos usual standards. Remember that his stated goal in the previous game was to punch freakin’ Zeus so hard that his face would go all concave and then repeatedly stamp on his corpse.

We never actually find out much about what Kratos was up to between games or how he met his wife. However, he’s a bit thiccer than in previous instalments and seems to have lost the use of the ‘jump’ button outside of context-sensitive environments. On that evidence, I choose to believe he’s been running a small but successful family restaurant called ‘Kratos’ Potatoes’ and enjoying it all a bit much. And why not? He beat up Zeus- if he just wants to create and sample homely yet exotic Greco-Norse fusion cuisine while growing a ridiculous straggly dad-beard, I say let him crack on. Actually, is it a ‘dad beard’ or is it a ‘grief beard’? I think they send them to videogame characters in the post whenever a loved one dies so they can signal to the world how sad they are through the medium of angsty facial hair. But where was? Oh yeah: cracking on with it.

Y’see this is where the plot comes in: the Norse gods won’t let Kratos crack on. They’re determined to make him bow before Odin- especially Baldur, who is way too invested in having a fight with Kratos for reasons that won’t become apparent until very late in the game. They just keep turning up and trying to break Kratos and his increasingly like-him-but-not-as-good-at-it son Atreus. This time around, our heroes commit heinous acts of violence to defend themselves, not enact revenge, as they travel, inexorably, to the top of a lonely mountain through landscapes of stunning natural beauty and many, many hostile creatures.

Of course, Kratos taking his son on a hiking holiday with added troll-murder and the occasional slap-fight with Norse mythology’s biggest killjoys doesn’t sound as interesting as the original games. After all, those were basically a production of Kill Bill in which the part of Bill was played by a guy with the power to summon lightning bolts and access to a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters and demigods. The ‘fun factor’ even seems to have taken another downgrade, in that Kratos no longer operates with the entertainingly demented passion of the insane: he has been tempered by time and love and managed to turn himself into a paragon of serious self control. So why is God of War 4 so bloody good? Partly, I suspect, the answer lies in the constantly evolving relationship between Kratos and Atreus, which gives the story an unbelievable amount of heart and always manages to feel very organic. Kratos never learned how to be a parent, and we essentially watch him do it in real time, forming a bond with his son that seems impossible at the start of the game and inevitable by the end. Partly, the games greatness lies in the characters you meet along the way, who range from bickering dwarves to talking, decapitated heads who prattle on like laid-back tour-guides. Partly, it’s in the beautiful, epic landscapes that make the journey across the Realms to the highest peak feel epic and significant, even while it is small and personal.

But a videogame is nothing without gameplay, and it is here that God of War 4 really shines. I loved the original God of War trilogy (especially the third instalment), but I rarely felt like I was playing as, y’know, a god of war. Kratos might not be an uncontrollable whirlwind of fury any more, but he feels truly powerful for the first time in the ongoing series. In fights, every punch feels like it could crack stone; every axe-throw like it could rend the sky; every chain-whip like it could legitimately start a forest-fire. Out of combat, Kratos moves around the environment with the stolid grace of a man who knows his movements are inevitable; irresistible; an imposition on the environment that can’t be denied. You climb and complete elaborate, complex traversals knowing that the satisfaction you feel isn’t just the satisfaction of finding the correct route or solving an obstacle, but the satisfaction of a being forcing his way through a landscape that resists him at every turn but cannot stop him. The puzzles- of which there are many- strike the perfect balance between conceptual trickiness and ease of execution to remind you that Kratos is smart as well as determined; that his mind is as indomitable as his body. Then there are the little touches involving heaving huge stone pillars and similar unnecessarily over-the-top efforts. In short, the gameplay is interwoven with who Kratos is- with what he is in way that seems completely unprecedented. Even the RPG elements feel  appropriate: they reflect the protagonist’s growing confidence in a skillet he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

Do I miss the uniquely juvenile, over the top identity of the old games? Absolutely: I’m a great fan of gratuitous gore and scantily clad women with big fuck-off swords. Usually, I find the desire for maturity in games to be a silly, pretentious trend that foolishly eschews anything obviously ‘fun’ for no reason other than courting the respect of people whose respect isn’t worth having. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here- at least, not entirely. The developers of the God of War games are clearly artisans and craftsmen of extreme talent: their attention to detail is superb and their ability to weave a good tale from a simple premise is actually a little daunting for someone who considers himself a bloody good story-teller. It’s worth remembering that the de facto head of the studio, Barlog, became a father himself before commencing work on this game about a father learning to bond with his son. It feels personal and meant because it is. Other games might reach for superficially mature themes like family and redemption for altogether cynical reasons. God of War 4 does it because such thoughts are clearly much on the developer’s mind. I asked already ‘Do I miss the identity of the old games?’ and the answer is still yes. But that question deserves a follow-up: am I willing to embrace the identity of this new, quieter God of War anyway? And yes, yes I am.

But if we could have a few more women with enormous knockers and Kratos going properly batshit just once or twice in the next sequel, that would also be welcome. I mean, let’s try to strike a balance here, people, for pity’s sake.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #God of War #God of War 4 #god of war sequel #Kratos #Zeus #norse mythology #greek mythology #videogames #game review #games

[jaywritessmut]

Weiß Chapter I- Business & Pleasure

*Weiß- White in German

Florian Munteanu x black female reader (All my fics are with black women in mind!)

Warnings: mentions of death & drug use, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!)

Authors note: Sorry this took so long yall! I moved to a completely new state and that came with its own challenges and adjustments. Things have calmed down since but I’m about to start job hunting and house hunting which is exciting but also stressful AF! Pray for me! I apologize for any mistakes!

Word Count: 4.3K

Something about the smell of a hookah lounge drove her wild. The subtle sweetness in the air had always brought her peace, sometimes a bit of arousal. She found it much more tolerable than plain old cigarettes. But then again, cigarettes didn’t come in flavors like Blue Mist or Double Apple. She scanned the drink menu, impressed with the newer selections listed. Of course there were the outrageous names to contend with. Oil Spill? Typical Klaus she pondered. He’d always had an eye for the dramatic and it was one of the things she loved about him. How sad it was that she’d never hear one of his energetic, albeit coke fueled, rants again. She decided to pay homage to her eccentric companion and order one for old times sake. Her usual order of Jäger would have to wait.

The server took her order, fumbling over his pen as he scribbled it down. He was intimidated by her. She radiated authority and confidence. He had no idea who she was  but the level of service she was receiving let him know that she was definitely a VIP. Making a mistake could cost him his job.

He must be new. She smirked at the thought. How cute.

Most everyone here knew who she was. Her table had been closed off and ready for her with her usual selection. Sex on the beach with a deeper freezer hose. They even made sure to put it in a mango just how she liked it. As soon as she stepped her Manholo clad foot out of her pearl white BMW, she’d been escorted into the club. Tamir gave her a salacious grin while he watched her strut into the building. Yeah, he was still hoping for a piece of that. The line of impatient party goers stared on in envy as she was given preferential treatment. But she was the boss. And bosses waited for no one.

She thought about letting loose tonight. Lord knows she needed it. But tonight was all about business. She needed to think. And surprisingly she was able to do just that as the bass from the clubs stereos shook the room. They had a deal, she and Klaus. She provided the money and kept an eye on the financial and legal side of things while Klaus was the face. He managed the club events, payroll, employees, social media presence, you name it. He was good at being the center of attention while she worked behind the scenes. But he also handled the grittier parts of it all. He dealt with the foot soldiers, making sure they were moving product. And then with suppliers to make sure they weren’t getting screwed them over. Turf wars and partnerships were all handled by him. It was a messy arena that Klaus shielded her form. And it made sense.

She was a sheltered daughter of an American diplomat. Her experience growing up in Berlin was quite different from his. While he fought to escape the crime infested slum and shady gangs, she vacationed on glamorous yachts in Malta. As a kid, he’d learned about the proper price to charge for a kilo while she was taught French and art history. They came from two different worlds yet managed to build a successful enterprise together. And now with him gone, she had no idea what to do. Just why the fuck did he have to piss off the Russians?

From across the club, Florian studied her closely in amazement. Annalise Roper in the flesh. ‘Lise’ was what she went by with family and close friends. But to her secret associates, she was Snow, the cocaine queen of Deutschland. He was surprised to see her here tonight. He had had the pleasure of meeting her on only a few occasions but knew that it was rare for her to be at the club. And with the circumstances surrounding Klaus death, he would’ve thought she’d lay low and increase security. But her face was unknown in the underground circles. When rival gangs talked about taking out Snow they were expecting a blonde hair blue eyed type. Not the melanated beauty he was currently admiring. The whole thing was ingenious really.

He watched as she threw back a shot, the club lights reflecting off her deep mocha skin. Her all white ensemble gave her an ethereal appearance, as if she were floating above the crowd. The effect she had on him was evident from the noticeable bulge in his pants. Full luscious lips, sultry bedroom eyes, flawless skin. All of her features drove him wild. And that was just her face. The white midi dress she wore, clung to her curves sinfully almost like a second skin. He knew she worked out. A body like that had to be properly maintained and cared for. And he wanted to explore every inch of it.

Florian adjusted his pants before approaching her. She’d just finish placing another drink order, a Jäger with ginger beer. The already skittish server rushed from her table almost running straight into him. When he glared stoically at the poor kid, he took off faster than before, desperate to get away from the two of them. Her almond shaped eyes gazed at him curiously while she took a pull from the hose. She admired the way his clothes fit on his body. His tailored shirt accentuated his impressive biceps. and the first two buttons were undone, showcasing his signature gold chain. He had style, that was undeniable.

Florian fought the urge to look at her lips but they were too hard to resist. The image of them wrapped around the hose was enough to fuel his already wild imagination.

She let out the smoke she inhaled while maintaining eye contact

“Wusstest du nicht, dass es unhöflich ist zu starren?”

He couldn’t help the smirk that fell upon his lips. Sarcasm was her defense mechanism, but it only made him want her more.

“Ja. Ich bin nur überrascht dich hier zu sehen, Schnee”

Her eyes flashed in anger at his nickname for her. She hated the way it sounded in German. Schnee. It was nowhere near as sexy as Snow.

“Darf ich mich setzen?”

“Wirst du mich nerven?”

He took a seat next to her, ignoring her question. Asshole she thought to herself. But a very sexy asshole nonetheless. The jittery server returned with her drink and skittered off to help the next patron.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He leaned into her, pressing a muscular leg onto her. She’d always been in awe of his large frame, even daydreamed about being pinned underneath him while he did unspeakable things to her body. But she was his boss. And she didn’t fuck her employees.

“I don’t hate you. I’m irritated by you” she went to take a sip of her drink to take the edge off. Whichever bartender made it went heavy on the Jäger . She was grateful for it.

“Why? Because I turn you on?” She almost choked on her drink as he brought his mouth to her ear.

Composing herself, she turned to glare at him. But he remained unfazed by her anger.

“Who said you turn me on? And how do you even know what me being turned on looks like? You’ve never had me to know”

“We could change that tonight.”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned away from him. He was a typical playboy, used to getting what he wanted with a few charming words. But she wasn’t falling for it.

"Don’t be like that. You know you want me”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Basic science. Your pupils dilate whenever I come around. And you think I don’t notice but you look me up and down while biting your lip. It’s really sexy by the way, makes me want to lean forward and nibble it myself”

She crossed her arms in indignation trying to prevent his words from having an affect on her. His eyes wandered low to admire the way her breasts were pushed together.

“You also clench your legs together when I speak to you. Just like you are right now. And if you let me, I can give you the friction you desperately need. All you have to do is say yes”

He softly strummed his finger against her thigh. The sensation made her dizzy and she struggled to compose herself. It had been a while. Her last relationship ended a year ago and the Tinder dates just weren’t cutting it anymore.

Florian leaned closer once more and brought his mouth to her ear.

“Want to bet on how many times I can make you come in one night?”

Her resolve weakened and she closed her eyes as she fought for control of her libido. This was not what she had in mind when she made her way to the club.

Fighting past her bodies screams for release, she sat up straight and scooted away from him.

“Flo, I’m here to think. I can’t be distracted. Not now”

He picked up on the solemn tone of her voice. Maybe he was coming in a little too strong. Her friend was just killed and now she was left with an illegal business that she felt ill equipped to run alone. His attempt at seducing her didn’t really help.

“He cared a lot about you, you know? And he respected the hell out of you”

She nodded as she took another pull from the hose, trying to fight back the tears that would undoubtedly come. Klaus truly was her friend. And because of some stupid deal that she didn’t even want him to take, he was dead. She’d never hear his infectious laugh or be on the receiving end of one of his bear hugs again. A chill ran through her as she blew out a plume of smoke.

“Snow, did you hear me?”

“What?”

“I said, let me take you home. This is the last place you need to be”

“I can’t. I need to be here”

“No you don’t. Elias has the club under control. We’ll figure out the rest ourselves, okay?”

Maybe now wasn’t the right time. She’d always prided herself on being rational and calculated. It was hard to be that way when so many emotions swirled through her heart and mind. Fear being the biggest one. What if this was all going to collapse? What if she was next?

She nodded, focusing on fighting back the unshed tears that blurred her vision. This was not how the night was supposed to go. But it was for the best. The business could wait. Right now she needed a distraction. She handed Florian her keys and let him guide her out the club, ignoring the curious stares that followed. Fuck them she thought. It was none of their business who she took home.

They rode in her car in silence. She was careful who she let drive her baby but she trusted Florian for some strange reason. Occasionally his eyes would wander over to her seat so that he could admire her toned legs. He imagined them wrapped around his waist while he drove into her. Or maybe over his shoulders while he pounded into her. Snow smirked to herself as she caught him staring in the mirror.

“Drei” she blurted out. He turned to her as best he could, a curious look on his face.

“You wanted to bet how many times you can make me come tonight. Die antwort ist drei”  

Surprise registered on his face as he took in what she was saying. She was giving him the green light, and he had no intention of passing up on the offer. Florian drove like a mad man, weaving through traffic with a fierce determination. The sounds of blaring car horns filled the air as he made his way to her apartment. When they finally pulled into the parking space outside, he turned the car off and turned to Snow. The tension in the air was thick and he fought to compose himself.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked

“Since when did you become such a gentleman?”

“I just don’t want you to regret this. If you say yes, I won’t hold back. If you say yes, then I’m going to make it my mission to explore every inch of your luscious body. Willst du das??”

With an unmistakable nod, she gave him the answer he wanted. She gazed into his hazel eyes, and found that his eyes were slowly flickering down to her plump lips. Florian leaned forward to kiss her, relishing in the feel of her soft lip against his. Her brought up a hand to tenderly stroke her cheek, causing her to gasp. He took the opportunity to slip in his tongue, gently coaxing her to deepen the kiss.

Something came over Snow as she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed over to straddle his lap. Without breaking the kiss, he leaned his seat back to give them more space. His hands lowered down to her ass which he held a tight grip on.

He broke the kiss, bringing his lips to the tender spot underneath her ear and began to place open mouth kisses there. The feeling made her head fuzzy with need and she felt her wetness drip from her center.

“Flo” she moaned, rocking her hips against his. She felt the substantial bulge in his jeans and it made her even more desperate for release. He chuckled against her skin before bringing his lips to hers and planting a hot open mouth kiss.

His hands moved strategically over her body, as if he was studying every spot that drew a response. He committed it to memory, trusting that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to taste her. He took both her hands in his and pinned them above her head and he continued to kiss her which she returned with fierce determination. The inside of his car began to fill with the sounds of her moans as he slid his hands up her right thigh.

His talented fingers began to glide between her legs. Much to his delight he discovered there were no panties to remove and his fingers found the source of the wetness sliding down her shapely mocha legs.

"Enjoying yourself are we?" he teased as he circled her clit. She moaned and shook, unable to formulate a response.

"Gut" he said as he slipped a finger inside and massaged her g-spot. She shuddered and felt himself hardened as her walls clenched his thick fingers.

He kissed her and continued to massage her inner walls while stroking her clit. The sensation of his mouth devouring her while stroking her most sensitive spot, caused heat to spread through her body. She knew her orgasm was close and she didn’t even care that they hadn’t even made it inside her apartment.

“Fuck, Flo, I’m-”

He pumped his fingers into her, stroking the soft spongy part of her with a wicked speed while coaxing her to her release. With added pressure on her clit, she detonated around him, her warm center tightening around him with a vice grip. He placed soft kisses on her neck, which she exposed to him as she threw her head back in ecstasy.

“That was one” she purred, coming down from her orgasm. She saw the flash of persistence in his eye and immediately knew she was in for a wild night. The gauntlet had been thrown down and he was more than ready to pick it up.

“Let’s get you in the house, jetzt” he growled before crushing his lips to hers.

They stumbled into the foyer of her apartment, a tangled mess of hands and lips. The ride up to her floor was nothing but him pushing her up against the elevator wall and teasing her already sensitive flesh. And right now, with them finally having privacy, she felt a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he grunted, pulling his lips from hers.

“Upstairs, second room on the right”

With no effort, Florian picked her up and made his way up the steps. She began teasing him, suckling and nibbling on the soft flesh of his earlobe. His skin broke out in goosebumps making her smile with satisfaction. He made his way to her bedroom and crushed his lips onto hers, slamming the door behind him with his foot. They remained locked in a deep kiss, her legs wrapped around him, grinding on the front of his jeans. He tossed her onto the bed and she fell with a squeal of delight. After giggling and catching her breath she looked up at him.

He couldn't remember wanting anything so badly. He watched as she crawled on her hands and knees to the front of the bed and started to unbuckle his belt. Taking off his shirt, he measured the gorgeousness of her feminine curves as they lay before him. The gentle arch in her back, the slight hourglass form that widened into the luscious, full heart shape of her butt.

He needed to devour her; to put her in the ecstatic trance that drew him like a magnet to her in the first place. He needed to taste this irresistible creature.

She had succeeded in the arduous task of loosening his belt and had her little hand down the front of his boxers grasped gently around his thick member. He saw her eyes widen and her tongue trace across her lips in anticipation. He pushed his jeans to the ground so she could get an easier grip but when she went to take him in his mouth, he stopped her, took her hand off his member and kissed it.

"You first..."

Florian shoved Snow back onto the bed. She tumbled over with a giggle and a sigh as he crawled over the top of her. He teased her swollen clit with the tip of his shaft for a second and felt her shiver at the contact.

He began at her neck kissing slowly and biting gently, savoring her smell and every inch of her flavor. He made his way to her toned belly and grazed his lips over her navel, watching her toned tummy rise and fall as her breathing became more erratic. He positioned his shoulders under her thighs and gazed at her glistening pussy, laid open for him. Kissing the inside of her right thigh, then suckling the inside of her left, he reveled in her scent. It reminded him of citrus and honey.

With a long, flat tongue he tasted her.He groaned in appreciation at how sweet and juicy she tasted. Craving more, he  wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her closer to his face, burying his mouth in her delicious folds. He could feel her wetness soaking his lips but it only made him more excited. His tongue danced around the sensitive flesh as he responded to her gasps and moans.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop” she begged.

His dick throbbed painfully, wanting in on the action. But this was for her. And he loved making her moan. It was such deep satisfaction to feel the power he had over her. She followed his lead, grinding her hips against the entirety of his mouth, using the friction to get closer and closer to her destination.

He flicked his tongue across her clit in a fluid motion and inserted two eager fingers into her slick center. Her moan rose into a pleasure-filled shriek, he heard her breath come in quicker and knew she was close to her release.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her walls tensing around his fingers as she released once more in a succulent explosion that left his mouth soaking to the bottom of his nose and his hand wet all the way to his wrist. His beard glistened with her juices and it drove him wild to be covered in her scent.

“That was two” he grunted, a sense of pride filling him. He had always been a competitive man and this was one game he was sure to win. She lay sprawled, unable to open her eyes, but with a contented smile on her lips as the waves of her body's aftershock shook her, gently bouncing her breasts. He knew she was more than ready for him.

He quickly stripped her of the rest of her clothing, the white midi dress discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor. He was surprised to discover that in addition to no panties, she’d forgone a bra as well.

“No underwear huh? Well aren’t we nasty” he taunted, as he stroked his dick along her already sensitive clit.

“Shut up and fuck me Florian” she growled, growing impatient. Two orgasms weren’t enough, she wanted more. She needed him to fill her.

He slid his body atop hers, looking deeply into her soulful brown eyes as he sank into her. Her nails dug into his skin as he pulled out before thrusting forward and bottoming out inside her.

He began long, slow, deep strokes wanting her to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning with every down stroke, perfectly in tune with his pace.

“So fucking wet” he gasped as her felt her soft folds took him in deeper and deeper. He had decided in that moment that this was his favorite place to be. He could spend the rest of his life between her thighs and die a happy man.

Her cheeks flushed as the walls of her pussy tightened around him. She knew he was big from the feel of his bulge in the car but she still gasped in surprise when he filled her up. The way he moved within her drove her wild and she was desperate for more. She hooked her leg around his waist, aching for him to be as close to him as she possibly could.

“Please baby, harder” she urged, wanting to feel him fully unleash on her.  Teasingly, he pulled all the way out until just the head was inside her and paused. She opened her eyes and looked at him pleadingly, biting her lower lip hard. He sank his cock back inside her and paused again, causing her to quiver.

“Fuck Flo, get to it!” she cried, causing something inside of him to snap. He picked up his pace, his hips thrusting in her with a feverish need. She was panting as he fucked her and leaned up to kiss him hungrily. His tongue entered her mouth even as his cock penetrated her, hitting that sweet spot. And with one sudden jerk of his hips, he felt her pussy grip him tightly before exploding all around him.

“Oh my fucking God!” she screamed as her entire body dissolved into the waves of pleasure flowing through her. Florian continued to move inside her, softly stroking her face and hair while whispering sweet words in her ear. She was completely shattered, but the hard cock pulsing inside of her told her that the night was far from over.

“And there’s three. Think you got one more for me baby?” he cooed. Her hooded gaze told him she was spent, but he was determined to win this bet. He knew he could push her past the brink of satisfaction one last time.

He pulled out of her and effortlessly flipped her over, leaving her chest pressed into the mattress. He then led her to the edge of the bed, pullingg her lower body up onto her knees. Standing behind her, Florian pushed her head down to the mattress and rubbed the head of my cock against her dripping wet slit.

With a quick thrust forward, he buried his cock inside her roughly, grabbing onto her hips for leverage.

“Fuck!” they both cried out simultaneously.

Snow arched her back, throwing her head back in ecstasy. He grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to pull her back against him as he slammed his cock into her hard and fast. She moaned wantonly, and he felt the familiar tremor of her walls.

“Are you going to come for me again baby?” he cooed into her ear.

She could barely respond but her body answered for him.

“Hold it liebling” he urged, as he pounded into her fiercely.

Her body shook with every thrust of his hips and she wondered just how she would fend off this impending orgasm. As if it wasn’t hard enough, he wrapped both hands around her neck and began fucking her harder.

Her body had no choice but to surrender to his brutal assault and she wailed into the mattress as she fought to stop herself from coming. His thick cock was buried deep inside of her, relentlessly filling her up and staking its claim over her. And just when she thought she couldn’t hold it any longer, he granted her release.

“Fuck, Snow, come! Come all over this dick!” he growled before emptying inside of her, coating her walls with thick ribbons of his cum. Her last orgasm ripped through her, leaving her a screaming mess underneath him. She had never been more thankful for her penthouse apartment that separated her from the rest of her neighbors.

Florian gently pulled out of her before laying next to her. They laid next to each other, both trying to calm their breathing and make sense of what had just transpired between them.

“So I guess I won the bet” he remarked smugly, while taking in her appearance. Her hair stuck to her forehead, dampened by the thin sheen of sweat that had broken out across her body.

“Shut up” she ragged, still struggling to catch her breath. He couldn’t help the chuckle that broke from his lips and pretty soon, they were both laughing hysterically, their arms and legs tangled together.

“What’s my prize. For exceeding your expectations?”

“The nut you got was enough of a prize” she retorted, her head now gently laid on his toned chest. She lazily drew circles around his pecs, relishing in the feel of his warm skin.

“Fair enough”

“But we do have a more serious issue on our hands now,” she continued. The problems she had at the club were still there and a few orgasms wouldn’t be enough to rid her of them. Florian looked down at her expectantly, waiting for her to explain what she meant.

“I need you to walk me through the business. I want to take over.”

Translations:

Wusstest du nicht, dass es unhöflich ist zu starren?- Didn’t you know that it’s rude to stare?

Ja. Ich bin nur überrascht, dich hier zu sehen, Schnee - Yeah, I’m just surprised to see you here Snow.

Darf ich mich setzen?”- May I sit?

“Wirst du mich nerven?- Are you going to annoy me?

Drei/Die antwort ist drei- Three/ The answer is three

Willst du das?- Do you want this?

Gu- Good

Jetzt-Now

Liebling- Darling

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for this story! I hope you like it because I’m so excited to continue writing this!

#florian munteanu #florian munteanu x reader #florian munteanu x black reader #florian munteanu smut

[miss-choco-chips]

Teaching you, teaching me

Four times mother and son learned from and about each other, and one time Tim used his knowledge for evil good.

(Warning: Tim is older in some and younger in others, without order)

(For my babes @the-quiet-carrotcake and @animemangasoul who cheered me up when I was feeling bad, hope this makes you happy as well! 

Also, hon tagged me on a ‘five word prompt generator’ thing and I lost the post, so this is my contribution, five words that inspired each part)

Animal

When Jack died, it was sad but they were prepared. He’d been in a coma for two months by then, and Janet had practically been readying both herself and her son for the outcome. Tim had been sad, but it was more because of a possible future lost (he’d never given up the hope of his father changing one day, of Jack wanting to stay and being more present in his life), than genuine sorrow. Or so had the therapist told her.

Janet hadn’t felt bad, not really. Her relationship with her late husband had been cold long before his death, ruined by years of neglecting their son and being absent of their lives, but she suffered for her son, with his too big heart, who didn’t hesitate on wasting his tears on a father that never deserved them, the second she told him the news. 

Still, she held his hand through the entire funeral, surprised by the way he held his head on high. When he threw an arm over her shoulders to guide her away, after the service was over, she realized he was trying to be strong for her. The thirteen year old, heart breaking inside his small chest, was puffing it out to make himself seem bigger, more reliable, to comfort a mother that didn’t really need it.

Her beautiful, kind son.

Max’s death, a short two months after, was nothing like that.

The dog had been part of their household for nine, almost ten years now. Bought shortly after the circus tragedy, in a desperate attempt at soothing her son’s nightmares with the company of something fluffy and loveable, Max had grown up next to Tim, been there for any sad or happy moment, comforting him or sharing his joy by turns. The golden retriever had seem made specifically of love, giving all of it to the kid he’d been gifted to, and for that alone Janet had gone all out on his medical treatments, desperate to make him live as long as possible for a dog. 

Still, he was gone too soon, taking with him Tim’s smile and leaving ample space for tears. Tim had stayed by his side from the moment the veterinarian informed them of his chronic condition, to the tragic end of it, petting him softly and speaking in low, comforting tones.

Max’s last act before dying had been to lick Tim’s hand, the only thing he could reach from where he was lying on the dog bed, and wag his tail once. Even at death’s door, he’d showed Tim more love than his father ever had. Just for that, Janet would Max more than she did Jack.

It also baffled her, when Tim rejected her offer to bring home another dog a week after the small funeral they held in the backyard, softly closing the book on his lap to give her his full attention.

-You love getting new pets -she felt compelled to point out, because it felt like the obvious course of action.

-I do, but I also know why you are suggesting it now, and it won’t work. You can’t make me forget my sadness over losing Max by getting me a puppy, mom. 

-It’ll fill the void -she insists. Almost desperately. 

(She can’t stand to hear her child cry by himself at night, his despair breaking her heart worse than anything else ever could)

-It won’t -he says, shifting in the window seat he always choose when deep in thought or in a contemplative mood-. I loved Max, not because he was a dog, but because he was Max. Even if you buy me a hundred puppies, I’ll love them because they’d be them. It won’t make me forget my pain over Max’s death. 

She wanted to fight him on it, offer more, whatever it took to wipe the dim and far away look from his eyes, but he glanced up at her, so softly and fond, and she felt her tongue glueing itself to the top of her mouth. 

She thought, weirdly enough, of Wayne. Of how, when his first son went away, how he took another boy in. Despite loving Jason, he never stopped missing Dick. She thinks she understands, a little, where Tim was coming from.

(Tim would throw his book at her, if he knew she was comparing the Waynes to dogs, but, if the shoe fits…)

Demonstration

They say watching was the best form of learning, and Tim took it to heart. He analyzed people, going to work, hanging out with friends, buying groceries, fighting, laughing, crying… he saw, and he learned.

The one he watched the most was his mother, though.

How she smiled oh-so-politely at parties, how she ruthlessly destroyed the person speaking to her with short, well informed facts and dirty laundry. How she did both at the same time.

He went with her to DI, and took notice of the way her hips swayed with each step whenever she needed the room’s attention on her, or made her heels click extra hard against the porcelain floor when she wanted averted eyes.

She waved sweetly to her secretary, and frostily glared at the board member sitting three seats away from her.

She clenched her teeth during a phone call with someone she hated, but kept her voice perfectly smooth, warm even, as if speaking to an old friend.

He knew he would inherit the company one day. And, small as DI had been in the past, it had flourished under Janet Drake’s tender and constant care, blooming into the powerhouse it was today, on par with Wayne Enterprises. It was intimidating, to imagine all that power, all that responsibility, on his shoulders. 

Mother, Aunt Nicole, Uncle Lex, Uncle Bruce, Dick, Jay… they all said it, that Tim was too kind, too soft. He would give his hand to someone down without a thought, rather than see if they had a weapon first. Sweet, they called him, and made him blush, because he liked it. Liked that, to all that ruthless, sharp, for moments cruel people, he was a warm presence. A safe, comfortable place to lay worries to rest and smile. He liked being their sweet Timmy.

But he also despised it, because he was a gothamite, and this city ate sweet people whole for dessert, just after finishing with the foolish and naive ones that made for it’s lunch. There was no place for tender people, because that was the best kind to sink teeth into, and Gotham feeds on them. And he can’t die, because who is going to make sure mom and Nicole don’t go off the deep end? Who’s going to help Lex understand and bond with his son, with Conner? Who’s going to make sure the Waynes are getting along, when Alfred himself decides to leave them to their terrible life choices?

So he watches his mom, because she’s a prime example of someone not to be fucked with. Someone who is going to survive this wreck of a city until her drawn out, bitter end, and when that comes, she’ll go kicking and screaming and suing people to the ends of the earth. She doesn’t fear Gotham, and while sure as fuck Gotham doesn’t fear her either, it at least respects her. 

So he watches, and memorizes, and adapts behaviours and gestures into his own, tries to mimic the look in her eyes that send people flinching back and laughing nervously.

And, since he’s watching, he notices that she knows. How she’d look over her shoulder, straight into his eyes, as if saying ‘pay attention, I’m only showing you this once’ before she does something particularly tricky. Demonstrates her way of surviving, and lets him learn from it to make his own.

Tim, eleven years old, so tender and soft he’s like a warm, eatable bunny in everyone’s opinion, closes his eyes and breathes in, deeply. When he opens them, the icy blue of his gaze is enough to send the closest board member stumbling back and mumbling an apology (for what, who knows) before scurrying out of the room. 

Mom looks back to the rest of the board, but Tim knows (because he watches her all the time, he’s learned her to the smallest detail) that she’s smiling. 

She’s proud.

Galaxy

It’s late, and she feels sick and wants nothing more than to go to sleep. She’d basically lived at the office this last week, because of some stupid mistake Jack had made with the one piece of paperwork she needed him to sign (how he manages to screw up from all the way across the world, she can’t quite understand; it surely requires talent), and feels about ready to collapse on her bed.

But, because it’s been a while since she saw him, something in her gut tells her to go look for her son. Tim’s probably asleep right now, it’s almost four a.m, but if she’s silent enough, she could sneak a quick peek through the door, make sure he’s fine, and then go to bed completely unburdened.

Except, when she gets there, she’s treated to the sight of her son, her eight year old son, getting back into his room from God knows where by climbing through his window. Which, by the way, was located on the third floor.

Janet pressed a hand to her chest, as if to make sure her heart was still beating. It was, but the speed couldn't be normal.

Was this a heart attack? 

Hidden by the shadows on the hallway, she noticed how he removed his tiny sneakers, that she had completely forgot he even owned, and thrusted them under the bed. They were worn out, full of grim, obviously used often for activities like sneaking out at night and climbing the house. 

Yes, she was having a heart attack. And an aneurysm. Simultaneously.

The camera around his neck, she did remember. The one gift he had asked for his last birthday, the only thing he ever begged her for. She hadn’t understand his passion for owning one, but since he never had looked so earnest (and wanting to make up for Jack missing the day) she conceded.

Was it a mistake? Watching the little boy making himself comfortable in his bed, going through the photos in the camera with the most delighted expression ever, she felt like ‘fuck yes’ wasn’t a strong enough answer.

Her first impulse, to jump inside the room and demand answers, was squashed down almost as soon as it hitted her. If she did, Tim would clam up and deny everything. Instead, she breathed in deeply and tapped her knuckles against the doorframe.

Tim almost jumped straight out of his skin, looking at her like a thief caught red handed. It’d be almost funny, if her heartbeat wasn’t still off the charts.

-Timothy, it’s quite late. Why are you awake at this hour? And with your camera? -she made a show of scanning his clothing, as if she wasn’t aware of the jeans and hoodie- Why aren’t you on your pajamas?

She could almost hear him thinking, brilliant mind kicking into overdrive as her prodigious son searched for an answer that would satisfy his mother and keep him out of trouble. Shame no such answer existed.

-I… was outside, mama -he mumbled; calling her like that, amping up the cuteness, was almost overdoing it, but she supposed the situation called for big guns- Taking pictures of the sky. I-I know it’s dark, and polluted, but I heard today was going to be extra-starry, and I thought maybe I could photograph the stars for you?

He was good, she ought to give him that. But years too young to even try to lie to her.

-I see -she answers, calmly walking closer to him. Her face betrayed nothing, and she could see how that was getting into him by the way he was fondling with the camera, almost carelessly compared to his earlier reverent touch.

He flinched when she sat by his side.

-M-mom?

-Well? -an arched eyebrow- Aren’t you going to show me? You did something incredibly dangerous, climbing down your window- no, don’t even try to lie, I saw you climbing back in. Don’t think we won’t be talking about that in the morning. But you did something truly reckless, for those pictures for me. The least I can do is see them.

Quick, trembling hands fumbled a bit with the buttons. Janet was honestly surprised when he turned the camera around, showing actual sky pictures to her. She believed it a bluff. Maybe preventive measures, in case he got caught? She was sure he was lying, because even if they were sky pictures, it wasn’t a particularly nice view, all foggy and polluted Gotham landscape.

She also noticed (though pretended not to) how those angles weren't ones he could achieve from their backyard, which upped her panic levels a few notches. Her baby had been alone, at night, away from home, in this shithole of a city.

-What a pity -she says, instead, giving back the camera, despite her burning desire to search for older pictures to get an idea of her son’s true activities-, those look like the usual sky. I would have loved to see the stars. Well, not your fault, this place is just ugly. Maybe we should move to Metropolis, I’m sure there are stars there.

-Mom…!

-Hush, now, go to sleep. We are talking about sneaking out and bedtimes tomorrow, I’m too tired right now.

She could see his anxiety (at moving away? Why did he love this place so much?), but he must have realized he’d push his luck too far if he insisted, so he kissed her cheek and let her tuck him in. 

Despite her bone-deep tiredness, Janet couldn't get a single second of shut eye at all. By six a.m and truly out of ideas, she picked up the phone. Too respectful of Nicole’s boundaries to bother her at that hour (or at least, not desperate enough; had the situation been a little more urgent, she wouldn’t have hesitated to drag her to the manor kicking and screaming), she called Lex.

At the fifth ring, her old friend's voice answered- I have a conference with the president in a few hours and need rest, this better be important.

-Please, your sleep schedule is even worse than mine. I need an opinion.

-And is Al Ghul unavailable? Why are you bothering me, when you two usually ignore my advice and go to each other?

-Don’t be jealous, green isn’t your color. Lavender isn’t either, but well, I guess you can’t win all your battles…

-Bold words for someone asking for help.

-Who said anything about help? I just need a new perspective. And I’m already regretting going to you for it.

-Well, I’m awake now, so might as well. Mercy -Luthor’s voice sounded a little muffled, probably covering the receiver while he addressed his bodyguard slash buttler- I’ll be in the study, bring me coffee.

She gave him a few minutes, twirling one of her dark locks in her pointer finger. Laying in bed, unmade by all the tossing and turning she did for the last hours, she looked the picture of unrest. Luthor would laugh himself sick if he saw her now.

-Alright, I have coffee now. What happened?

-I caught Tim coming back home  after sneaking out last night. It looked like he did it before, multiple times; he had specific shoes for it that he hid, and even got some backup-plan photographs to make it look like he was just in the backyard photograpying the sky.

She heard the squeaking sound his chair made as he sat straighter, floored by her confession. 

-You should oil that chair. Is unbecoming for your image if it makes that kind of sounds everytime you move on it.

-Sorry, I can’t answer properly to the last part because I’m still reeling for the opening bit.

-Weak.

He ignored her (rude), muttering under his breath- Tim what? No, he wouldn’t… well, he does have Janet’s genes, so maybe…

-So -she cut him off, because if he kept that line of thinking, she would hang up and he still hadn’t given her any advice-, your thoughts?

-Get a bodyguard on him 24-7 who’ll keep him from going out at night -he answered quick as a wip, not even needing to think it through. She huffed.

-If it were that easy, I wouldn't need your opinion, you fool. This is my son we are talking about. Guilt and duty might keep him from going out, if I appeal to those, but brute force and shackles? He’s smart, smarter than you, maybe even than me. If he really wants to go, and finds no moral obstacles, he’ll find a way. 

-So, do what you said, attack his conscience. 

-I want to keep him safe, not emotionally destroy him.

-Forbid him from going? Like you said, he’s a dutiful son, and very well behaved.

-Which means he’ll make sure I think he’s obeying, but no guarantees he’ll actually do it. Think harder.

A few minutes went by, before the man sighed.

-You said it yourself, if he really wants to go, there’s little you can do, short of locking him up like a prince in a tower. Maybe speak to him, tell him your reasons to worry… and get him some martial arts teacher, to give him a fighting chance if he ends up disobeying anyway.

----.----

After speaking to Luthor and a quick call to Nicole for a favor (namely, get Lady Shiva to accept a work as a sensei for Tim), Janet slept for a solid nine hours. Eating, overseeing some papers and phoning her secretary to clean her schedule for the rest of the week, and she was ready to face her son after having dinner together. 

They sat on Tim’s bed, and she held his hand as she spoke to him. About how cold it was, how easy it was, before he was born. How life was do this, think about that, conquer here, throw something away there. Act, consequence, simple as that. Clinical as that.

It was different, she said, when he came to her life, to her arms. Because it was warm, and difficult, and so, so scary. She’d never been so afraid of the butterfly effect before. Now, consequences of a misstep could come to bite her in twenty years, a simple act  now could make Tim despise her in the future.

“I’ve never been so afraid in my life”, she told him, baring her soul for the first time in her life. “But I’ve also never been happier, and it’s all because of you.”

“I love you”, she told him, giving her heart away for the first time in her life. “And I can’t lose you.”

Those words were the hardest for her to say. She did it, anyway. Because he needed to hear them, and because they might be enough to keep him from pulling last night’s stunt again.

By the time she was done, Tim’s face was a mess of tears and snot. He hadn’t uttered a single word, holding onto her hand like a lifeline, but his smile was the brightest, prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

-I’ll be careful, Mom -he promised, between wrecked sobs. It had truly affected him, to hear her heart thoughts so bluntly. She ought to do this more often, if he treasured it so much- I.. I won’t go out at night alone, not until I’m someone not even the Rogues can mess with. I promise -he looks at his bedside table, where the camera sits, and looks regretful but determined at the same time. She knows he means it. Whatever feeling he got from sneaking out to take pictures, it evidently wasn’t as strong as what he felt now, holding his mom’s hand and shaking from such strong emotions.

-Thank you -she breathed in deeply, relaxing for the first time since the night before, letting go of his hand to hug his shoulders, pressing him into her side.

After a few seconds of silence, he weaseled out of her hold, raising a hand to halt her when she tried to follow his example and get up- Stay there a minute, Mom, I have something to show you.

With that, he sprinted to the light switch, and turned them off. But a slight, greenish glow remained in the room, and then she noticed the glow in the dark stars sticking to the ceiling.

There were… a lot of them.

Tim came back and sat once again next to her, hand quickly snatching hers.

-You said… you said you wanted to see the stars, so I made you a little galaxy. Whenever you want to see them, you can come here… You’ll also know, that way, that I’m here and not sneaking out.

Thanking people wasn’t something Janet did often. But she had said ‘I love you’ today, and that one was a first, so this wasn’t too far fetched for her.

-Thank you, Tim.

Feedback

A week after showing his mother his multiple closets full of disguises and aliases’ clothing, he was called into her office. 

He had expected some questions, maybe even feedback or advice in how to perfect his portrayal of other people.

He hadn’t expected this.

-..and I know I’m not as… adapted to the ever changing times as younger people like you. Me, Lex, sometimes Nicole, we are too set on our ways, but. 

She cleared her throat. Tim still wasn’t sure he wasn’t having some kind of fever dream.

-But. It’s important for you to know that I… I won’t ever judge you for something you are. I might judge your actions, like when you accept Todd’s offers for a ride downtown, or Grayson’s requests for a dance, or when you are too dumb/ kind, too kind, towards other people… But I’ll never judge you for something you didn’t choose. Like this.

In the midst of this confusing speech, Tim still couldn't quiet comprehend why mom was gesturing towards the shoes on the desk. They were simple, red heels, not even that high, belongings of Caroline Hill, one of his more successful aliases. It was a wonder how people on the Alley’s clinic hadn’t catched on that their favorite voluntary nurse slash doctor in training was a fifteen year old kid instead of the nineteen year old shy girl they thought, but it was an ego boost when they called him Miss Hill, and a boost to his medical skills when they taught him something new.

-I understand this is an… -a quick glance to the papers in her desk. Had mom… wrote this down beforehand? What…?- age of changes, yes, an age of changes for you. And you are… discovering- no, learning yourself. And I’m honored that you trusted me enough to show me that, and came to me in this… confusing times.

Tim opened his mouth to speak. Mom seemed to panic, as much as mom ever did anyways, quickly sorting through her sheets of… Information? Pointers?

-Not that I think you are confused! I trust that you know yourself the best, and I trust whatever you say to me are your honest feelings on the matter. 

-I… I am confused -he managed to blurt out. 

Mom winced, and searched among her papers some more. When she seemed to find whatever it was, she pulled it above the others, gave them a quick glance, and kept going- It’s okay if you don’t know it yet, too. There’s more than just… male or female. According to my research, there’s a ‘neither’, ‘both’ and ‘sometimes one, sometimes the other’ option.

Janet seemed lost at her own words. Tim could relate. He wasn’t even sure they were talking about his aliases anymore.

-What I mean to say is -she breathed in deeply, letting the papers fall to the desk and meeting his eyes head on-, I love you. You are my son, daughter, neither, both, whatever you feel, but still mine. My child, and nothing you do about your… identity or sexuality can change that. I’ll always accept you, as you are. And if anyone ever gives you trouble about it, you can always come to me and I’ll set their minds straight, or remove them from the picture.

Tim felt fondness surging in his chest, even as his mind came to an abrupt halt when he finally understood what this was all about.

-You might have to be patient with me, or explain some concepts, as I learn about this, because its all new information to me. But I promise you I’ll always love you no matter what, and I’m willing and ready to do my best to/

-Mom -he finally choked up, torn between embarrassment and profound love- I’m not… I’m a boy. I really, really appreciate all this, but you don’t need to… I mean, the shoes and clothes? It’s because I’m making aliases, so I can learn different things and meet people without it being traced back to me. Like, tools. Caroline Hill, the shoes owner, for example, is a tool to learn about medicine, and practice the way of women in case I ever need to disguise myself as one. Not… not actual representations of Tim Drake.

There was a minute of silence.

-Well, this is… unexpected.

-But -he continued, cheeks warm but hurting from smiling so hard- you are the best mom ever, and this learning you are doing? It’s great, even if not applicable to me, because it… it’s good, for people to understand and accept other people like that. It makes you a better person, and I’m really proud of you.

He got up from his seat and walked around the desk, sitting in the floor by his mom’s chair like he did when he was a toddler, and rested his head in her lap, hugging her legs, eyes going to hers with wonder and happiness. She seemed utterly relieved, both at not having fucked up their chat, and at him not being mad at the misunderstanding.

-Aliases, huh. I can help with that. We can talk about it over dinner, and I’ll give you some suggestions.

-Thanks, mom. And, hum, since you brought up the whole gender and sexuality stuff… this might be a good moment to let you know I’m bi.

Long, sharp nails scratched his scalp softly, his eyes closing almost on instinct. Her laugh ringed in his ears.

-It doesn’t matter to me, Timothy. Boy, girl… whoever you bring home, I’ll…

He smiled, expectant.

-... never accept them. No one, no matter their genders, is good enough for my son.

Ah, there she was, the mother he knew and loved.

Movie

Tim, sitting in his study, didn’t even raise his eyes from the paperwork mom had assigned him (to help make him accustomed to dealing with it for when he’ll have a more central role in DI)  when the door opened and closed with a bang. He continued signing contracts with one hand, while the other patted his desk for his phone, shooting a quick text to the butler without looking.

-Can you believe it? -his intruder clamored, walking back and forth in front of Tim’s desk, hands messing through long locks of black hair.

-No -he replied, eyes still not leaving his work- It's amazing, how the stock market dropped on Wayne Enterprises. What is Bruce thinking, with the neon knights? He can’t do that and then go gallivanting around the world alone again, the stockholders won’t stand for such a big inversion without the logical follow up. I need to phone Damian about this, maybe he can ask his brothers to pose as Bruce and/

-I’m not talking about your precious Waynes!

-I know -he replied, hand finishing the last stroke of his signature, raising his eyes to his godmother just as the door opened and the butler brought a tea (and coffee) set, placing it by the little table in the corner of the study-, but I needed a few minutes to finish this before paying attention to you, Aunt. Now, a cup of tea? I’ll be having coffee, but it might not be the best for your frayed nerves.

-My nerves aren’t frayed, you little brat. Show some respect. Where is my cute little angel of a godson? -she complained, sitting as elegantly as ever in the plus couch by the little table. Tim sat opposite her.

-He hasn't slept in three days -and is being asked to meddle into adult’s problems, but he didn’t voice that part, merely mixing ingredients in the steaming cup-, It’s natural to be bitter. Now, tea?

She didn’t answer, but accepted the offered drink, already prepared to her tastes perfectly. Despite her anger, she smiled. Two sugars, no milk, a little lemon, the smallest hint of vodka. Her godson knew her so well.

A few seconds went by as Tim readied his own coffee and downed half. The butler topped the cup for him, and then left just as quietly as he had came.

-Now, want to tell me what has you so mad?

He already knew, but playing innocent was one of his strengths. Bruce still blamed Dick for the incident on the music room of the manor, despite the fact that Tim had been there at the moment and his eldest far away on a secret mission civilian Tim wasn't supposed to know about. That was the true power of a goodie two shoes.

-Your mother, she… You know we were planning on going to the movies today, and she…!

-Ah -he nodded, as if only catching up then- She went with Dana, right?

Nicole gritted her teeth, downing her cup in one long glup to calm herself. Tim merely took the teapot and filled it again.

-Janet doesn’t even like the movies! She hates being around other people. The only reason she goes is to humor me, and now… That woman…

-Dana is a good person -he intervened, because he genuinely liked her. Dana Winters had been in charge of taking care of his comatose dad until his death, and they had spent some time together during his visits to Jack. A lot of his alias Caroline Hill had been based on her. And right now, she...

-Too good -Nicole muttered, which Tim suspects, was the root of the problem.

-Shouldn't you be glad? -he asked, head tilted in his best show of naivety- That mom is trying to get someone kind to be by her side? Dad wasn’t… dad wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t as nice to mom as he could have been. I, for one, want her to be happy.

-Janet doesn’t do nice.

It took everything in him to not answer ‘well, she might tonight’, because that would ruin his innocent image, and he was afraid Nicole might actually stab Dana. Really, refraining himself like that was almost painful. Mom better appreciate his sacrifice.

-The nicest thing she could ever stand was you -she continued, ignorant to her godson’s internal struggle-, and you are her baby.

-I’m fifteen -he felt compelled to inform her, but was promptly shushed.

-To us, you never grew past your chubby stage.

-I didn’t have a chubby stage, and you can’t prove otherwise -he’d know. He was the one who got rid of the evidence.

-Back to the point… Dana is no good fit for your mom. She’d end up tearing off her own hair in frustration in less than a month after countless discussions of morality and ‘doing the right thing’. She can barely resist when it’s you doing the nagging and, again, you are the exception to all of Janet’s rules.

Tim hummed, thinking distractedly how someone as smart as Nicole couldn’t see that Dana’s good heart wasn’t the problem here. Oh well, he needed to be a little more direct.

-And who do you think would be a good match for mom? Someone distant, like dad? Or easily manipulated?

A growling almost came out of Nicole’s mouth. Tim refilled his coffee cup again.

-Neither… those make for good tools, but not partners. Janet needs someone who understands her, who couldn’t judge, who likes her as rotten and twisted as she is.

Should he protest? This was his mother they were talking about. Not that she was wrong, but… still.

Deciding against it, because he needed to get back to work and this conversation was already exhausting, he nodded- Mm, but plenty of people in high society adore her... 

-Those fools either don’t know of her true nature, or are too scared of it. None would make for a good life companion.

-So, someone who isn’t scared of her, knows her inside out, isn’t morally upright…

-They should also have similar objectives in life -Nicole interjected, empty cup clattering against the plater when she placed it there-, otherwise Janet might feel the need to remove them to keep them off her way.

-Objectives, like…?

-Staying on top of the food chain of the corporate world, for example. And keeping loved ones safe. Like you, for her.

“And Damian, for you”, he didn’t say. Finally, they seemed to be reaching the end of the discussion. Just a few more lines...

-And they should be strong -she kept on, digging her own grave for Tim’s convenience-, because Janet is, too, which means her enemies are as well, and she needs someone to have her back if she ever needs it.

-I don’t think -he wondered, finger tapping his chin in childlike confusion- that such a person exists. Someone as morally compromised as mom, strong enough to help her achieve her objectives, who knows her and loves her. I never met someone like that… I mean, besides you.

Time seemed to stop for Nicole, who dropped the scon she had halfway through her mouth. Tim knew what having a romantic realization felt like, so he let her deal with it while he finished his coffee. After a few minutes letting her stew, he force a look of curiosity and concern on his face- Aunt Nicole? Are you alright? You went really quiet…

Nicole wasn’t sitting in front of him any longer. Okay, he’ll forgive the rudeness, in the spirit of love and all that. Picking up his phone, he sent Dana a quick text, warning her to make herself scarce.

“Everything going according to plan on my end”

“Ah, okay. I’ll thank Janet for accompanying me, and ask her to just be friends. Then I’ll catch a taxi :) “

“Yeah, let me know once you are back on your house, it’s getting pretty late”

“Aw, you’re such a gentleman. Me and your mom spent all afternoon talking about you, you know. And Nicole”

“You buttered her up to the idea?”

“She seemed to be considering ending this ‘date’ early as well to go looking for her, so I’m guessing I did ;) “

“Thank you again, Dana “

“Make sure they invite me to the wedding, and we’re even!”

“If they don’t elope, that’s it”

“They won’t. That would mean missing the chance to make Uncle Lex miserable by asking him to plan the whole ceremony”

Smiling despite himself, he put his coffee cup down and went back to his desk. Better to get work out of the way before Mom and Nicole came back and informed him of the good news. 

Shocked face number three might do.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #Janet Drake au #Nicole Al Ghul (oc) #My writing #lex luthor #dana winters #dana is not involved in the way you'd expect #sexuality and gender identity discussed #janet tries y'all #janet drake is a good mom #misunderstandings #jack dies but we care more about the dog's death tbh

[limit-list]

so i just watched the artemis fowl movie and i would like to say: what the fuck.

i typed out this entire post and then deleted it, but here’s an incomplete list of everything the artemis fowl movie did wrong. (feel free to add on)

[SPOILERS AHEAD for the Artemis Fowl movie]

okay first of all.... i don’t even know where to start. just what the crap was disney thinking? i’m going to attempt to create a list of everything i hated about it, as a huge fan of the book series. disclaimer: i was literally a child in elementary school when i read this series, so my knowledge might not be as complete as possible.

there is no criminal action. for the heir of a line of criminal masterminds, there sure is a lot of lawful behavior!! in the book, artemis threatens a sprite for information. he holds holly hostage for gold. he’s leading a criminal enterprise. i just.... no. his whole thing is that he’s morally gray. in the movie, he denies that his father was a criminal, which??? buddy that’s the whole point.

his mom is dead. um... no? if i’m remembering it correctly, his dad is assumed dead in the first book, and artemis’s mom is mentally unstable. she’s not dead.

artemis sr. knows about the fairies, and he’s the one who taught artemis everything. also no? artemis learned about fairies from a book. artemis sr. is just a criminal mastermind.

commander root is female. haha, no. okay i get wanting to show a female in a position of power, makes disney look good (but like releasing a movie about a police force rn? ...read the room disney.), but it’s a plot point that holly is the only female in the force. that’s something she has to deal with and overcome all the men constantly underestimating her, and it really made her a character that i know i looked up to as a kid. by making commander root a woman, they just slipped around that entire issue. ugh.

holly short is white. okay, correct me if i’m wrong, but aren’t all elves supposed to have dark skin? i’m pretty sure i remember that from the books. on a similar note, i think butler is supposed to be white, he’s russian? if this is wrong, and it might be, then i’m sorry, but that’s what i’m remembering.

holly’s motivation to being in LEPrecon is that her dad died. it’s actually supposed to be that her mom died of radiation poisoning from the humans, and she joins up to get revenge on the humans. she actually had a reason to hate artemis beyond the whole, ya know, kidnapping her and holding her hostage.

artemis and holly are WAYYY too friendly. no. nope. they have zero bonding beyond the whole daddy issues thing, which isn’t even supposed to be a thing!! holly only punches him once, which is a travesty. artemis wanders up to her “cell”, asks if he can trusts her, and whips off his glasses. for a genius, he sure is a dumbass.

artemis willingly wears casual clothes. he does get his suit eventually, but i thought it was hilarious. i’m mostly mad that they made him less sociopathic (but like that poor actor. i hope he knows we don’t blame him, he did his best with an awful script).

mulch is portrayed as an off brand hagrid who has explosive diarrhea. that’s enough on that.

the whole thing is narrated as if mulch has been captured by MI6 and is being interrogated. there’s no reason for this. literally none!!!

they call butler by his first name. it makes me so uncomfy!! that’s a whole thing, he goes by butler, and they turned it into “call him butler and you die” which is just so wrong.

juliet is butler’s sister, not his niece. i may be upset. the actress was adorable but like no.

artemis is just... so disney-fied. i know for a fact that the boy is not athletic, but they have him surfing and riding a hoverboard through the woods. they took away all of his moral complexity, instead turning him into someone who says “he’s not a criminal, he’s my dad!” have i mentioned that he wears casual clothes? ugh.

um wtf is an aculos? a way to get around artemis being greedy and turn him into a kid who only wants to do the right thing? did not enjoy that.

LEPrecon doesn’t try to kill him after the troll, i assume because they don’t send in his ransom gold. instead of attempted murder, they save artemis sr. through the power of ~friendship~

oh, opal koboi is in this. they mixed together a few different plot lines from the books. did not enjoy, made me think of the percy jackson movie where they tried to sum up through the fifth book in the second movie.

i wanted to see butler fight a troll whilst wearing armor, but instead i got holly hanging from a chandelier while butler kinda stabbed it with a random bull statue and artemis shot at it. sad.

they leave it open for a sequel. i wish they wouldn’t. stop ruining my childhood favorites. let me wait for a fully animated tv show with different seasons for each of the books.

#artemis fowl #artemis fowl movie #artemis fowl spoilers #spoilers #i dont wanna get attacked for posting spoilers but im so peeved #movie? what movie? #imma choose to ignore this movie like we choose to ignore the pjo and atla movies #not atla content #fowldom

[goldenworldsabound]

Okay so this is really random but I actually really love Star Trek (especially the original series) and I know you self ship with Spock so is it okay if I please ask for the background and some details about your insert perhaps? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

cracks knuckles I LOVE TALKING ABOUT SPOCK AND TREK AND ALSO YES TOS IS SO GREAT!!!!!

I’mma shove the whole thing under a cut cause I wanna go off fhdkjads

Spock was my first fave ever (and he’ll always be very special for it) over a decade ago when I was in high school. I wrote tons and tons of pages about us. And I never told a soul until I got back into self shipping 3 years back or so. The original idea I had for my interest (which is not the current one) was that like. I got teleported into the future randomly (except it wasn’t random and I covered this in a zany time travel plot type episode) and turns out Trek Real. So Kirk and Bones and Spock were all trying to help me adjust and stuff! Kirk and Bones were familial figures for me at that time and Spock 🥺 Spock was like. Very uncertain how to deal with me BUT he respected how much I wanted to adjust to being thrown a thousand years into the future and he taught me SCIENCE things and we fell in LOVE. There were so many plots and twists and turns of this relationship but we bonded and got married and it was great 🥺❤💕 I could go on forever about the various episodes for this SI but I will hold off for the moment because that’s the old SI. The old tag was #love is fascinating hehe

My NEW SI is a childhood friends to lovers with Spock 👀 I have some fics I’ll link at the end actually BUT her family lived on a variety of planets throughout her childhood. One of those was Vulcan! Where she met young Spock who was still learning how to be more Vulcan than human. They became close friends for the time that she lived on Vulcan and accidentally brushed minds enough together that they created a small, weak bond. They didn’t know this!!! they were just two lonely kids messing around you know. She also defended him against bullies once which while it made him happy ultimately made things a little worse for him but ): what can you do

But then her family leaves (and Spock doesn’t go see her off because he knew he’d cry and his dad would be Disappointed ™) and it’s really sad ): eventually her family gets into some sort of space accident which she alone survives by being cryogenically frozen. It takes a few years before she’s found, so the age gap between them has widened since she just. Didn’t age as she’s cryogenically frozen. This means that by the time she’s doing Starfleet training, Spock is already done.

Eventually the Enterprise is being set up for it’s 5 year mission and she’s chosen to be a Science Officer onboard to serve under Spock. She’s been through a lot of shit and doesn’t remember why he seems familiar at first (also he’s grown up and is a lot more Vulcan and a lot less human), but upon getting near him the bond kind of tingles at the back of her mind and she’s like OH!!!! OH IT’S YOU!!!! Spock of course does remember her but he’s like we don’t have time for that yet launching a starship is very busy. He also realizes he’s sort of weakly bonded to her and he’s like ah that’s bad because...I am bonded to T’Pring.

SO!!! Spock and I work together on and off the bridge, and on missions, and everyone is like wow those two work together really well! Which most people don’t get along that well with Spock at first. But the first shoreleave we have Spock is like hey...look...we’re sort of bonded and that’s bad so let me undo that. And I’m devastated (he’s also devastated but quietly) because like his presence has been in my mind for most of my life and suddenly it’s gone and also I’d totally fallen for him and he’s bETROTHED and I’m just like. Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck. Very upsetti. But Kirk and Bones see me being grumpy and alone on shore leave so they hang out with me and that starts up our friendships (and eventual romance with Kirk).

But Spock and I continue to be really close and work together very well and rumors circulate about us having crushes on each other. Which. It does seem to be the case. But I’m like NO he can’t have a crush on me he’s BETROTHED and I’m full of heartache at all times (Spock is too but that’s harder to notice obvs). Actually we’re both very professional about it in general and we ignore the rumors.

EVENTUALLY we get to The Pon Farr Episode fjkhdsaf and I’m super pissed and I yell at everybody (T’Pring, Vulcan elders, you know, lots of folks I shouldn’t yell at) about how I love Spock and this is just!!! Ridiculous and fuck you specifically T’Pring (grrRRRRRR) and Bones gets me to calm down but it’s TOO LATE Spock 300% heard me say I love him. But I’m like I guess it doesn’t matter cause he might die.

Of course he doesn’t and that’s very good but now I am thoroughly embarrassed because I confessed in front of so many people so I avoid Spock to the point that it affects our work and Jim is like Wendy. You have to talk to him. He’s trying to talk to you. I say this as your friend but soon I’m gonna be saying it as your Captain and I’m like okay. Fine. I guess. And then we talk and we start dating hKJFEWHJFKEWHJK it’s tender, I promise.

Also up until Pon Farr Episode shit Kirk and I have been dating on and off too (secretly) but like. I mean we both love each other but we also are both pretty obviously into Spock and it’s hard because Kirk struggles with the fact that the ship has to be his first priority so it’s not really fair to me if he dates me (I insist I don’t mind but I’m also super preoccupied thinking about Spock a lot of the time).

After Spock and I are bonded and married this becomes an OT3 situation as well because um we both love Kirk.

So hopefully some of that was intelligible KHFJFHW here is a link where you can find all the fics I posted sorted by ship!!! The OT3 is #interwoven stars, Spock and I is #across time and space, and Kirk and I is #solar flare love

https://goldenworldsabound.carrd.co/#tos

thanks for coming to my TED Talk

#love is fascinating #across time and space #solar flare love #interwoven stars #I resisted so many details and it's still super long fdhsjahfsdj

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

@trek-tracks

I'd read your rant! Also, you should see Beyond. I haven't seen ID, but I'm confident Beyond is WAY better than ST:2009 and, from what I've heard about ID (that it is a garbage fire), Beyond is not the one of the three to not see.

Yeah, I have heard that about Beyond, and I keep meaning to watch it. I’m not like actively avoiding it, it just sort of...hasn’t happened. I have a To Watch list about five miles long at this point that I just keep foregoing in favor of watching gaming videos on YouTube. It’s a sad life.

But here’s the rant (feel free to skip if you didn’t follow this blog to hear me complain about AOS):

My strong impression from the first two movies was that the writers misunderstood--or just, for whatever reason, chose to discard-- the dynamic that Kirk, Spock and Bones actually had in TOS.

In TOS there’s a very deliberate balance wherein Spock and Bones are on opposite ends of a spectrum of logic vs emotion/ lawful vs chaotic, and Kirk sits in the middle of that spectrum, getting the input from both ends and then turning that into balanced decision-making. (I know it’s deliberate because of that whole “I took one man and wrote him as three people” quote from Roddenberry.) It’s a great setup when it’s being used correctly because it gives you a built-in method of examining any situation that comes up in the show from multiple angles without sacrificing the drive of any of the characters.

Trying to write one single character covering the same total perspective as Spock, McCoy and Kirk can create combined would necessarily result in either a character who appears to be wildly indecisive at best and lacking in any consistent characterization at worst, or in paring down the range of that perspective to avoid the first thing happening. This is all especially important in a show with the set-up of Star Trek, where not only do you not have much time to deliberate because everything has to be solved in under 60 minutes and no we will NOT be revisiting any of it later, but your lead character is in a position of formal command, meaning you have very little room to allow him to be hesitant or indecisive in his decisions before he starts to look like he shouldn’t be in that job. Indeed, it’s made explicitly clear multiple times that any sign of hesitation on Kirk’s part will be taken by not just him but most of the crew and Starfleet as a sign that he’s losing ability to command. Because Spock and McCoy have different roles not just as characters but as crewmembers, they can give full attention to their respective angles in a way that Kirk alone could not without it looking like he was dithering, with the bonus that you can write it all as a natural (and entertaining) conversation rather than it coming off as forced exposition. You don’t need to have those kinds of discussions all the time--there are plenty of times when one or more of the trio is absent and things tick along just fine--but there are also times, IMO, when someone being missing or just poorly written makes things falter quite obviously, Where No Man Has Gone Before being the biggest example that comes to mind.

But instead of having Kirk be in the middle of this spectrum I may have just sort of made up, the AOS movies seem to take the tack of having Spock be at one end and Kirk at the other end. They’re portrayed as being complete opposites to such an extent that they’re at odds practically the minute they meet, and spend the entire first movie at each other’s throats because AOS!Kirk’s brash, reckless, emotion-driven, rules-ignoring personality clashes incompatibly with Spock being deliberate, logical, and law-abiding to the letter. There’s absolutely no indication in TOS that Kirk and Spock ever had that kind of relationship or that they had to get over any sense of rivalry before they became friends. Granted, TOS had such a lackadaisical approach to backstory that we don’t really know anything about how they did become friends, but we are told on more than one occasion (which, for TOS, is practically hammering the point in) that Kirk was himself was so serious and focused as a student (”positively grim”) that he attracted bullying for it. In other words, for as little solid backstory as we get, one thing TOS is clear on is that Kirk did not have an arc of being reckless and wild and having to learn some patience and sense--if anything he seems to have had an arc in the complete opposite direction, although not so much that he isn’t still a total workaholic.

So that of course very much impacts Kirk and Spock’s characterizations and dynamic, but it also impacts McCoy, because by sticking Kirk in McCoy’s usual role, McCoy himself is now left with very little to do but make snarky comments and stick hyposprays in people from time to time (which he does very well, but, still). Which is sort of both cause and effect, because the fact that the writers put Kirk in that position to begin with indicates to me that they didn’t understand and/or didn’t value the importance of McCoy, specifically, being in that spot in the first place. But it is important that McCoy is in that spot because I love him and he deserves it because McCoy as a character is in a much more natural position to serve that role than Kirk is.

This may seem like a tangent, but stick with me here: McCoy inherently has a different perspective towards Starfleet than Kirk. Than everyone in the main cast, really, but especially Kirk. Kirk’s character, his perspective, his role in life, his arc, his backstory, all are closely tied to his being in Starfleet. Kirk’s position in relation to Starfleet is so important that it’s part of if not the entirety of practically every bit of story or backstory he has. When we hear about Kirk’s history, we mostly hear about it in terms of where he was in Starfleet at the time: at the Academy, serving his first assignment as an ensign, being a lieutenant on the Farragut, etc. Kirk’s career is very much on his mind all the time and threats to it are the subject of conflict multiple times, not because he cares about climbing in rank for rank’s sake but because he needs that career, and that good relationship with Starfleet, to do the thing he is most meant to do in life: be a starship captain. It’s not a position he could have outside of Starfleet--maybe he could go command an independent ship of some kind, but it wouldn’t be the same thing, not really. Kirk’s not meant to be doing supply runs or carrying passengers or what have you; he wants to explore, he wants to be out there checking out the weirdest shit the universe has to offer, he wants to be doing something important. This is why it’s such a big deal that Kirk is willing to sacrifice his career to save Spock in the movies, because that career is his life.

Yes, Kirk doesn’t always agree with Starfleet, and he’s willing to break their rules if he really has to. But Kirk could never exist in the position he is in TOS, and he certainly couldn’t maintain that position, if he couldn’t agree with Starfleet on most things, and conduct himself in a way that they in turn found agreeable. You don’t get to be the captain of one of the most important ships in the fleet by fucking around. And he didn’t. He worked his ass off to get there! TOS Kirk might be a bit young to be a captain but not so much so that he didn’t have to climb up the ranks the old-fashioned way to get there. Meanwhile AOS had to have Kirk sneak onto a ship he wasn’t supposed to be on and then get rid of practically everyone else on said ship, right up to provoking the acting captain into a fistfight, to get Kirk into a position where it would be remotely plausible for him to be in command of the Enterprise. In AOS Kirk is characterized as being so at odds with Starfleet and the Starfleet way of doing things that it takes some very extreme circumstances to get him in a position to command the ship because there’s no way Starfleet would have actually chosen for him to do that.

The reason I’m putting all this emphasis on Starfleet is that in TOS, when it comes to questions of Following The Rules vs Doing What’s Right, Starfleet is the rules. If it’s a matter of Lawful vs Chaotic, Starfleet is going to be the law. Any time the characters are in a situation where they have to ask “Is it the right thing to do what the rules say we should be doing here? Could the rules be wrong?” the rules they’re debating are almost always going to be Starfleet rules. (When it comes to following non-Starfleet rules it’s usually not so much a moral matter as “okay following the rules might be the only way we’ll get this done but we’re not going to act like we like or agree with those rules.”)

So when it comes to putting a character in the position of being the one who’s emotional rather than logical, who’s the voice of Hang The Rules, I’m Doing The Right Thing, who’s there to say things that need to be said but aren’t really appropriate to just say in the societal rules we’re working under here--Kirk can do that to some degree, but it really doesn’t make sense for him to be the one on the far end of that spectrum. To have been in the Starfleet environment as long as he has, and to have been as successful in that environment as he has, he has to be someone who can thrive in that environment, who finds it more acceptable to work with than not, or at least can do a good job faking it.

But McCoy? McCoy’s coming at it from a completely different angle. McCoy didn’t join Starfleet out of any kind of lifelong pursuit, he basically did it on impulse because fuck it, he had nothing better to do with his life at the time. Being in Starfleet informs McCoy’s characterization far less than everyone else’s in the show; mostly it just informs his current physical location. His identity isn’t really wrapped up in being Starfleet personnel. His identity is wrapped up in being a doctor. He was a doctor long before he was Starfleet, and when being in Starfleet stops being a viable option he goes to be a doctor somewhere else (and to make regrettable fashion choices but that’s another topic entirely).

There’s a lot of little ways that McCoy shows that he doesn’t care a whole lot about the Starfleet way of doing things. He’s casually insubordinate to people who seriously outrank him. He inserts himself into situations and discussions that aren’t what his actual job calls for--there’s no real reason why the CMO would need to hang out on the bridge all the time but there he is. He complains about the dress uniforms. He usually forgoes referring to other crewmembers by their ranks if he can get away with using their first name instead. He doesn’t even sit right.

[ID: 1. McCoy sitting on the edge of Spock’s console on the bridge, 2. McCoy sitting on the edge of the briefing table with a cup of coffee, 3. McCoy sitting sideways in a shuttle chair while talking to Spock.]

And he has very little interest in his own rank, or in commanding anyone, or in generally behaving as if he’s a member of a military organization, something reflected in the fact that he in turn hardly ever gets referred to by his actual rank. McCoy is okay with ordering people around as a doctor--he’ll pull rank to get someone in for a physical, or make them sit down and rest when they’re injured, Jim, and since he has to he’ll run the rest of the medical department, whatever there is of it. But I think he sees that first and foremost as being a doctor, who just happens to have a few extra tools at his disposal to make his patients behave so hey, might as well use ‘em. But on the one occasion* when he’s called upon to actually act as a ranking officer in a completely non-doctoring-related matter, he gets so flustered about the whole thing that he has to ask the person he’s supposed to be ordering if he did it right. He’s not really interested in being in charge of anyone in any formal sense.

*The one occasion in the main show, at least, which doesn’t take into account Diane Duane’s extremely excellent novel Doctor’s Orders, in which McCoy winds up in charge of the Enterprise because Shenanigans, and spends the rest of the book having a massive extended anxiety attack about it. It’s so great.

So McCoy doesn’t look at things tactically in the same way that Kirk does. He doesn’t have to. It’s not his job. Not to say that McCoy never has to make any hard decisions, but as a character he functions much better than Kirk as the one who’s looking at the emotional aspect of things because most of the time, McCoy’s not the one who has to turn The Right Thing To Do into standing orders for 430 people that can actually be practically acted upon. He tends to have a more immediate, short-range focus, contrasting the way Spock tends to look at the biggest picture and Kirk, again, lands somewhere in the middle. McCoy thinks about individual people first and foremost. If the Enterprise is about to get into a skirmish with a Klingon ship, Kirk has to be thinking about what the outcome of that battle will mean for Federation-Klingon relations, about what he can do now that might save more lives down the road even if it puts some in danger right now, but McCoy will be thinking about the people who are about to be hurt, maybe killed, right now. Which is a great perspective for a doctor to have, and an important perspective for a captain to keep in mind, but it could never be the only perspective for a captain.

McCoy’s viewpoint is a very important one in the Watsonian sense that it’s useful for Kirk and in the Doylist sense that it contributes to the specific tone that TOS wanted to achieve. But it’s a viewpoint that has to be balanced for it to be effective both practically speaking and in story-telling terms. AOS missed that balance; by putting all their emphasis on Kirk and Spock being opposites they made McCoy more or less redundant. Which is a crying shame, because it’s an unforgivable waste of Karl Urban’s goddamn amazing performance. The thought of what he could have done if he’d had something more to work with is heartbreaking to me.

But McCoy goes unappreciated far too often in general. You know I once went looking for a TOS McCoy Funko Pop and they didn’t have one? They had a generic Andorian but they didn’t have McCoy. It’s an outrage! I had to make my own out of a Munny.

#interaction tag #trek-tracks #star trek talk #star trek AOS