#they have their wits and they are going to use them!!”

[moondirti]

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

#i ran out of steam towards the end could you tell #ghostsoap #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #ghostsoap x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #call of duty

[loveyourownsmiilee]

I could never ever close on Buddie. These fuckers dead ass introduced Eddie through Buck’s pov, while he’s half naked, and “Whatta Man” is playing in his head. That’s how you fucking introduce a love interest. I’m not believing for one second that there were no plans for Buddie in the beginning bc point blank you don’t introduce a new character like that and not have them be a love interest. Especially when you zoom in on another character that can possibly be the love interest. And in the place of a previous love interest who’s no longer around. Anyone can talk all they want but some of the most romantic scenes on this show have included Buck and Eddie. That shooting scene? The entire thing was sooo romantically coded and they were the only two there. Eddie fucking reaching out to Buck as he’s slowly losing consciousness? Buck doing everything he can to keep Eddie with him? That’s some of the most romantic shit we’ve seen on this show. They have been paralleling the other main couples for yearssss. They’re co-parenting a child together. Eddie literally put Buck in his fucking will as his child’s legal guardian which is the equivalent of a fucking love confession, considering romance novels are also using that kind of thing as a love confession. This is one of the greatest slow burn love stories that we are witnessing in the history of television and it’s so beautiful to see. And now we have one half confirmed to be queer which means it’s closer than ever. Whether it was truly intentional or not, the actors themselves see the beautiful bond those two characters have and continue to breathe life into them in such an authentic and gentle way. They have been leaning into that role even without prior knowledge or guidance bc even they can see what a beautiful story they’re telling for Buck and Eddie. And it’s so wholesome to see two masculine men who explore and embrace their sexualities later on in life. And that they happened to find that love and connection with their best friend possibly. Yall cannot catch me closing on these two ever because no fucking partner can match the love and commitment they have to each other. They are going to go down in history as one of the greatest love stories on television. We’re all here witnessing history being made.

#buddie #I took some pain meds and my minds racinggggg #like yall cannot and will not ever catch me closing #this is happening #give me buddie or give me hell #jujus having thoughts

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Sup, can i ask for a request headcanons for Idia with an S/O who's similar to Meg from Hercules? Basically free-spirited, independent, quick-witted, and snarky, who would do everything for her lovely boyfriend even going as far as to protect him from any bullies and such.

Idia Shroud:

You are mildly intimidating to him. While your personality is one he finds attractive, he still can’t help but pause when he thinks about talking to you or interacting in any way that might have your full attention on him. He has seen the carnage from your snark, the way you could make even the most confident man crumble if they proved themselves a fool, and he doesn’t want Ortho to have to scoop up his remains if he failed his charisma check.

Now after you’re together is a different story. He’s still in awe of your quick-witted abilities but even moreso when it’s used to protect him. He won’t claim he needed the protecting, or that most people even bothered him as he knew he was far smarter than they could ever dream of being, but it was satisfying to see them get humbled so quickly. It does stress him out when it draws even more attention to the conversation, especially if it escalates beyond a few snarky remarks tossed back and forth, and he’s quick to pull you away before things go too far.

Whenever he thinks about you he feels like he’s head over heels, even after dating for a day. It’s like working through all the side routes in an otome game to finally reach the main love interest, the true end, the place the story had been leading to all along. He had waited for you for a long time, and gone through many heart-wrenching moments, but it finally felt like his life was coming together exactly the way it should.

#Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader

[pin-k-ink]

Nakahara Chuuya X Reader

CW: highly suggestive themes, alcohol consumption, chuuya being down bad, fingering, grinding, unprotected sex

You sat idly in front of him, your lithe hands housing a glass of wine. You mindlessly twirled the contents around, watching as the red liquid sloshed within the confines of the glass, unaware that Chuuya had been ogling you the entire night. You couldn't exactly blame him, though. Ever since the both of you joined the mafia, Chuuya had always been used to seeing you in hoodies and sweatpants. You were hardly the type to dress up for parties, much less attend them. Even after seven years of working together, it had taken Chuuya considerable effort to drag you out of your office and into this extravagant soirée.

Chuuya's main motivation for insisting on your attendance was simple: he didn't want to be the only one stuck entertaining the drunk old men at the party, who seemed only interested in boasting about their latest torture techniques and the groups they had recently slaughtered. It was tiring, listening to their incessant chatter about violence and cruelty. He knew the only way he'd make it through the night with his sanity intact was if you were by his side. Which is why he had shown up at your room earlier, a stunning dress in hand - because he was absolutely sure you wouldn't be caught dead with a party dress in your closet.

Initially, it had taken some convincing to get you to wear the dress. You were stubborn, resistant to the idea of dressing up for an event you had no interest in attending. But after a few well-placed bribes and a bit of persistent coaxing from Chuuya, you finally folded, agreeing to don the elegant attire he had so carefully selected for you.

Now, as Chuuya's eyes drank in the sight of you, he was starting to regret his decision to buy you that particular dress. It wasn't that you looked bad - quite the contrary, actually. The plain black fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the deep v-neckline revealing just enough cleavage to make his mouth go dry, while the high slit up the side of the skirt allowed for tantalizing glimpses of your toned legs as you moved. No, the problem wasn't that you looked bad. The problem was that you looked too good.

Chuuya found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you, his eyes tracing the lines of your body, committing every detail to memory. The way the dim lights of the room cast shadows across your face, accentuating your delicate features. The way your hair, normally tied back in a practical ponytail, now cascaded down your back in soft, lustrous waves. The way your lips, painted a deep shade of red to match the wine in your glass, curved into a small, enigmatic smile as you surveyed the room.

Maybe it was the fact that he had always wanted to see you look your best, to witness the transformation from the practical, no-nonsense colleague he had grown so accustomed to working alongside, to this stunning vision before him. Maybe it was because he had desperately wanted to see you in a dress, to have the opportunity to admire the feminine curves that were so often hidden beneath baggy clothing. Or maybe, just maybe, it was secretly because he had wanted to match with you, to present a united front to the rest of the mafia, to show that you were a team, both on and off the job.

But one thing was clear: Chuuya definitely regretted buying you that dress. Because now, all he could think about was peeling it off of you, slowly, savoring every inch of your naked body. He wanted to run his hands along your sides, to feel the warmth of your body beneath his fingertips. He wanted to pull you close, to breathe in the scent of your perfume, to taste the wine on your lips as he claimed them with his own.

Chuuya shook his head, trying to dispel the inappropriate thoughts that had taken root in his mind. You were his colleague, his partner. He couldn't let his attraction to you compromise the professional relationship you had built over the years. But as he watched you take another sip of your wine, your throat bobbing gently as you swallowed, he knew that it was going to be a long, torturous night, one filled with stolen glances and barely restrained desire.

He could only hope that you remained oblivious to the effect you were having on him, that you continued to sit there, idly twirling your wine, blissfully unaware of the hunger in his eyes and the fire in his veins. Because if you ever found out just how badly he wanted you, Chuuya knew that there would be no going back, no pretending that things could ever be the same between you again.

With a sigh, Chuuya tore his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the boring conversations happening around him. He would endure this party, this night, with the same stoic professionalism he brought to every aspect of his life. But deep down, he knew that his feelings for you, the desire that burned within him, would not be so easily ignored. And as the night wore on, he found himself wondering just how long he could keep his true feelings hidden, before the inevitable happened and the carefully constructed walls between you came crumbling down.

As the night wore on, the party grew more boisterous, the laughter and chatter of the inebriated guests filling the air. You and Chuuya exchanged a knowing glance, both feeling the weight of the evening's tedium pressing down upon you. Without a word, you rose from your seat, tilting your head towards the exit in a silent invitation. Chuuya nodded, relief flooding through him as he followed you out of the crowded room and into the cool night air.

You walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the party fading into the background as you made your way back to your shared apartment. Once inside, you kicked off your heels, sighing in relief as your feet were freed from their confines. Chuuya loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he watched you move about the room, your dress swishing around your legs with every step.

"I need a drink," you declared, making your way to the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of red wine. Chuuya followed, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard and setting them down on the counter. You poured the rich, crimson liquid into each glass, the aroma of the wine wafting up to fill the air between you.

You picked up your glass, swirling the contents before bringing it to your lips. But as you tilted your head back to take a sip, a small trickle of wine escaped the corner of your mouth, trailing down your chin and along the smooth column of your throat. Chuuya's eyes followed the path of the errant droplet, transfixed by the sight of the dark liquid against your skin.

Without thinking, Chuuya leaned in, his tongue darting out to catch the wayward drop of wine. You gasped at the sudden contact, your eyes widening as Chuuya's mouth brushed against your throat, his tongue lapping at your skin. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your pulse quickening as Chuuya's lips traveled upwards, tracing the line of your jaw before finally capturing your mouth in a searing kiss.

The taste of the wine mingled with the unique flavor of you, and Chuuya found himself intoxicated by the heady combination. His hands came up to cup your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth. You responded in kind, your own hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the sensations he was evoking.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, the world around you fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against your own. When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily, your chests heaving as you fought to catch your breath.

Chuuya rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching your face for any sign of regret or uncertainty. But all he saw was a mirror of his own desire, a hunger that matched the fire burning within him. Slowly, a smile spread across your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief and promise.

"Well," you murmured, your voice low and husky, "that was unexpected."

Chuuya chuckled, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip. "But not unwelcome, I hope?"

You shook your head, your smile widening. "Definitely not unwelcome."

And with that, you pulled him back in for another kiss, the wine forgotten as you lost yourselves in each other, eagerly stripping down to your skin as you both stumble onto the couch.

As you stumble back onto the couch, Chuuya reaches for the bottle of wine once more. He pulls back just enough to tilt your head gently, exposing the smooth expanse of your throat. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he tips the bottle, allowing a thin stream of the dark liquid to trickle onto your skin, tracing a path down the elegant column of your neck. The alcohol drips further still, pooling on the swell of your breasts before continuing to fall into your lap.

You squirm at the sensation, a shiver running through your body.

Chuuya sets the bottle aside, and leans forward, licking a broad stripe up the side of your neck. A quiet moan falls from your lips as his mouth latches onto your heated skin, sucking softly, the sting of teeth following close behind. He follows the trail of spilled wine with his tongue, humming in appreciation as you squirm and whimper beneath his attentions.

Reaching the edge of your breasts, he pauses, and looks up at you through long, thick lashes, a devious smirk gracing his features. Without warning, he tugs your dress down and dips his head, his lips latching firmly around your nipple, sucking harshly. You gasp and arch up, your hand flying to his hair, tangling in the silky strands, tugging lightly. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, and he pulls back, blowing a soft puff of air across it. You shudder at the sensation, the cool air against the wet skin making you even more sensitive.

Chuuya continues, his mouth moving to the other side, and the heat that has been building in your core threatens to boil over.

"Chuuya, please..." you whisper breathlessly, tugging his hair, pulling him up towards you. He obliges, moving upwards to capture your lips once more, his tongue delving deep, exploring the cavern of your mouth. He shifts, his knee parting your legs, pressing firmly between your thighs.

The delicious friction sends a spark straight to your core, and you cant your hips upwards, searching for more.

His hand slides from your waist to your thigh, fingers trailing lightly along the sensitive flesh.

Your hips buck upwards again, and he grips you, squeezing gently, urging you to keep moving. He breaks the kiss, leaning back slightly. "Go ahead, beautiful, I want to watch you," he murmurs.

You meet his gaze, his eyes dark with lust.

Swallowing hard, you lift your hips again, grinding against his knee. Your hand fists in the fabric of the couch as you set a slow, steady rhythm.

Chuuya hums, pleased, and trails his fingers higher, dancing along the edge of your underwear, teasing you. You gasp, speeding up, feeling the tension coiling low in your stomach, the heat radiating from your core.

His fingers dip inside, sliding along the seam of your panties, and your breath hitches. He strokes you through the thin fabric, applying pressure right where you need it, and you cry out, your head falling back, the coil winding tighter.

"That's it, princess, just like that."

Your hips snap faster, the coil about to burst, and then his hand is gone.

"Ah!" you whine, your movements slowing.

"Don't stop," he growls.

He yanks your underwear to the side, his fingers circling your clit, his other hand grabbing your hip, urging you forward once more. Your legs quiver and shake as he presses against you, the tension in your core so tight it's almost painful.

His fingers slide lower, one digit slipping inside your soaked entrance, curling and rubbing as his thumb continues to flick over your clit. Your hands claw at the couch, your breathing heavy and ragged, the pressure building.

Chuuya slips another finger inside, pressing deeply, stretching you, his pace quickening, the friction so good, you're teetering on the edge, but not quite enough to push you over. Your hips cant forward, desperate, chasing your release, and his thumb rubs in quick, tight circles, the coil winding so tight you're ready to snap.

"Chuuya, please! Ah... Please, I need you!" you beg, your voice broken and ragged.

He removes his hand from your hip, and grabs the hem of your panties, tugging them down, tossing them carelessly behind him. He reaches for the button of his slacks, but you're already moving, scrambling to straddle his lap. Your hand covers his, pushing him back, and you fumble with the zipper, pulling it down. He raises his hips, shoving the fabric down, and his cock springs free.

You take him in hand, giving him a few strokes, and you feel his breath hitch.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathes.

Your eyes lock, and there's a tenderness in his gaze, a moment of sincerity and vulnerability, a stark contrast to the lust and desire from moments before.

Your heart skips a beat, and you lean forward, kissing him softly. He moans, deepening the kiss, his tongue delving deep, and his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. You line him up, and sink down, slowly, letting him fill you.

A moan escapes your lips, the feeling of him stretching and filling you so good, and you break the kiss, panting. He rests his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him, holding you tight.

"You're amazing," he whispers, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You giggle softly, and lean in, kissing him deeply.

You start to move, a slow, steady rhythm, and his hand slides down to grip your hips, guiding your movements. He rolls his hips up, matching your pace, his cock hitting so deep, and a soft whimper falls from your lips.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, and pick up the pace, your hands sliding around to grip his shoulders. His hands move to your ass, squeezing and kneading, helping you move, the tension in your core mounting, the coil about to snap.

You roll your hips forward, the delicious friction sending sparks up your spine, the knot in your stomach tightening, and your movements falter.

"Ah! Chuuya... I-I'm so close..." you whimper.

"Yeah, princess? Do you want to cum?"

"Y-yes," you breathe.

"Then, do it, let go for me," he growls.

With a loud moan, your head falls back, your body tensing, every nerve alight with pleasure, as the coll winds so tight it can't take anymore, snapping, the tension exploding throughout your body. Your legs tremble, and you cry out, your hips jerking erratically.

"Yes, fuck, that's it, baby, good girl," Chuuya groans, his thrusts quickening, his cock twitching and pulsing, the feeling of your walls clenching and fluttering around him, taking him over the edge.

His grip tightens, and his hips jerk, thrusting up hard, as he comes with a grunt.

You both stay there for a moment, holding each other, panting heavily, as you come down from the high.

After a moment, you lift off him and collapse into his lap, completely spent. He wraps his arms around you and chuckles softly. "Wow," he murmurs, "that was... incredible."

You can't help but grin. "Mmmm... you're not so bad yourself, mister." You tap him teasingly on the nose.

"Oh yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Just wait 'til next time. I'll really blow your mind."

"Next time, huh? Awfully confident, aren't we?" you joke, nestling contentedly against his chest. "I suppose I could pencil you in..."

He laughs and pulls you closer, dropping a tender kiss on your forehead. "Sounds like a date."

#bsd x reader smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya smut #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions: of drug use, drug dealing, stripping, prostitution, drug overdose, seizures, organized crime.

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: After using your quick wit and computer skills to get you both out of a sticky situation, Tony offered you a job, and a beautiful friendship was born.

A/N: And we are ON THE MISSION! Welcome to Atlantic City, besties!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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The Wiggle Room was nothing like Beantown Burlesque, of that you were certain. For a stripclub, Beantown had still managed to cater to a relatively upscale clientele, demanding exorbitant cover charges, selling overpriced drinks, and charging a premium for lap and private dances– hell, Tony Stark had gone there. And they never, ever, encouraged you to take on any ‘extra’ services for customers. Sure, clients asked, but girls were fired for accepting, and if a client wouldn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer, Beantown’s bouncers were more than happy to send them flying out the door on their asses.

You quickly learned that The Wiggle Room played by an entirely different set of rules when a customer asked if he could snort a line of coke off of your ass during your first shift. Everyone, it seemed, was high on some kind of drug, customers and coquettes alike. It made it surprisingly easy to get information out of people without rousing too much suspicion onto yourself.

Within the first two weeks, you and Sam were able to uncover that most, if not all, of the missing women you were investigating had either been, or tried out to be, dancers, bought drugs, or prostituted themselves out of the club. You were definitely in the epicenter of the disappearances. You positively had the where, but you were still far from discovering the why and the who.

You and Sam had set up a temporary caseboard in the dining nook of the apartment you were using as your safehouse. The two of you had already been good friends, but playing a couple at the club and sharing tight accommodations had intensified the power of your bond, and as you sat in front of the caseboard eating your Chinese takeout together, you couldn’t help but rib one another.

“Lavender definitely has a thing for you,” you pointed your chopsticks at him, referring to one of the club’s older dancers, who, at 45, had taken a shine to the Falcon from the moment he’d taken his position as member of the club’s security team.

“Well, can you blame her?” Sam said, slurping up the noodles of his lo mein. “Hard to resist a good piece of dark chocolate, and Ole Sammy’s a fine box of Godiva.”

You wrinkled up your face. “Okkkay,” you said, “ignoring the fact that there’s so much gross in that statement that I don’t even know where to begin, should I give her your number, then?”

Sam nearly choked on his food. “Absolutely not!” he coughed. “She’s got six kids!”

“Wow, Samuel,” you said, pretending to be offended on Lavender’s behalf, “I didn’t realize you were prejudiced against single moms. Does Sarah, know that fascinating tidbit about you?”

“Nuh-uh, Baby Girl. Don’t you go tryin’ to put words in my mouth. I got nothin’ against single moms– they’re the backbone of this country– but Lavender’s also got six baby daddies she doesn’t know how to quit. I ain’t lookin’ for that kinda drama in my love life, thank you very much.”

You took a bite of your chicken & broccoli. “Fair point,” you conceded. “I’ll allow it.” Sam tipped his head to you in his thanks. 

You let your attention drift back to the board. In addition to photos of the missing women, you’d also managed to populate it with a combination of ID photos and mugshots of the club’s employees and management. As you’d learned the identities of your coworkers, you’d been able to piece the hierarchy of the organization together, but you only got as far as the club’s owner, Vladimir Kozlov. When you’d sent his name and some covert photos back to the Tower, you hadn’t been surprised to receive word back from Natasha that Kozlov had, at one point, been a low-level thug in the Russian mob. What you hadn’t yet been able to decipher, however, was how he kept the club afloat. According to your research, the Wiggle Room was hemorrhaging money, its expenses far surpassing its recorded income, yet Kozlov dressed himself in the finest European suits and drove a seemingly never-ending rotation of sports cars that would rival Tony’s. 

You and Sam had both come to the shared conclusion that Kozlov didn’t have the brain cells to run a successful, let alone lucrative, criminal operation on his own, and therefore, there must be silent partners involved in the club that you’d not yet been able to identify. The drugs that were sold out of the club could account for some of its income, but not nearly enough. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you said, turning back to Sam.

“Why do I feel like someone just walked over my grave when you said that?” he asked you with an exaggerated shiver.

You cocked your head. “Probably because it’s a terrible one.” Nibbling on your lower lip, you debated whether or not to tell him. He was going to hate it, but you couldn’t think of a better way to get closer to Kozlov’s inner circle. “I think I should start buying drugs from Kozlov’s men.”

The look Sam gave you was withering. “Pocket,” he warned, “that’s an actual crime.”

“I’m not going to do them, Sam!” You put down your carton of rice. “I just need to make them think I am. Kozlov keeps the girls that buy from him close– he likes how they come to rely on him. I think it gets his rocks off to have them be dependent on him. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he lets things slip in front of them because they’re too strung out to pay attention.”

Sam seemed to consider your proposal. “I don’t like it, Baby Girl,” he said. “It sounds dangerous. What if he tries to take advantage of you?”

You held up the silver bangle that served as your distress signal. “Then I call for the calvary,” you said. “I won’t actually be high, so I’ll still have my wits about me.”

“So, you think you know enough about gettin’ high to fake it in front of a bunch of drug dealers?” Sam asked, clearly thinking you were overestimating your acting abilities. 

You puffed a breath out of the corner of your mouth. “Yeeeeah. So, here’s the thing… I might have spent a good chunk of my teen years on a variety of illegal substances.”

Sam’s eyebrows went comically high. “Come again for Dark Chocolate?”

How to be truthful yet maintain your sense of dignity here? “Everyone at the Tower knows how my childhood was rough, yeah? That my parents were shit? And that’s the reason I don’t have anything to do with them?” Sam nodded. This much of your past, at least, was common knowledge, and you were more or less keen to leave it that way. “Alright, so, part of that shit was that my mom and her boyfriend were drug addicts. Mom preferred meth and booze, but the boyfriend was less discriminate. He’d do anything if it got him high enough. When he needed me to… let’s say ‘behave,’ he’d give me something, whatever he had on hand. Weed, MDMA, coke, benzos, Special K, opiates. Really didn’t matter to him. The drugs made me easier to control. So, I know how to act like I’m high, because I’ve been high. A lot.”

The look in Sam’s eyes morphed from disappointment at your idea to horror at your revelation. “Fuck. Baby Girl, I had no idea.” You couldn’t meet his gaze; unlike your past as a stripper, this was something you were deeply ashamed of.

“It’s fine, Sam,” you told him, picking your food carton up again just to give you something to focus on. “It was a long time ago.

“What made you stop?” he asked, no judgment, just genuine sincerity in his question.

“Same thing that saved the rest of my sorry ass,” you shrugged, playing with the flaps of the paper carton. “Tony. By that point, though, it was mostly just Adderall to focus on school work and so I could stay awake to take more shifts at the club, and weed for when the Adderall wouldn’t let me sleep.”

“One time, I took too much Adderall to cram for a final, and I had a seizure. Tony had to take me to the hospital, and he was furious– I’ve honestly never seen him so mad. Trust me when I say it made his fight with Cap look like a playground spat. I thought for sure he was going to wash his hands of me. I wouldn't have blamed him.”

The memory of it played through your mind, the sheer disappointment in Tony’s eyes as the doctors told him what they’d found in your system. 

“But, the thing was, Tony blamed himself, said he’d put too much pressure on me. Kept saying he was turning into his father, and he couldn’t have that. So, instead of tossing me out on my ass like he should have, he got me help.”

Sam’s mouth hung open. “I’m sorry, but I think we know two different Tony Starks. This altruism does not jive with the man I work with.”

You smiled and shrugged your shoulders again. “Not my fault he likes me better than you, Samuel. I am a lot cuter.”

“Debatable,” Sam replied before taking a swig of his beer. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “If you don’t think it’s gonna be too much of a temptation for you,” he said after a pause, “I think the drug-buying might work. We can give it a shot, at least.”

You sipped your iced tea. “Won’t be a problem, Sammy. The girl who constantly did that stuff is gone, and she’s not coming back.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[thefrogdalorian]

My Pain Fits In The Palm Of Your Freezing Hand

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: When you and your Mandalorian companion are ambushed by a group of bandits, you hope that his stubborn nature will not make the task of treating his wounds any more difficult than it needs to be. But that is not the only obstacle. You also hope that the depth of your unrequited feelings for Din will not impact on your ability to care for him...

Word Count:  2.2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence briefly described, reader provides first-aid to minor, bloody injuries. ✯ Author's Note: A daydream about holding the stubborn tin can man's hand turned into whatever this is!! I've never written unrequited feelings for Din before but it made my heart ache in the best possible way. Hope you enjoyed!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Once the adrenaline of your latest brush with death subsides, your focus immediately pivots to caring for your Mandalorian companion. Although the heightened emotions leaving your body render you a trembling, shaky mess, your priority is to ensure his well-being. Maker knows he will never take care of himself.

As you approach the Razor Crest, you mentally scan yourself for painful areas. Casting your mind back towards the encounter as you try to recall anywhere you could have been hurt. After all, you will struggle to assist him if you are not healthy.

You recall that you had taken a couple of painful blows to the side during the skirmish, but your clumsy assailants had fortunately missed all of your vital organs. Aside from a pounding heart and dry mouth, you have mercifully made it through the ambush unscathed. 

Satisfied that there are no immediate areas of concern to treat, you turn your attention towards Din. You cast your mind back over the altercation, towards any wounds he may have sustained. It is easier said than done, considering how many of them leapt out of nowhere and caught the two of you off-guard as you walked through the thick forest towards the ship.

You remember how many of them Din fought off with his bare hands. Well, through his gloves. Still, you know they will have provided scant protection, so you are keen to check them for injuries. 

You momentarily struggle to remember what happened after Din had seen most of them off as you crouched behind a bush, hiding. 

Then, you recall how one of your assailants had slashed at Din’s hands when he grabbed the remaining pair of them around the throat. It had been a frenzied attack, which momentarily worked as his grip loosened. Just when you had feared that all hope was lost and they were going to escape, Din brought his boot up to deliver a swift kick in the stomach to the slower of the duo, which sent them careening into each other.

Din had used many parts of his body, as well as all of his wits and expertise as a warrior to see your attackers off. He had done a formidable job, considering how much they had taken you by surprise.

Still, the state of his hands concern you.

You are pretty sure they sustained the most severe damage. Plus, as they are vitally important for everyday function, treating them takes priority.

It is settled... Din’s hands are the first area you will treat. 

If he will let you, that is.

Your Mandalorian companion does not possess a reputation for being the easiest man in the galaxy to take care of... a willing patient, Din Djarin is not.

As the two of you ascend the ramp up to his beloved ship, you hope for both of your sakes that he makes this process as painless as possible.

“Din, sit down and let me get the medkit,” you order when you finally enter the familiar old ship's hull. 

“Let me initiate the launch sequence first,” Din stubbornly responds.

“No,” you reply, shaking your head as you fold your arms, glaring at him.

“Fine,” Din mutters in annoyance. 

It seems your sternness has done the trick. 

Din perches atop a crate as you grab the medkit in preparation to treat his wounds. You hope he does not make it harder for you than necessary. Din has never made any secret that he is comfortable being fussed over. You are no stranger to the fact that he hates being taken care of like this, but if you do not tend to his wounds, you know he will never do so himself. 

“Your gloves,” you nod towards the two-toned leather which covers his hands, “Take them off, Din.”

Din sighs and lifts his gloves beneath his helmet, seemingly biting at each finger to loosen them before repeating the process with his other hand. You feel like a voyeur and wonder whether you should turn your head and look away, as though his gloved hand disappearing beneath his helmet is somehow sacrilegious. Despite your inner turmoil, you cannot help but watch, unable to tear your gaze away until finally, he slides the gloves off and bares his flesh to you. 

It is not the first time Din has removed his gloves in your presence, yet you still feel a thrill travelling across your body at the faintest sight of his skin. 

For Din Djarin’s bare hands provide you with the tiniest peek at the man that lies beneath the cold, hard beskar. To catch a glimpse of the human side of the formidable warrior, the side of him you yearn to know entirely.

You remember how stunned you had been the first time he had removed his gloves in your presence while he was repairing a blaster several months ago. 

You had been sitting elsewhere in the hull as he worked at the bench, tools spread out as he dutifully performed much-needed maintenance on one of his many beloved weapons.

A grunt of frustration indicated that the parts had been far too intricate to repair with his cumbersome gloves. So, he had pulled on each finger one by one, tugging them off. Seemingly uncaring about baring himself, even ever so slightly, in your presence.

You had tried your best not to look, but you had been unable to resist sneaking a glance at who he was underneath his armour. Although for the most part, you kept to yourselves, there was no lingering frostiness in your dynamic. You and Din were amicable, possibly even friends... if he could even have such a thing.

That day, you watched as his hands meticulously repaired his blaster. You noticed the smattering of dark hairs across the back of his hand, the surprisingly tanned skin and the calluses and scars which littered the back of his hand. It was a fascinating glimpse into the man who hid so much of himself from you, yet you still felt you knew enough about him to believe he was, deep down, a good man.

Your mind ran wild with so many questions. Was his skin a similar colour elsewhere on his body, or was it tanned because his hands were the only parts of him that saw the sun? Did the dark hairs on the back of his hand mean that the hair on his head–if he had any–was a similar colour?

They were questions you knew you would likely never get answers to. Nor did you expect to.

When Din had hired you to care for The Child and attend to maintenance on his ship, he had informed you of the rules regarding his armour and helmet. He would remove neither his helmet nor armour in your presence. You were never to question the reasons why or attempt to subvert this stipulation in any way.

That was why glimpsing a sliver of his skin had thrilled you. It had exposed the man you had been yearning to see in a way that was not a violation of his Creed.

Yet, when you see his hands this time the circumstances could not be more different. Neither could the emotions Din’s bare hands provoke in you. 

Rather than feeling a thrill at the sight of his skin, now you cringe when you see the wounds that litter his flesh. His knuckles are split and bloodied, contusions that will surely colour shades of blue and black before eventually healing. There are also angry red gashes in all directions, a result of the bandit’s vibroblade making contact with his hands. 

You steady yourself, mentally preparing for the gargantuan task of providing first aid to a stubborn Mandalorian. Din values all you do for him. You are certain of that fact, even if he does not often vocalise it. Still, having someone take care of him is an uncomfortable prospect for a man who has spent so long leading a solitary, nomadic existence.

When you finally take his calloused, yet soft, skin in your hand, Din sucks in a harsh breath at the sensation. The sound is amplified and crackles slightly through the vocoder. A reminder that, although he has bared some of himself, he is still mostly hidden from you. He feels like more machine than man sometimes.

You take a bacta wipe from your medkit, and the antiseptic’s sour smell lingers unpleasantly in the air. You hold Din’s hand still, as you carefully bring the wipe towards his skin, your brow furrowed in concentration. 

“This is going to sting,” you murmur apologetically. 

Din nods. You hear him inhale deeply as he braces for the first contact with the remedy. You prepare yourself to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to make the process needlessly painful for him. 

At the first touch of the bacta wipe against his bronze skin, he jerks away from your touch, groaning slightly in pain at what you are sure is an uncomfortable, stinging sensation against his cuts.

“Hold still,” you sigh, flashing a disapproving glance in what you hope is the direction of Din’s eyes, hidden by his helmet. 

“Sorry,” he huffs.

You cannot help how your lips curl upwards at the sight of him sulking. This hulking man, all broad shoulders and gleaming beskar, reduced to a wounded child. You wonder if he is pouting beneath his helmet.

Din flinches again when you resume your task, but this time, you do not chastise him. Instead, you are thankful that he is not making this any more difficult than it needs to be. 

At least he has not told you he can look after himself. 

Content with his behaviour, you diligently tend to Din’s wounds. You ensure each one is cleaned thoroughly with the bacta patch and then wrapped in a bandage. It will take a few days to heal, but he will have plenty of time as you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro again. Unfortunately, it will mean he likely has to refrain from being the hands-on father you know he loves to be. 

When your task is almost complete, you move to sit by his side on the crate. You need to steady your hands by placing your elbows against your thighs as you wrap a particularly nasty wound, which already streaks angry red tendrils across two knuckles. 

Din groans again in pain, and you quickly reassure him, “Almost there,” you whisper encouragingly. 

With the task finally completed, you cannot resist gently taking his hand in yours. Ostensibly, to check him for any wounds you have missed. In reality, it is borne out of a selfish desire to feel his skin against yours. Precious contact you had been yearning for since you first laid eyes upon his skin all those months ago. 

If Din notices the way you subtly lace your fingers with his and hold his hand in your lap for a few moments longer than necessary, he does not say a thing. Only when you disentangle your fingers from his grip does he speak again.

When you move to stand up from the crate, he places his arm across your stomach to stop you. You look at him questioningly, wondering what is going on beneath that bucket of metal. 

“Thank you,” Din finally whispers, voice thick with emotion.

You move to open your mouth, to respond. Before you can, Din’s deep voice cuts through the stillness.

“For everything… I…” Din pauses, sighs deeply, then continues, “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

You simply nod, too taken aback to speak. It is unlike Din to be sentimental or emotional, not with anyone other than Grogu. It is part of what makes him such a respected and feared hunter. Yet, here he is, confessing his appreciation for you. It causes hotness to creep up your neck and face, embarrassed by his earnestness. Desperate to respond, but not entirely trusting that you can keep it together. 

“You’re worth it, Din,” you smile, daring to believe that this moment will change something for the two of you. You hope he will finally realise the depth of the feelings you hold for him; that you have always held for him. 

As you take his hand in yours once again, you sit back on the crate. You take up a more comfortable position and daringly lean your head against his shoulder. The pauldron is bitingly cold beneath your cheek. But with how warm your skin suddenly feels at his words, it is an altogether welcome sensation.

Din noticeably inhales at your gesture, and you momentarily fear you have hurt his tender skin. Until he relaxes once again and squeezes your hand as best as he can considering his injuries, a reassuring gesture that soothes your worries.

As you sit there holding hands in the relative darkness of the hull, you imagine a shooting star passing somewhere far in the skies above.

You wish on it and dare to dream that, one day, Din Djarin will love you, too.

Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #pleasE LET ME HOLD HIS HAND AND TAKE CARE OF THIS STUBBORN MAN #JUST ONCE PLEASE I M BEGIGIN YO UU1!!

[nightwolf14292]

Dick Grayson Canon Lore Stuff:

(TW for Batman stuff, like spoilers and mention of injury/death) Hello, I know very little about the canon Batfamily because I can't exactly just read all of the comics (there's way too many, and they're very expensive T-T) so instead I spent like an hour reading the entire Fandom . com entry on Dick Grayson, and this is pretty much my timeline of important events that I got from that (I'm typing this in hopes that it'll help me remember it).

Dick Grayson Canon Lore Stuff:

•From a very young age Dick Grayson was trained as an acrobat, hence his job as a performer in his family's circus act.

•When he was eight years old, he overheard a well known crime boss threaten the circus performers if he wasn't paid by the circus owner. The owner didn't pay him, and that night Dick witnessed his parents high wire snap, leading to both of their deaths. (He felt responsible for not warning them)

•He was put into a juvenile service system, because social services in Gotham were full. In this system he was often beat up by the others, which led to him eventually being put into a Catholic orphanage instead.

•Bruce Wayne adopted him, but Dick didn't want to replace his deceased dad with a 'stuck up' billionaire, plus he felt like Bruce didn't give him enough attention (Probably because Bruce was still dealing with the trauma of his own parents death and didn't like getting attached to people in case he lost them as well), so he snuck out in hopes of solving his parents murder himself.

•He met Batman, also investigating the murder, which led to him finding out that Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same person.

•They find the crime boss, but he 'dies of a heart attack' before he can be arrested.

•Since Bruce saw so much of himself in Dick, he asked the boy if he wanted to become his sidekick and Dick decided to name himself 'Robin' after what his mother used to call him.

•He was trained for six long, hard months before he was allowed to do any real missions, and he had to go through one full night eluding Batman without help before he was allowed to officially become Robin.

•For the first year or so Dick had a lot of fun with his job, and treated it as a fun adventure he and Bruce participated in together.

•That was until he had a fight with Two-Face, in which Batman and the DA were both stuck in nooses. Dick cut the rope around the DA with a Batarang, but Two-Face had crafted a double trap and this made the floor fall out so the DA landed in a pit of water in which he drowned. This was Dick's first time witnessing an on-the-job death which would serve to haunt him for years to come, plus he got himself a beating from Two-Face (Okay but like, wouldn't he have been like 9 or 10 max Jeezums- 😭🖐).

•Bruce temporarily 'fired' Dick, not wanting to see him get hurt any more.

•Dick served as Robin for a while longer, still working with Bruce and also forming his own Titans team.

•When Dick was 17 he got shot in his shoulder by the Joker, which prompted Bruce to officially fire him out of fear for his safety. Dick decided that he didn't need Batman anymore, plus he had some issues with the way Bruce did things, so he moved from Gotham to New York to be more involved with the Titans, and he dropped out of highschool.

•Bruce didn't really like this, and told Dick that if he was no longer going to work with him he would have to retire the Robin title. Dick left Wayne Manor afterwards, and handed over leadership of the Titans to Wondergirl.

•Unsure of himself and what he should do now, yet not wanting to give up crime fighting now that it was such a big part of his life, he went to find Superman. For a brief while Dick stayed with Superman, and Superman told him of a Krypton hero who had been known as Nightwing. Because of this time with Clark, Dick decided to finally become his own hero free of Batman. He named himself Nightwing after the Krypton hero, and made himself a costume based off of something his father once wore back in the circus.

•Now as Nightwing he helped lead the Titans, though his relationship with Starfire was worsening over time.

•Jason's death was a bit of a turning point in his character. Even though originally he hadn't seemed to like Jason (mainly because Jason acted as his replacement, and because of his not so great relationship with Bruce) Dick seemed to grow into a kinder/gentler person after the event.

•A while after this, Dick discovered that the mob boss who had killed his parents was not actually dead but was in a coma instead. Dick went looking for him, but witnessed him being gunned down before he had a chance to do anything for himself. Bruce claimed that he was worried that Dick would seek revenge for his parents death if he knew the truth, so he told the young boy that the mod boss was dead instead. Dick was obviously upset because of this, and his relationship with Bruce stayed strained.

•While he was still serving with the Titans, Tim Drake sought him out and asked him to return to being Robin (Because after Jason's death Bruce was going crazy without a Robin by his side), but Dick refused because of his bad relationship with Bruce and his enjoyment for his current job. He did help Tim become Robin, though.

•A lot of bad things happened with the Titans, people passed, people left, people changed, but Dick fought to stay the heart and center of the team through it all.

•Despite their strained relationship, Dick tried to impulsively marry Starfire, but the ceremony was interrupted, which eventually led to Starfire leaving and returning to her home planet.

•Bruce was brutally injured by Bane, but because his relationship with Dick was so bad and he didn't want to 'force' his son to return, he temporarily gave the Batman title to the not-so-stable Jean Paul Valley, with Tim there to help him out. Jean proved too unstable, however, and Dick returned to Gotham to help Tim deal with him. Dick decided to step away from the Titans to focus on Gotham, and the still healing Bruce asked him to be Batman until he was alright again which Dick agreed to.

•During his time acting as Batman, Dick built a great brotherly relationship with Tim. In addition, Bruce admitted that he hadn't originally asked Dick to act as Batman for him because he didn't want to force him to come back, and the two finally began to fix their relationship.

•Dick pretends to be a villain working under Deathstroke for a while, until Deathstroke betrays him and kills at least 100,000 people with a bomb. Dick tries to find and help any survivors, but is unable to because of the radiation which weighs heavily on his mind. He also proposes to Barbara Gordon around this time.

•Dick recovers and Bruce asks him to join him and his current Robin in rediscovering his roots. Dick is hesitant, but Barbara insists that he helps, and suspends their engagement for the time being.

•Dick returns to the Titan's tower, because there's someone there pretending to be him. Turns out it's the revived Jason Todd!

•While on a case, he gets buried alive by a mysterious voice that tells him he's 'supposed to be dead'. He has a hard time finding work because he's in a cast, and is having some trouble due to his injuries.

•By this point his relationship with both Bruce and Tim have improved dramatically, and he's close with both of them.

•The Titans decide to reform their group.

•Okay I'm gonna try and put this as simply as possible… Bruce was targeted by a group called 'Black Glove', supposedly going insane and running away. Dick doesn't want Tim to have to deal with everything himself, so he returns. He gets kidnapped and drugged by the International Club of Villains and is scheduled for a lobotomy, but gets out of it because Bruce's 'insanity' was made up to expose the Black Glove. Batman fights with Doctor Hurt on a helicopter, but the helicopter explodes. Batman is fine and works with the Justice League, but then is seemingly killed in his confrontation with Darkseid. In his will, Bruce begs Dick not to become Batman. Because of his refusal to become Batman, someone else takes up the job instead, calling himself Batman but using lethal methods that Bruce would never allow. This 'Batman' is actually Jason Todd, who shoots Damian and almost kills Tim with a Batarang. Dick and Jason fight and Dick shoves Jason off of a speeding train, seemingly killing him though Jason says they'll 'Meet again soon'. Dick finally decides to become the official Batman, but refuses to make Tim his Robin because according to him, he sees Tim as his equal and not his sidekick. He instead makes Damian his new Robin, which of course pisses off Tim. Tim, believing Bruce to be alive, takes up Jason's old Red Robin mantle and goes searching for Bruce. Dick moves base because the Batcave reminds him too much of Bruce, and struggles because Damian is constantly reminding and taunting him over the fact that he will never truly be able to replace his father. When he next fights Jason, Jason remarks that if the Lazarus pit could revive him, it could revive Bruce too as he's being arrested.

There's quite a bit of stuff that happens in between here, most notably the death of a young boy called Baby D which influences Dick's future character, but since I've been typing for hours:

Thinking about what Jason said, Dick takes Bruce's body from his grave and takes him to the Lazarus Pit. While it does reanimate the corpse, the revived 'Bruce' is angry and violent. This is because it was never Bruce at all, it was actually a clone of him. This gives Dick, Damian, and Alfred a similar hope to Tim, that Bruce is actually still alive. Tim brings evidence that Bruce is actually lost in time, and after a bit of digging and more evidence finding, they manage to bring Bruce back.

•Dick finally becomes Nightwing again, now with red on his costume which reflects his darker and more grim outlook on life and humanity after his time as Batman.

•Nightwing gets stabbed on a mission.

•He also, on a different mission, momentarily dies but they manage to start his heart again.

•Dick puts down his Nightwing title for a while and becomes a secret agent for Bruce, but the wiki has no info on this.

•Dick goes back to being Nightwing, finally returning to his original black and blue suit instead of the black and red one. He reforms the titans, but after working with them for a bit, but ends up moving back to Blüdhaven soon after.

•Someone is sent to assassinate Dick, and he gets shot in the head. He manages to survive, though he has amnesia and for a brief while becomes 'Ric Grayson' until he gets his memories back. When Ric tries to restore his memories he is kidnapped by the Joker who brainwashes him into believing that he was the Joker's sidekick, though he's eventually rescued and gets his memories back. After this event, he officially rejoins the Batman Family as Nightwing.

•There's no info after this.

Grrrrr I might do this for the other characters but idk because this took forever and I am tired lmao

#batman #dick grayson #richard grayson #nightwing #dick grayson lore #nightwing lore #batman comics #dc comics #lore #Canon #canon character #batman and robin #bat fam #batboys #batbros #batdad #batfam #bat family #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #batman dc #batsiblings #dc batfam #dc batman #the batfam

[sgiandubh]

Speed Bonnie Boat

The irony has not escaped me, that Baby and I finally made it back home on the 278th anniversary of the Battle of Culloden. Of course, nothing of this was planned - how could we? it's way above our heads, literally -, but didn't we laugh, Baby and me and Shipper Mom, finally content to have all the menagerie in one place, now cracking at its seams with unpacked boxes, tchotchkes, and irrelevant shite (why did I even pack this?).

You know this land is your land, when you finally start to see this, through the windshield: the glorious canola fields of the Deep South, near the Danube - my grandma's feisty, quick-witted and generous people's territory.

Uncharacteristically, I realized I came to Athens on a very unlikely Dubliner autumn and went back home on a very unlikely early summer April. Helps with the overall surreal impression:

All the roads leading to Rome, we can almost say "Hello, the house" in this pic. Smack dab downtown, where everything happens:

And then, the Jihad, between Lola the corgi and Baby the 'beige' (Greek passport says so) lab. This old lady is not really thrilled:

And for much of the rest of the tired, yawny human evening, the state of play was protracted war and a difficult Yalta negotiation of sorts:

Pasha ran in the shadows of the kitchen corridor. Nothing to report yet and unable to document properly: at night, all cats are black, says the Chinese proverb.

I have roughly two months to make this happen. For now, they can work with staying together in the same room and I think the one who's going to offer a truce is the Greek. With all this, I forgot to pour myself that Laphroaig. #Silly

'Carried the lad who's born to be king/Over the sea to Skye...'

PS: To all of you who offered their warmth and thoughts and even prayers, let it be known you are deeply loved by all of us. This land is also yours, my house is your house. No questions asked. We're good people. You will always find a spot for the outlander at a Romanian table and we like them long and boisterous. Mark me.

#psa #life as is #Diplodog

[gdn019283]

having tumblr to me means being weak over merthur. so today we’ll talk about “servant of two masters” and if what i’m about to say is something that has already been pointed out by someone else, let me know. we’re all aware of the excruciating reminder that in this episode, arthur hugs merlin for the first time and merlin will never remember it because he was enchanted. but i also believe he’ll never remember another thing of equal importance. in the entire episode, we are the ones to witness for the first time what arthur does/says while he is changing/working alongside merlin, more than previous times. i like to think that he actually thought he’d lost him forever this once that when he comes back, he wants to be with him all the time but also has to make sure who could be the potential traitor amongst EVERYONE in camelot. (sort of the main plot in season four because of the slimy bastard agravaine) HE EVEN DOUBTS HIS KNIGHTS. the noblest and most loyal knights ever that HE HAD CHOSEN and HE DOUBTS THEM. example: “what do you think about Percival?” and merlin answers with “big”. he had asked constantly about merlin’s opinion. he cares so much that he talks with him all the time, asking for what he thinks and telling him: “you’re the only one i know i can trust”. or “so. what do you think. merlin?” when he’s changing behind the screen and doesn’t receive any answer. my point is: for the first time ever, arthur communicates with merlin. he is honest, open in any possible way (“you’re not merlin”) but the best part is that WE SEE IT. we see what happens when they’re both in arthur’s chambers; when merlin has to help him prepare for council, banquets ecc. they talk about the kingdom, about the knights and the court and of course, arthur “values merlin’s opinion above all other’s” (we love mithian in this household) and even for us sometimes it’s hard to grasp because we never see that part, when they’re both alone AND THEY TALK this time and for so long, which we only watch during specific and needed scenes, like when arthur had banished gwen and he was sad or when he had to make amend for destroying the druid camp and killing the people that lived in it. the saddest part? what if arthur had been so scared to lose him this time around, that he wanted to listen to him for the next days and what if arthur rarely acts that way with him? because WE rarely see it too. especially when is anxious or angry, instead of telling merlin straightaway, he confines himself in his chambers and either yells or tells merlin to get out. which means, not only merlin will forget their first and only hug, but will also forget arthur’s words of acknowledgement and trust. his honest confessions and admissions, not veiled by sarcasm or by a joke. and arthur will never know it either, because he had never suspected something went wrong in the first place. heartbreaking. does this make sense? to me it does. so yeah. i’ll go cry in my corner now.

to mend a broken heart, you must write fanfictions about it, so if you’d like, go check out mine. it’s the first post on my account. it’s still a WIP, but if you’d like to read it or interact with it, then you’ll make my day. have fun! and cry about merthur!

do not read it/like my posts/follow me (not that you will. i’m not that pretentious. i guess) if you’re a racist, zionist, sexist, transphobic or homophobic being who over all goes against any sort of basic humans’ rights.

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #ted talks #they’re in love your honor #these two are going to be the end of me #why do they have to be like this #i need to have a talk with the directors #will my obsession ever end #queer #merlin fanfic rec #merlin fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 writer #ao3

[slippinninque]

🫣🍑Private Dancer🍑🫣

Or: You discover another half to the secret you thought you were keeping

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, cursing, use of the n-word, mentions of smoking/weed, P-in-V, mentions of insecurity, long fic

Truth was, you were a secret shaker.

A tentative twerker. An apprehensive ass-thrower. Your waist whined when being perceived directly and not in a good way. Not only did you decline to throw ass in public, you will also turn away any offers to catch it.

You learned chorography to your favorite sounds, bounced around your living room as you folded clothes. Recorded dance challenges and deleted them a few hours later. You were your very own Stallion behind closed doors.

When you were alone, though...

It took only a handful of awkward encounters and an asshole ex-boyfriend suggesting you 'stand to the side' for you to be determined to find your rhythm.

Looking up tips online and went to any beginner's classes you could find in the area. Ballroom, salsa, the pole--it all helped you understand your body outside of what it looked like. It was about what you trained it to do, what you wanted it to do.

Investing in a really good floor length mirror was the last puzzle piece you needed to really find your beat. From there on, you and the mirror were lovers.

Only your small circle of friends knew. That was thanks to enough years of trust and tequila, leading to wild nights at house parties with the radio cranked high.

You eventually learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like it kept you away from fun or being included in the antics. If you went out with the ladies, you hyped them and kept a cute lil' two step. You held the title of Camerawoman with pride and your background cackles were famous in the group chat.

The booty wouldn't boogie with anyone else around and it's been that way for years.

It was your own little secret. No one had to know everything and you babbled enough as it was. If anyone cared to stare hard enough to a deserted, dark corner of the house--then maybe they could catch a glimpse.

The sway-snap of your hips, falling beautifully with every beat that you heard. How your hair gleamed, the way your smile swelled with the change of the songs.

Your entire body sang a song.

At least, that's what Fontaine thought when he first spotted you.

Of course you never knew he saw you. Even after the reciprocated confessions and hot-n-heavy honeymoon phase, you thought you went unseen.

Fontaine took your secret for his own, delighting in your shadow shows on the rare occasions you came out to play.

Fontaine could wait and if you had to feel alone to feel secure, then so be it. He used his admiration and desire to touch you, to be a proper witness.

Just being near you was more then enough, it would have been ungrateful to be so greedy.

------

You screamed when you saw him standing there.

The earbuds went off into the wilds of the kitchen, one skittering beneath the fridge.

Fontaine's eyes were popped wide but didn't seem remorseful for scaring your soul to the heavens.

"I thought you heard me when I came in." Fontaine hung up his keys before going in search of your earbuds. You watched after him, mortified.

You were just really into organizing the lower pantry. Lost in shaking your ass with one hand braced on the red potatoes and the other searching for the brown potatoes to put them back in their proper spot.

When you turned to grab the few 'taters that eacaped, you saw your man standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and head tilted.

How long has he been here?

Oh god, you have never danced for him. You have never danced in front of him--you weren't even serious. There wasn't a problem with you shimmying to the beat in his lap at a function or waving from your hips up while riding in the car to some jams.

This was different.

"Hey, hey--whatcha curling up for? C'mon now, I already know you can move."

"It-- that, um, I-I'm not that good, so, y'know..."

Fontaine pocketed your traumatized earbuds and kissed your hands until you inched them away enough for him to see your worried gaze. He tutted quietly, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles.

"What matters to me is what makes you feel good, baby." His voice rolled into a purr as he continued, "Lucky me that you look so fine when you do."

You wriggled as your shyness battled against the excitement of having Fontaine looking at you the way he was.

"So I don't look.... awkward? Do I have enough stuff to make it look good?"

"Wasn't nothing awkward 'bout how you were throwin' that, trust me."

Fontaine's hands went down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. His palms were warm and wide as he kneaded, bringing you even closer to him as you went to your tiptoes. He hooked his chin over your shoulder with a happy little him, distracted by you but only for only a moment more.

"Hold up, whatchu mean by 'enough stuff' ?"

You shrugged and decided not to answer. The truth of past insecurities felt redundant and you rather liked the way Fontaine was making you feel at the moment.

Fontaine grunted, giving you another squeeze before pulling back a bit to look into you square in the eyes.

"Look here-- I'm in love with all this right here, so I'm rockin' with you regardless of what you can make it do. Don't matter if you think you ain't got enough, shit, it's enough fo', me. Understand?"

His words worked out the few kinks in your heart, aches you grown used to and ignored when they flared. You nodded more confidently and only then did Fontaine lighten his hold on you, nodding back.

No telling how long Fontaine was standing there and if you never turned around-- you would have been none the wiser. How many times has he been there? Letting you have yourself, taking only a moment for himself as he had that smile on his face.

It was the same smile he had when he took away the shea butter to rub you down himself. Or similar to the smirk on his face when following after you to the bedroom after you talked a bit too much shit.

Your shoulders dropped as you fully relaxed into his hold. The burning embarrassment in your stomach churned into smooth, seamless and leaving you suddenly eager.

"So, tell me what a nigga gotta do to get a private dance from yo' pretty self?"

His hands helped themselves to another handful, this time spreading to touch between your legs. There was promise in his eyes and you knew you only needed to say yes.

You twist away from him enough to pluck your phone from the counter, sliding through a few songs before settling on something with drums and bass. The speakers pulsed and you began backing Fontaine out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He let you push him to sit in the recliner and he made an appreciative sound at the way you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It evolved, going deeper until you pulled away with a protesting noise from Fontaine.

"That's the only touching you gonna get from me right now."

"Oh, word?"

"You're going to distract me enough as it is." You said, stepping away from him and stretching your arms over your head.

"Bold as hell to call me a distraction." Fontaine's brows rose as he leaned back to make himself comfortable, "Lookin' at me with them eyes..."

His eyes hooked onto your hips. You stretched, teasingly bending over and holding onto your ankles as you gave a cute lil' shake, looking over your shoulder coyly .

"What can I use to look if it ain't my eyes?" You asked, "How am I supposed to see you?"

"Don't worry 'bout what you see back here, act like a nigga ain't even here."

"Oh, that's impossible now. You still make me feel so shy..."

Fontaine snorted and your gave a giddy smile in return.

What you wore was actually perfect. Tiny shorts and cami, perfect for when you were bounding around to clean house. Just what you needed for you to do a little Bend n' Snap for your man.

The music changed and you looked over at him in surprise, he held your phone but watched you with a mischief. Reaching for the little, polka dotted stash jar you left on the coffee table to pull out a blunt to wag at you.

"Go on, show me what you got fo' me."

Waiting until he fired up, you sauntered closer and tied up the front of your already teeny tank. Fontaine's eyes honed in to your nipples, distracted as he took a drag. When his fingers crooked, you leaned in enough and pursed your lips.

Fontaine blew a strong stream that you breathed in and held. You held as long as you could before releasing the smoke a final time into the air.

Fontaine's blunts were no-nonsense, where he still rolled with leaves rather than the papers you preferred. It felt like a straight shot to the head, the smoke lifting all the chatter in your mind to leave you swirling in electric eagerness.

Without further ado, you showed him what you could do.

Your hands braced on your knees, clasped above your head, went down to touch your toes. You rolled your stomach and snapped your hips mouthing the words to Fontaine as you fully felt yourself. You extended your arms and tried to be as dramatically sexy as possible. Touching all of Fontaine's favorite places yourself, pushing up your breast and skimming your hand between your legs for him to see.

Fontaine was a chaotic DJ as he flipped through your playlist. He went from instrumentals filled with nothing but baselines and adlibs, to Glorilla to Megan Thee Stallion to Trina. Whistling at every peek of cheek and nip, calling out to see the 'pretty lady' when you coyly fanned your legs at him from the floor.

When you got down on your hands and knees, you felt a smack against your cheeks hard enough to snap your illusion. You leaned onto your forearms, ass up in the air, and broke into laughter as more bills rained down. It was like a confetti canon was let off or someone hit the Golden Button for you.

"That felt personal." You said over your shoulder at where Fontaine sent another fan of bills into the air, "You tryin' to tell me something?"

"Yeah--to bring that ass over here so I can get my hands on you," Fontaine patted his thigh, "Thought this was gonna be a lap dance..."

"Private does not mean lap." You sniffed. Honestly, you weren't sure because you've never been to a strip club but with the way he was throwing bills--the living room was cosplaying as a VIP section at King of Diamonds.

You took your time in coming closer, wondering if you could skip on singles before Fontaine snatched you right up when you were close enough.

"This is too much! When did you even have time to take out all these damn dollars?"

"I been waiting on this, baby. Shit, I woulda threw gold if it ain't' hurt..."

You laughed and looked around at the singles carpeting your floor in disbelief, it's like you had a new rug installed! There were dollars all overt the coffee table and even some fluttered over to coat the entertainment center. Was there a dollar up in the light fixture? Was that a fire hazard?

Fontaine's teeth nipped at your earlobe, turning your next remark into soft moan. His hand ran up to cup your neck, breathing you in with a hungry hum.

His voice was all smoke and honey, "This is all well an' good, but I think I'm feeling a certain type of way..."

"Is it the horny way?"

Your cheekiness got you mean little pinch to your sensitive nipples. Jolting only pushed you closer to his greedy hands. It was his turn to touch. He plucked and twisted your nipples, making you mewl and melt into his touch. You ground down into his lap where you felt he needed you most, making him sigh into your ear.

"Gonna be the death of me, ain't ya?" Fontaine husked, "Here lies 'Taine, bust so hard he went on to glory. He leaves everything to his pretty-booty havin' lady."

"What if I promise to shake somethin' on your grave, would that be better--no biting!"

Fontaine growled something into the mouthful of shoulder he had, shaking his head gently and making you squeal and scrunch up to try and escape.

Still warm from being in the spotlight of Fontaine's attention and the pulsing music, your head swam with delight. It felt like victory. You turned and kissed at the side of his face before your lips met.

When your grinding became more insistent, Fontaine leaned back with his lip caught between his teeth.

Allowing yourself to be admired and seen was like nothing else. Fontaine has always shown nothing but devotion to you but you still felt like he was...just being nice. You were holding yourself back from assumed disappointment but this whole time he's been waiting on you.

Talk about blocking your blessings...

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Show me how you feel."

You looked over you shoulder, holding his hands against your breast as you rode in his lap. Fontaine hissed, one of his hands quickly escaped to clasp around your hips to grind up into you.

Leaning forward enough on your hands, your delicates went directly in his face as you tugged at his pant leg pointedly. Fontaine ignored your impatience and ran a hand over you, from between your shoulders down to the backs of your thighs.

You could hear him popping the button on his jeans and the rattle of his belt.

"How bad you want it, pretty?"

"Bad, real bad."

"'Do anything fo' it' bad?"

" 'Let you do anything to me' bad."

It happened fast after that, Fontaine righted you in his lap enough for him to press into your pussy. The stretch dropped your mouth open and Fontaine groaned at how wet you already were.

LOW started and you bounced to the beat, grinning dopily up at the ceiling at the feel of him hitting all your good spots. Your shorts provided a wonderful friction against your clit from how Fontaine shoved the fabric aside to let himself in.

It felt so naughty. To fuck on Fontaine like you were starved for him to the music rattling your walls. The thrill twisted with desire in your stomach, hurtling you faster and faster to your peek.

Suddenly more bills rained down and paired with Fontaine's laugh, more lust than amusement--it pushed you over the edge.

"Thta's it, I feel you, g'on and get yo' shit. Can't believe yo' pretty ass was shy..."

Fontaine took over. A bruising grip onto your hips, tipped you back into his chest as he thrust up into you in earnest.

"Puttin' that shit on me heavy, acting like you don't know what you do to me." Fontaine found a few singles that were being crumpled between you and pressed them to your dewy, lower back.

"Shieet, looks better than money. Wish you can see as much as yo' ass feel it, fuck." He gave your ass slap, you called out as you came. It felt like fire shot through you, leaving you reaching for any bit of him to clutch.

Between the music still going and Fontaine handling you so well, the sensations left you gasping. Legs burning and head filled with needy thoughts, you protested when Fontaine stopped your bouncing and maneuvered you until he slid free.

"Oh, show ain't over yet--you feel me?"

You did. Fontaine was heavy and hot where he tapped all over your ass, leaving kisses of wet spots. It filled you with a flash of pride or maybe even possessiveness. Craining your neck, you did you best to get a glimpse but Fontaine hand cupped your neck licked the shell of your ear.

"Yeah, that's you gettin' all over me. Tryna make me messy just how you like it, huh?"

He hissed when you writhed in his lap, ghost riding his dick until he gave you a little push to stand. Your mouth dropped open to whine but Fontaine turned you towards the middle of the room.

"Show me how you want it."

Fontaine held himself tight at the base, his lips lax enough for his gold to wink in the lamp light.

As gracefully as you could--you went down onto your knees before lying back to put your legs in the air. You rolled over in the blanket of dollars, wriggling down your shorts to one ankle until you could flick them away.

Fontaine grinned down at you, kneeling to slot his palm into the arch of your foot, his other hand stroking himself.

Fontaine moved your other thigh to the side around his hip, leaving you spread completely. You were still working, still giving him a show, but you couldn't bear to keep your hands off of him.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, eyes fixed to where his dick bumped against your mound.

"Prettiest thing touchin' soil and you think it ain't enough..."

"Hurry up, Mr. Lapdance--the show ends when the music does."

When you hand ran under his shirt, Fontaine tugged it over his head swiftly and much to your delight. The sight of his broad chest and delicious skin made you all the more impatient.

Fontaine's eyes flashed.

The image formed in your mind was electric. Pretending to be a little Stallion and running into a hungry handed, greedy eyed Fontaine in low strobe lights.

"You lucky we ain't meet like that. D'you wanna know what I would do if you showed out like that on a pole?

Not knowing just what he had in store for you as you led him to the privacy booths--intent on earning his attention.

When you licked your lips, Fontaine groaned softly, you smiled at him.

What's another little secret?

Pressing into your heat, Fontaine grumbled something about Home Depot.

"I did take a few classes, if you ever wanna see ahn--!"

Drunk on pleasure, you could only cry out as Fontaine chased his thoughts out loud. The change in position, with him looming above you muttering filthy promises--it was too much for you.

"Shouldn't have told me that, now I gotta put a stage in here somewhere in this bitch..."

"O-Oh fuck, 'Taine!"

He froze to watch your eyes roll close as you shook apart beneath him with a sob. Fontaine lowered himself to bracket you between his forearms to kiss you, swallowing your moans. His hips snapped, lost rhythm and then he was coming with satisfied growl.

That was it. You were dead. Your very soul leaked onto his thighs and the carpet below.

'Here lies me, twerked too close to the sun...'

Fontaine releases a heavy, satisfied hum into your ear as he finally collapsed onto you. It should have been stifling and your knew your legs would be useless for the next while, but all you could do was grin at the feel of the dollar bill stuck to his shoulder.

What a way to go....

------

When the playlist finally ended, the silence found you both covered in sweat and dollar bills. Fontaine rubbed a loc of your hair between his fingers and you rested your eyes--head on his shoulder. Your hand wandering aimlessly across his chest as you began to doze.

He tugged gently to get your attention, "Want you to do me a favor."

"Mn. If it involves moving, you gotta pay me."

Fontaine snorted and flicked away the bill stuck to the thigh you've strewn across him. You shrugged a shoulder with a lifted brow, you got me there.

He continued, "If you can help it...I'd like for you not to hide from me anymore."

The change in his tone had you searching for his gaze and of course it was already on you. Fontaine took your hand in his, turning yours until he held it in his open palm.

"I...okay. I can do that for you."

You weren't ready to talk about the past and trying to make sense of your complicated feelings of being perceived. Something told you that it wasn't the time, maybe it was you hiding again, but at least Fontaine took your words earnestly.

He kissed your hand once, twice before leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he went back to playing with your locs.

"Oouf you are terrible." You hid your face into his neck, "But once my legs come back online, you're in trouble."

"Good..and no more watchin' Baddies. Watching them girls fucks wit' your disposition," Fontaine reached for a handful of bills to sprinkle all over you, "You wanna be a Stallion? Lemme know and I'll give you a ride."

Fontaine patted your ass, "Can't threaten me with good troubles, baby."

-----------

ending notes: thank you so much for reading! It's a long one but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Might need some tweaking and editing since it's another Before Work Drop lmao! Please tell me what you think and what other things I should try, don't be shy! Comment and reblog please! 💕🥰💜

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @mcondance @thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina

(Added a more after some slight revisions 🫣)

#fontaine x black reader #fontaine x reader #Fontaine x you #x black reader #they cloned tyrone #They Cloned Tyrone fic #fontaine #john boyega #Fontaine x blackfemreader #Fontaine x black fem reader #they cloned tyrone fic

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Mornin'

My kink drabbles are still in progress (there are two reqs in my inbox, both of which I'll be getting into soon, I promise!). Seeing as my current Loki-DW crossover is nearly finished, and my WIP is a Steve x Reader x Bucky mood fest (please go check it out, it needs more love!) I'm making plans for a new Loki multi-chapter fic soon, but I need your input!

I have a few ideas in my head. Which one would you be most likely to read/love/reblog?

Idea A: After the quinjet crashes during a mission, you and your biggest rival at work, Loki, are trapped on an uncharted island with only your wits to keep you alive (and sane). As island fever sets in, Loki starts looking rather attractive to you in the inadvertently-romantic setting.

Idea B: You are a prophetess in the palace of Asgard, but when you have a vision that ultimate costs Prince Thor his life, you are sentenced to death. Before you reach the block, Heimdall demands your release, saying that the Higher Gods of Destiny demand that you marry Thor's brother and the new heir, for your gifts may yet be useful as a future Queen. But being forcibly brought into the royal family and wedded to the resentful Prince Loki isn't exactly preferable to death...

Idea C: A sick, unseen sadist captures The Avengers and throws them into an underground bunker full of livestream cameras. The game: there is a mole among them. If they can find out who the mole is in one week, they all can go, and the Unseen Host will turn themselves in. The catch: if they guess wrong, or time runs out, they all die on the spot. Loki thinks he knows who it is, and he enlists your help to extract a confession from the perp before time is up...but is the culprit who you think it is?

Random taggies: @acidcasualties @anukulee @buttercupcookies-blog @chantsdemarins @divine-knight-hand @foxherder @fandxmslxt69 @gigglingtiggerv2 @glitchquake @gruftiela @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbs @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @queen-paladin @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane

#new loki fic #fic poll #loki fanfic

[absolutebl]

Hi! apologies if you've answered this before, but can you recommend some bls that deal with homophobia, be it internalised or external? or more generally, bls that are not set in the bl bubble where gayness is 100% accepted?

Thank you very much <3

Ooo, sure thing!

BL's Not Set in The Bubble

BLs that deal with homophobia (internal or external) and rough coming out sequences

Began Beginning from Myanmar is all about this. It's not a BL I would necessarily recommend but it is interesting for many reasons. Both leads are dealing with massive internalize homophobia, among other issues.

Similarly: Like in the Movies and Tie the Not from the Philippines.

And Goodbye Mother and Nation's Brother from Vietnam.

From Thailand

To Sir, With Love - witnessing his family's massive homophobia that results in major tragedy as a child is what drives our main character's whole personality and self hatred. Massive trigger warning.

Until We Meet Again - the pair in the past, of course, it's the driving trauma of the relationship reincarnated. Massive trigger warning.

I Feel You Linger In the Air - fear of being caught is a through line in this drama.

More modern set stuff:

City of Stars deals with having to leave the closet as a super star. So does Close Friend Season 2 a little. The OhmFluke pair also deals with coming out to parents. Love Stage!! (Thailands version) contains one couple that chooses to remain closeted for the good of a career and another that risks it.

Moonlight Chicken - mostly about self hatred and difficulty in being out, to the point where his young nephew challenges him on it and provides a foil.

Also, ya know, TharnType and Why R U. Both have self hated and challenging coming outs because of trauma and daddy issues.

Dark Blue Kiss - Kao is terrified of being outed and it's used to blackmail him.

Similarly although he is out of Ae, Pete is being abused and blackmailed because he is gay in Love By Chance. Also Ae doesn't manage to come out... yet.

I Told Sunset About You - of course.

My Gear and Your Gown final episodes contain homophobic (or are they?) parents.

Second Chance heavily implies that there is something going on with Paper's inability to accept Fah.

Similarly Gene accepting Sib in Lovely Writer.

I'm pretty sure there's a ton of homophobia at the back end of My Tee, but honestly it's been years sicne I watched that mess.

Charming little pulp 21 Day Theory deals with quite a bti of this, but our main character has a lovely gay uncle to guide the way.

"Punch the homophobe" my favorite trope of all time, happens in Oxygen. But otherwise they neatly circumvent the patriarchs objection by defacto adopting a child to inherit.

TonhonChonlatee is all about one characters inability to acept his own queerness as encouraged by his homophobic family and various other evil characters.

My Only 12% actively tackles and calls out cultural homophobia and damaging misrepresentations.

"Why does everyone think that both of them are strange? If it's not wrong, why does everyone hurt?"

The show he's talking about is Thailand's first proto-BL, love of Siam and it is about an inability to come out.

From Japan

Life: Love on the Line - it's parental disgust and personal self hatred and paranoia that breaks them up (they get back together but he as to get over it)

Similarly His - is a kind of reunion romance after self-homophobia drove one half of the pair to marry someone else.

Actually the original series with the same characters, His the series, also deals with self acceptance around gayness, and it's subtle (Japan) but it's pretty clear one of them was kicked out of/ or left his previous school because he got outed. (Light on Me references a similar situation, but it's ultra subtle.)

If It's With You also kinda falls into this category. Not sure these can be called "dealing with" it tho, more side stepping and alluding to it.

Tokyo in April is - yeah it's kinda the whole thing from one half of this pair

What Did You Eat Yesterday also has a coming out to the parents thread throughout, and a coming out at work thing, but it's not really the point of the show.

From Korea

Most Korean BL are gonna be out. The specialize in the bubble. Although a case could be made for Love For Love's Sake and Love Class. And, see comment, Jazz for Two.

One noted exception is Just Friends which is a short piece about coming out to mom while on leave from the military. This is one of Korea's earliest BL pieces and not strictly BL, but it's fascinating in that neither theme (military nor coming out) would reall be reused again.

From Taiwan

My Tooth Your Love - has a kinda different take and we aren't sure, as viewers whether it's because he's gay or because he's not doing what the Patriarch wishes. But trigger warning for [physical abuse.

DNA Says Love You deals with this and other forms of queerphobia during the later half. Slow start but I do love this show.

Faded is a propaganda piece (pro marriage equality) which is all about coming out to a parent.

In H4CTY Xing Si (of the side couple) is having a hard time coming out but that's complied by the fact that he's fucking his stepbrother, it's a mess, bit I enjoy them - v problematic couple tho.

Papa & Daddy actually has a coming out sequence (GASP!) where the parents don't take it well as does Love is Science? (sides) - but the later is mostly because disaster bi is also baby daddy.

Red Balloon, of course, and it's sibling movie Your Name Engraved Herein are kinda all about self loathing and suffering because of gayness and lack of acceptance.

Unknown is certainly tackling some of this.

In which I talk about some of my favorite coming out sequences:

He's Coming to Me has my favorite series of coming out sequences to both friends and mother.

A few more that I really don't like (Promise) and probably Together With Me should be here, but I willfully can't remember them.

(source)

#bls with angst around coming out #bls that deal with homophobia #bls that are not set in the bl bubble where gayness is 100% accepted #mostly thai bl #thai bl #japanese bl #taiwanese bl #historical bl

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

If you are okay writing yandere Eden! Adam

Here is a prompt idea

Adam begins to realize that Lucifer is talking to Lilith more than him. This makes him feel a bit crazy, so he does everything in his power to prevent Lilith from kissing Lucifer. Despite his efforts, he witnesses it happen right in front of his eyes. This is his final straw, so he decides to take care of Lilith.

Thank you!

Content Warning: Character Death.

She kissed him. Lilith kissed his fucking angel. Who did this bitch think she was?

Adam had been trying to keep the first woman and Lucifer apart as much as he could. But they still found their way to each other.

He would fix her.

"Hey Lilith, can you come here?" Adam asked, he didn't miss the way she rolled her eyes as she came over.

"What?"

"I just wanted to show you this new animal in the pond. Have a look!" He pointed to the pond and stood behind her as she peered in.

"I don't see anything."

"Look closer...... Closer..... Closer." Adam grabbed her by her blonde hair and shoved her face in the water. Lilith struggled against him, but he was stronger. "You're dirty whore lips won't touch his again."

It wasn't until she stopped moving did he let her go.

Later when he found Lucifer, the Angel asked where the woman was. "Don't know. But now it's just us."

No one would come between them again. No one.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x adam #ask

[kaeyachi]

Am I the only one, who finds the lore of descendants of those, who abandon their gods, turning into hilis, ridiculous?

You want to tell me, that in the whole history of teyvat, nobody ever witnessed their unbelieving uncle turn into a hilichurl, because he spit on the imagine of the shogun or something?

What about the sages? Even scara said that Nahida's people abandoned her. Yet last time I checked the sages didn't turn wild.

Or is it the act of leaving celestia's grace and going underground to Khaenri'ah something that seals the curse? And you want to tell me, that in the history before the cataclysm, nobody knew, that going to the surface will kill their humanity?

Seems like something hoyo didn't plan properly

Doesn’t Kaeya's character story imply that he was born and raised in Khaenri'ah (or what remained) before his father brought him to the strange lands of Mondstadt (the literal starter region that is so basic)

If the HSR crew did the lore of Genshin we would have known about his childhood before Mondstadt by know.

Man, if the Genshin crew did HSR lore than Dan Heng's secret and story arc would have been resolved 5 patches later lol

And March's past would have still not been touched on, I was so surprised that she herself suggested to use the Matrix to find some clues! I didn't expect much but that was a Genshin would never moment for me

Hey there anon! Here are the answer to some of your questions!

- Yes, they have to enter Khaenri'ah for the hilichurl curse to work. The act of turning against your archon is easy because archons come and go. The major difference is that by choosing to stay in Khaenri'ah, you are basically declaring that you are against Celestia and the seven

- People have observed others turn into monsters before. In fact, Khaenri'ah is not the first nation Celestia cursed. Turning into a monster is also not as fast as most people think it is.

- Caribert was implied to have stayed in Khaenri'ah for a while with Clothar's voiceline where he tells Caribert that there is "no more red sky". Clothar brought his lover and his illegitimate son closer to him, and that was their downfall. He met the prerequisites I mentioned above.

- Khaenri'ah probably knew that non-purebloods going to the surface would turn them into monsters, if the Perinheri tale is to be trusted. They would end up choosing a select number of families or clans that they know are purebloods (non-Teyvatian). Arguably, this could be why the Alberich clan was so hell-bent on keeping blood purity.

- The Cataclysm is basically a "die here if you choose to stay" or "leave this place and lose your humanity" situation

-Kaeya's story does not imply that he was in Khaenri'ah. At most, they mentioned his father teaching him and talking about their clan, but no direct mention of Kaeya ever having stepped foot inside it. Additionally, Kaeya's attitude of subtly trying to research more about Khaenri'ah somewhat implies that he doesn't have much information other than anything related to his "mission" from his father. Again, Kaeya was once a little boy who purposely attempted to run away from the Ragnvindr family when he saw a chance to go to Sumeru and, therefore, learn more about Khaenri'ah.

- Lmao don't expect any Mondstadt slander from me. I love that nation, and I know that nation so much that I believe there is something more to it. Also, do note that Mondstadt is a hub for people with mysterious lore, not just Kaeya. I guess we can argue that Mond is a starter nation for all of them too ig.

Finally, FYI FOR EVERYONE

I do not care for HSR v. Genshin discourse! Please take this issue somewhere else, okay guys? I am a Kaeya blog 90% of the time and 10% of everything else, and I do not have space in my 10% for arguments ✌️ but for the record, I prefer playing Genshin for a multitude of reasons. Take that as you will.

#thank you for the ask(? rant??) anon! #kaeyachi asks #i highly suggest letting go of genshin if you find yourself saying “genshin could never” #or take a step back if you insist on staying #this is a message for everyone who feels burnt out or mad about the lack of freebies

[coffincestuous]

i’ve been super busy this month so i’m about (checks date) 15 days late to the progress report, but…

kit9 progress report #4!!

we have these two images to start us off!!

before i get to leyley’s dialogue here, i want to say that i love the inside of wherever this is. is this part of the abandoned factory? is this just somewhere they found? i also see a hammer that stands out, and a particular door that’s boarded up. break in!!!

i wonder if this is a genuinely flashback or a dream sequence? if it’s a dream, whose? we’ve seen both andrew and ashley have dreams about their past (ashley when the game starts episode one, and andrew when he falls asleep at their parents’ house), and from the devlogs, we know that we’re going to see a whole lot more of their past with the next update!! so, i wonder who this moment is important to?

anyway. leyley suggesting they start a shooting spree in a church is very in-character for her. i don’t think i have to ask how she got there or why, because she’s just kind of… like that. we see that same behavior when they’re going back to the hotel room to lure the cultist out:

she’s so silly. my favorite problem girl.

the second image we have is this:

ashley is in some cultist’s apartment? house? …where’s andrew? did they break in? probably not, considering the ritual on the floor being up and ready to go. is andrew around, or is it just ashley here? was she invited? did she invite herself? did they attend another cultist event??

the rune on the floor here is different from the runes we’ve seen previously!! the one in the first cultist’s house is your standard pentagram with five smaller pentagrams around it. the second one, at the cultist party, is also a pentagram with five smaller pentagrams around it (but it looks better than the first one).

welcome to “how to summon a demon 101” with ashley graves!

i assume ashley made some kind of snarky comment to provoke the cultist into identifying her boyfriend. it’d be really funny if she asked if the guy was their brother. really funny

finally, we have A VIDEO!!!!!

hoooooly shit!!!! teenage andrew!!!!! teenage julia!!!! it’s great to see they haven’t grown out of their emo fashion.

julia’s so CUTE!!!!! it’s very sweet of her to reach out to andrew!! we know that andrew’s not the type to give a shit (internally) about rumors, but julia doesn’t know that. it’s very nice that she went out of her way to reassure him!!

it’s very surprising that andrew is the one who ultimately kickstarted their relationship. julia probably wasn’t going to say anything to him about her crush despite it being super super obvious. she’s very nervous and flustered in this scene!! the rumors surrounding him and ashley, regardless of truth, must have been harmful enough that he felt like he needed to step in to dispell them. andrew and his reputation… his care for ashley…

i love how we can see ashley’s interpretation of things and compare it to andrew’s interpretation of things. ashley’s view of the world is so skewed by her fears of abandonment and not being enough. she’s terrified of losing andrew, so anyone getting close to him is a threat that needs to be dealt with. but, andrew doesn’t have that same insecurity. he knows where he stands with ashley, he knows that no one can replace him in her life, and she can’t be replaced in his.

i’m so glad we get to see more of julia!! i know the game is titled the coffin of andy and leyley, but she’s important to the narrative!! she’s one of the few people to witness ashley’s full anger!! she was friends with nina!! she has seen how andrew acted when ashley wanted something!! i didn’t want to leave her in episode one…

it’s unfortunate that the next episodes will be delayed due to editor limitations, but that means that the game has so much content and i’m so exited to play it upon release!!!

#coffin.txt #devlog #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #ashley graves #tcoaal screencaps

[journalsouppe]

Ever since I accidentally picked up and played DGS, I knew I needed to play PLVSPW. I decided to alternate playing ace attorney games with professor layton games until I finished the main trilogies for both and could finally play plvspw, and it was so worth the wait. I love this game so much it is everything I could have hoped and more, so so so much more. Highly recommend to honestly anyone!!!

All of the Professor Layton stickers are from jordydrawsmerch which can be found here and here. All of the Phoenix stickers are by Peachcott!! Every other sticker is from Daiso!

Writing typed below!

Rating: 9.7 Played: Fa 2023 Port: 3DS Favorite? Y Replayable? Y Recommend? Y

Comments

AA stickers by Peachcott, PL stickers by Jordydraws

THE MUSIC???

WITHCES??? TALOS???

HIS NAME IS NOT FUCKING CAR ACCIDENT

I like the UI esp with how the stylus interacts with the screen

Omg the yiga

Omg traveling is easier AND they give you coin and puzzle hints

OH IM JUST NOW IN CORT AFTER THAT INSANE SEQ

WHAT IS GOING ON

LOVE maya’s model

THE REUSED ASPECTS IN DGS OMG

THE CUNTY POSE AAAA

THE PIPE WHACK LMAO

WHITE PAYNE

Love the design of labyrinthia

Im curious if nick and maya will be bombarded with puzzles

I LOVE how the 3D and tech of the 3DS are used to make more dynamic puzzles

A LIVE EXECUTION?

Lmao B&W LSOH moment (Kira ate flowers which is smth that happened in the original non-musical little shop of horrors movie)

SOME GUY

WHAT DO YOU MEAN MAYA AND NICK HAVE BEEN HERE FOR 5 YEARS

Cinderellia lol

Omg the book roof

Labyrinthia at night music is sooo pretty

Kira is the killer… right?

I am so stressed about Luke and maya

Hershel to see the storyteller??

THE PRINCESS TUTU AND DROSSELMEYER VIBSE ARE OFF THE CHARTS

Luke is too small for the defense table T_T

THE STORYTELLERS DAUGHTER??

THE BELL TOWER??

Curse…

LUKE NOOO

WHAT IS GOING ON?? T-T

LMAO NOT ANOTHER PARROT WITNESS

BARNHAM NOO

Top of town so pretty

Major shrek 2 vibes

Is that a bust of cabanela

Layton said lets go somewhere more private LMFAO

I love the nick and Luke dynamic… but at what cost T_T

LAYTON’S ??? AND HIS THEME AHHH

HERSHEL NOOOO

Obsessed with rouge’s design and tattoo

THE WAY I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW HERSHEL AHHH

Love the assistant/mentor switch

MAYA EATING RAMEN AND HERSHEL DRINKING TEA IN THEIR PIXEL ART

^ Maya copies other idles! luke writes in his journal and nick reads his paper!

LOVE darklaws claws!

the vigilante witnesses....

is it really a layton game if there's no tower

GOD DAMN HERSHEL love his sword fighting

omg who is bezella

will layton act as the prosecutor??

the battle against the professor is so nerve wracking

just learned why its called pl VS pw

GO OFF KIRA

ESPELLA AND DARKLAW AS KIDS AWW T^T <333

ooo darklaw's laws have the eyes on them

the "magic" is so complicated

i feel like eve the cat is v important but overlooked

WHERE IS LUKE I MISS HIM T^T

love the belfry search

ooo this is like princess tutu x tunic

this took a sharp turn omg

THESE LADIES T~T

FORK LIFT CERTIFIED LUKE LMAO

BARNHAM!

love eve's black outfit

YURI LETS GO

PROF??

EDGEWORTH??

Summary

This game is everything I hoped it would be. yes it's a Professor Layton crossover, but it also has the charm of DGS x Princess tutu x tunic. The ending was very layton-esque, along with all the reveals. I truly had such an amazing time playing this game. I was initially introduced to this because I heard that DGS was inspired by it, so it was my mission to play both aa and pl's original trilogies before playing. And I am so glad I did bc the wait was so worth it. You can absolutely see the influence this game and professor layton had on Shu Takumi. There's so much passion and creativity between plvspw an dgs that makes playing them all the more enjoyable. I loved how all the main characters interacted with each other, I especially loved how hershel and phoenix swapped assistants. The new characters were also so fun. Espella, Barnham, Darklaw, the story-teller, they were all so unique and enjoyable to interact with. The animation was stellar. This 3D style really works for both PL and AA and im so glad both series took inspiration from it. The music and art was phenomenal, this game honestly should win awards if it hasn't already done so. I also love how any character pulled into an aa game will have their gay moments: phoenix x hershel and espella x eve especially. I can't wait to make art or even write for this game, I will definitely add scenes from this to my ballet au ^^! What a phenomenal game, what a fun premise with the most convoluted layton-esque ending. It was so perfectly I highly recommend!!

#journalsouppe #bullet journal #journal #video game journal #ace attorney #professor layton #plvspw #professor layton vs phoenix wright #plvspwaa #plvspw spoilers