#how do you be more than average at something?

[bumble-punch]

I tend to care about taking a more realistic approach to Riptide in terms of resource management ect, so here's some random thoughts about clothes.

(minor spoilers up to episode #87)

Space management is important on a ship, so pirates tend to stick the essential clothing pieces, and change and wash them less than the average land-dweller.

Pirates don't smell great. This is just something you have to accept.

(except Gillion. Gillion smells of fish and salt and seaweed and the ocean, and never smells sweaty because he doesn't sweat in the human sense, he's just always moist)

Pre episode #87:

Chip has one shirt and one pair of trousers. When he needs to wash them, he will just walk around shirtless or in his underpants depending on what item is being washed. even for a pirate, this is a bit excessive.

he has like three pairs of underpants and he washes them concerningly infrequently

Jay has a change of clothes - she has a spare shirt and trousers, 2 bras that she alternates between, and several pairs of underpants. This is closer to the regular amount of clothes you would expect a pirate to have

After Chip lost his shirt in Allport, he borrowed Jay's spare one since I refuse to imagine him shirtless for the entire Feywild arc. My boy would be cold! :(

Jay is overall the most well-groomed due to her Navy upbringing. However, this isn't something she enjoys - more like something that she feels obligated to do. She finds washing her clothes a pain, and doesn't mind not smelling great or being dirty. As a kid she always hated washing and wearing uncomfortable clothes. As she spends more time on the pirate ship, she becomes less well-put-together and starts to drift more towards a Chip-level of cleanliness - though she promises herself she will never stoop quite as low as him. It's a matter of pride.

She does pick up his habit of walking around shirtless or in her underpants when she can't be bothered to get dressed / it's too hot / whatever. It's a pirate ship, social norms don't matter. Everyone on the ship is family and no-one cares.

She stops wearing bras when they are not on land for the same reason. However, when they come to land, she does make a concerted effort to make herself look socially acceptable and conform to standard norms regarding dress, since she knows this will get them a better reception with the land-dwellers they interact with.

Gillion's was raised to be well-groomed, but didn't have a chance to pack a change of clothes when he was kicked out of the Undersea. His clothes are stiff and encrusted with salt from all the time he spends in the water. There isn't as much of a need to wash items of clothing in the Undersea, as they are in water the whole time, and stains don't show up in the underwater gloom unless they're extremely obvious. Chip and Jay teach him how laundry works easily enough, and Gillion employs a similar strategy to Chip. However, he washes his clothes less frequently than they do as they are always being resubmerged in water anyway.

Post episode #87:

They finally get Gillion a change of clothes. He has an alternate shirt and trousers.

Since they have a bigger ship by this point, the crew has space for a few more fun/luxury items of clothing that aren't for everyday wear. Only a few - ie one special shirt - but it's still nice to have.

(Gillion has an emo band T-shirt) (yes they have emo bands in the fantasy world of Mana) (come on we all know at this point that the world doesn't conform to a consistent time period)

Jay realises she hates her current clothes because the starched sleeveless shirts she has been wearing, though they have become far less starched after a year of heavy use and improper wear, are very scratchy on her skin. She buys two softer woolen sleeveless shirts instead (ie the ribbed design a lot of the fanart of her features). She gives the old shirts to Chip

Chip buys the coat, which keeps his shoulders warm, and so he often prefers to go shirtless to show off his tattoos. However, he will wear Jay's old shirts when his tits get too cold.

#jrwi riptide #jrwi #jrwi show #gillion tidestrider #jrwi gillion #jrwi chip #jay ferin #jrwi jay #chip bastard #chip lastname

[korlkorl]

things that get azul, ruggie & sebek flustered

fic vomit uwu

azul

nothing. absolutely nothing. don't get him wrong, there are many things that you do to get him all flushed and embarrassed like the sweet cherry tomato you pop in your mouth. it's just that azul has never loved someone so much before, there is no way he can have a favourite, when you as a whole is his favourite thing in the entire world.

the way your eyelashes flutter when you blink; the slow motion of your chest heaving up and down— he finds all of them so loveable. he's on his knees for you, please be merciful, jade and floyd will never let him see the end of it. he already knows how shamefully he acts when he's around you, the inexplainable desire to want to see you gasp in surprise, impressed with whatever new thing azul wanted to show off. give him a kiss after and watch him freeze and heat up.

ruggie

oddly enough, what gets him flustered about you is when he does something. ruggie is someone who values his hard work and sufficiency. because of this, he doesn’t believe people do favors simply because of their nature. like him, he thinks everyone has a motive. somehow, that mindset is slowly starting to alter.

it wasn't much to begin with— he'd sometimes find himself swiping a little extra than usual, risking the possibility of being caught because he stole more than he should. for some reason, that little extra amount wasn't for himself as a cheeky reward, no. it was actually for you.

he'd casually hand some food to you on his way and sometimes, if he doesn't manage to get enough for the both of you, he'd always split it half if possible, much to his classmate's horror. (ruggie bucchi? THE ruggie bucchi?? sharing??? is this heaven????)

at a point, he realized what he was doing. it's completely out of character for him, what in the world was he thinking? but he was too deep now, he couldn't seem to live day by day without giving you a little gift at least once anymore.

eventually, ruggie went from nonchalantly giving you half of his donuts or letting you copy some of his work that you forgot to do to instead turning a deep hue of multiple reds (in the span of 0.2 seconds!) as he sheepishly handed you things. oh well, there's no turning back now.

sebek

he’d always found it off putting on how this magically gifted mother ever found herself in love with his average father, who was much more soft spoken and loving. He couldn’t seem to fully grasp how his mother ever saw any appeal in his father.

it was a ridiculous notion. someone as talented as her stooping for someone as low as him?! that's crazy! don't worry, sebek loves his father very much. but he's also strongly opinionated.

for someone who claims his opinions and ideals hardly change, they seem to sway as easily as they came when you entered his life. you were much sweeter, kinder and caring than sebek could ever be. he was hardly a spec of dust in your presence. maybe that's what tugged at his heart. you were average. there was nothing inherently special about you, just a normal human. to him, you were his god.

sometimes, when you cage his fingers against yours, lean your head against his shoulder and smile, sebek starts to wonder what has ever had happen for this to ever happen.

sebek is a lot of things. he's human, he's fae, he's a wizard and he's yours. he flushes in embarassment when he thinks about this. what did you do to him for him to be so hopeless around you? he turns red when he thinks about how easily you managed to change him.

a.n: hihi hope u enjoy... also dont forget to put some requests in my inbox!! i am running out of ideas... i just started working on a request and i think it's gonna be very long so im gonna let my inbox marinate so i can binge write all of them... i love writing...

#twst #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #ruggie bucci x reader #twisted wonderland ruggie #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #twisted wonderland sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader

[lewdimagines]

𝓞𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 (18+)

pairings : jake kim x reader, gitae kim x reader

content warning ⚠️: nsfw head canons. . .

JAKE KIM :

he definitely is nice and romantic.. the way he gives off lover boy is so mbejwgsjeh 😍😍, he is the type man to caress you and lead you while slowly but harshly pounding into your hole and whispering soft praises in your ear.. calling you his good (boy/girl) and how your taking his cock so well

he kinda gives off like prob..8 inches def a shower not a grower 🎀 he definitely has top 5 prettiest cocks but his cum is prob not as tasty as others since he mainly eats like ramen n stuff..please give this boy some fruits and a correct diet 😭‼️.

bonus…

jake had you in a big spoon position..its been like this for minutes probably hours even! You couldn’t keep up with this mans stamina not knowing how much times you had even came around his girthy cock, as he hit your sweet spots with every thrust forcing loud moans from your vocal cords “ please..jakee feels too much its too much baby~! “ he would kiss your tears rolling down your face as his thrust sped up slightly making you squeal out in overstimulation pulling out another orgasm from you “ shh..just take my cock pretty thats all im askin you to do baby. “

GITAE KIM :

THE TOTAL OPPOSITE FROM JAKE

js mean and rough :(( never gives you a break esp if you guys are dating/married he just wants to be in your hole all the time, how else is he gonna relieve his stress anywhere else? Its hard managing a cartel and being so hot, he is such and i mean SUCH a red flag

Soon as you say no to him he will throw a big fit making no other choice for him to fuck your throat and degrade you in how stupid you are and how you dont even compare to those street common whores.

9 inches. YEA HE IS BIGGER THAN JAKE AND SO WHAT 🤬🤬‼️ He is a grower at first you’d be relieved on how he is a average length..but as soon as you start gridding your hips on his lap at the club he is dealing at you felt something way more than average against the fat of your cheeks. ( he is a ass man )

he only is romantic when youre dating him!! If you’re js some night stand he is gonna be rough and aggressive to you all night not even giving you a break.

bonus. . .

“ GITAE- SHIT! “ your screams and moans would bounce off the club restroom his hands bouncing you back on his cock, plunging his hips into yours making wet slapping noises “ maybe if you..didnt tightened the fuck up this would be fuckin easier, right? “ he said his tone being menacing and rude your walls tightening up on his walls as you squealed out more your hands gripping on the bathroom sink. Your legs quivering as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g spot. “ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE “ your begging would fall deaf on his ears as he roughened up his thrusts pulling you back by your hair “ let me see that fuckin face yea? “ you could only nod bring to dumb to know what to say as your legs quivered pulling out an orgasm from you

#gitae kim #jake kim #lookism x reader #lookism #smut #lookism smut

[hugsandchaos]

Random bit, but does anyone else wonder if ghosts from the ghost zone react to humans similarly to how humans react to ghosts? Like sometimes I just want to write Danny in human form around Frostbite in a manner that’s kind of from Frostbite’s prospective, and describe Danny’s human form in a way that connects to the living world or at least partially does. Let me just show you what I mean.

It was odd for Frostbite, seeing the Great One’s human form for the first time. True, he literally asked for it during the checkup, and he’s met Sam and Tucker before, but something about this was different. Perhaps it was the simple fact that Frostbite had only seen him in ghost form until that point, maybe it had something to do with him being a halfa. Who was to say when there was so, so little information on Halfas?

Hair the color of freshly fallen snow, much like the fur of Frostbite and his people, now turned as dark as a shadow. Perhaps even darker, just like Sam’s. Unlike Sam, however, Danny’s eyes had a different color. A shade of green that both practically and often literally glowed just like the ectoplasm all ghosts were made of had been replaced by a light blue. Looking at them reminded the chief of ice, and he was sure that any glare from them would feel like ice piercing a ghost’s very core. His skin was a little darker now, but Danny still appeared a little paler than Sam.

Looking at Danny now was like looking at a glimpse of a world where everything was different. Frostbite knew that the two realms were obviously different, but it felt more... perhaps “dangerous” was a good word, or “mysterious”. The thumping of his heart was picked up on more easily by the machines used to read his core vibrations, and the thermometer rose gradually until it reached 94 degrees. That temperature was extremely dangerous for a ghost with an ice core, as the average temperature for one was between 10 to 0 degrees. And yet Danny Phantom’s recorded body temperatures were always between 32 and 40, which was by itself alarming enough. Now it was all the way at 94?!

“Young Phantom, are you alright?! The thermometer says that your body temperature is 94 degrees!” Frostbite exclaimed.

Danny nodded and smile a little, his new ghost teeth, which Sam and Tucker called fangs despite them being rather small, were visible for a short while.”That’s actually close to the average healthy temperature for a human, which is 97 to 99 degrees, but I guess being half ghost lowered it a bit? It’s when the body temperature reaches 100 or higher that we should worry.” He said.

“...I need to update your record.” Frostbite said after a moment’s silence. Once the checkup was over, perhaps he could ask the Great One to bring some medical books on humans to better understand the living, and dead, paradox that was Halfas.

“My what now?” Danny asked.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #dp frostbite #danny phantom frostbite #Danny phantom prompt

[happyhauntt]

bury these bones — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: spencer's day isn't anything more than average, but a surprise phone call and impromptu hospital visit have him rethinking his expectations.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, a little angst, reader is autistic & a mom, no use of y/n. swearing. mild description of injuries (not serious), references to the 'lauren' arc of season 6, hospitals, this is mostly just flirting with a bit of background angst. i did do some research but honestly all facts & figures in this are probably Not Accurate and should absolutely never be repeated.

─── word count: 1.9k.

     IT ISN’T OFTEN THAT SPENCER is the first one into the office. More often than not, Hotch is already at his desk by the time dawn breaks, and Morgan can usually be found finishing up in the gym. Nobody ever expects Rossi to arrive on time — he usually strolls in a little after 9:30 with his blazer slung over his arm and a half-finished espresso in his hand — and Emily maintains some semblance of a work-life balance by appearing no sooner than work is supposed to start, if she can help it.

     The point, Spencer supposes, is that his routine usually falls comfortably in the middle and yet, today, as he emerges from the elevator and heads towards his desk, the bullpen is almost eerily quiet.

     Bizarre, he thinks, setting his bag down by his chair. The BAU is so often abuzz with activity, the low hum of worker bees all in a hive slipping into background noise, that to see it so empty is… jarring, to say the least.

     Spencer heads for the kitchen after a moment, ears ringing in the silence, and makes a pot of coffee before meandering back to his desk. A glance at the clock tells him that it’s still early, and as a mouthful of too-sweet coffee sits on his tongue, he reaches into his bag and draws out today’s paper, flipping through to the crossword.

     Silence is golden, after all. If he’s lucky, he’ll beat his personal best.

     He’s halfway through, about to move on to 6, down, when the phone rings. The shrill sound of it pierces the air, and Spencer can’t help flinching a little as it startles him. Eyes dart all over the bullpen, trying to locate the source of the noise, before they land on Emily's desk. The offending phone trills on and on. One of the lights blinks red. External call.

     He discards the newspaper on his desk, tucking a spare pen inside so the page isn’t lost, and strides across the office to Emily’s desk to answer the phone. It won’t be the first time he’s taken a message for one of his coworkers, and he suspects Emily would rather this than letting the call ring out.

     “Agent Prentiss’ phone.” His voice feels too loud in the sudden silence of the office, now that the ringing has ceased. “Dr. Reid speaking. Can I help you?”

     “Dr. Reid?” The voice crackling down the line lilts with confusion, and his chest floods with warmth at the familiarity of it.

     He can almost picture you, in his mind’s eye. The exact expression on your face as you hear him speak instead of Emily, the little scrunch of your nose, your head tilting to the side. It’s the same look you have when you find something strange inside a cadaver.

     The same bewildered wrinkle appears between your brows when you’re on the plane after a case and Spencer’s trying to teach you how to play chess, and you start to laugh and tell him you’re hopeless, but his persistence is endearing, so you let him explain the rules all over again.

     (You’ve only been part of the team for a few months, only accompanied them on cases a handful of times, but the sound of your voice is as familiar to him as the moon on a winter’s night. He can’t quite put his finger on when or how he became so attuned to you, drawn in the same way the moon pulls the tide, but he’s certainly not complaining.)

     “I keep telling you to call me Spencer.” An amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

     You scoff. “That’s not professional.”

     “Our technical analyst tucks fluffy pens into her hair, and on our last case together I walked in on you dancing to Abba in the middle of an autopsy. I think professionalism is a thing of the past.”

     “Bite me, Dr. Reid,” you say, but your words are flooded with affection. “Where’s Prentiss? Why are you answering her phone?”

     Spencer shrugs. “She’s not in yet. Anything I can help with?”

     Silence. If not for the sound of your breathing, Spencer might think the call dropped.

     Another moment passes before you swallow thickly, a quiet gulp that sends an odd zing skittering through Spencer’s nervous system.

     “I need a favour and I don’t want to worry Jackie.”

     From what he’s heard about your sister-in-law, Spencer thinks that’s fair. “Sure, what is it?”

     “Can you pick me up from the hospital?”

     Recent surveys conducted by NORC at the University of Chicago suggest that almost half of the American population dislike hospitals, so Spencer knows he’s not alone in his discomfort, but none of his facts and figures are helpful the moment he steps into the Emergency Room at St. Sebastian’s.

     The clinical scent of disinfectant sends a thousand tiny spiders crawling up his spine. He tries not to gag but he swears he can taste it at the back of his throat. Spencer forces himself to pause near the door and shuts his eyes, just for a moment, to focus on the solid ground beneath his feet rather than the lurching of his stomach.

     In his line of work, he’s no stranger to hospitals. To meandering through long, dim corridors in search of something to occupy his thoughts, of all the beige and stark white walls so bright it hurts his eyes, of lumpy hospital beds and IVs itching beneath his skin and that smell.

     He was here, not that long ago. He’d wept when they told him Emily had died in surgery, and she’s fine now, but he can still taste iron on his tongue and sometimes it’s still hard to believe she’s alive until she walks through the door unharmed.

     When he opens his eyes again, the ER is still the same, but the unpleasant churning in his stomach has started to subside. At the desk, he reels off your name, stuttering as he goes, before the nurse directs him over to Bay 3.

     I was in a car accident. That’s what you’d said on the phone, and his whole body had gone suddenly cold even though you’d seemed oddly cheery, and he’d had to remind himself to breathe. You were calling, not a nurse or a doctor, so it surely couldn’t be that bad.

     But he doesn’t believe it, not really. Not until he sets eyes on you himself. Not until he can see the truth right in front of him.

     You’re sitting cross-legged on one of the narrow ER beds. The curtain is pushed out of the way, and he can see your shoes have been tucked neatly beside the bed and your socks have little mushrooms on them. You’re not in a hospital gown but jeans, and a laugh bubbles up in his throat because your shirt says ‘meaner than I look’, which is patently untrue in his experience — but he also files this away in the rolodex of reasons you should call him Spencer, because you were going to show up to work dressed like this, and he never wants to hear the word professional out of your mouth again.

     He also wants to take a picture, kind of, because there’s something so endearing about the image. He’s often grateful to have an eidetic memory, but never more than in this moment. He wants to remember this forever.

     Spencer clears his throat as he approaches. The smile you send him as you look up and notice him is bright and wide and it makes him feel all warm and happy, like a cat curled up in a patch of sunlight.

     “What happened?” His gaze is wary as it trails over you from head to toe, quickly cataloguing all your injuries. You hadn’t explained much over the phone, and he hadn’t thought to ask in his haste to reach the hospital, but now his eyes snag on the bruise blossoming over your cheek and it’s all he can think about.

     You don’t look too bad, all things considered.

     The bruise looks worse than it feels. The collar of your shirt is speckled with blood, but the cut above your temple is shallow and sealed with two steri-strips.

     All-in-all, it could’ve been worse.

     “My tire blew while I was driving into work this morning,” you tell him as you tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “The car spun out. All of this—” You gesture vaguely at your face, “was caused by the airbag. But I’m fine.”

     It’s not that Spencer thinks you’re lying. It’s not.

     But you can’t quite look him in the eye, and you’re wearing the same guilty expression you have when you pilfer the last of the coffee, so he’s not about to take your word for it.

     A quick glance at your chart offers all the answers.

     “You have a concussion!”

     “A mild concussion! Mild! I don’t even have a headache!”

     It’s a good thing you called him— or, well, Emily, rather than your sister-in-law. According to you, Jackie has been known to freak out over a paper cut. This might have given her a coronary.

     Spencer frowns. “You needed a CT scan.”

     “Precautionary measure.” A nonchalant wave of your hand follows your words. “I’m a doctor too, remember? I’m fine. Really.”

     “They say doctors make the worst patients.”

     You grin at him. “I already had a meltdown in the bathroom earlier. Scared a nurse. I think he wanted to sedate me but then he saw my lanyard and he took me to a quiet room to decompress. I’m good, I promise.”

     The lanyard in question is covered in little sunflowers and tucked inside one of your shoes for safekeeping. Displayed on one side of the little plastic window is your Quantico identification; on the other, a little slip of paper Spencer suspects you made yourself, judging by the pink floral background and slanting script that I’m autistic and trying my fucking best.

     The sight of it is familiar to him now, the same way your smile is seared onto his brain for eternity, but he recalls seeing it for the first time and chuckling. You’d offered to get one for him, too, gleefully declaring that you’re just like a sunflower, Dr. Reid, and there’d been so many butterflies in his stomach that he could have taken flight, then and there.

     Now he merely hums, and shoves his hands deep into his pockets. Stepping back, he watches as you slip your shoes back on and shoulder your bag, having signed a release form not long before he arrived.

     “Hey, Spencer?” Your voice is small, and the way you’re looking at him, all wide-eyed and wonderful, brings those butterflies back tenfold. He hopes the flush of his cheeks isn’t too obvious.

     “Yeah?”

     “Thank you for coming to get me. I’m really okay, I promise. I’ve had worse.”

     His heart pinches.

     He doesn’t like that you’ve had worse.

     “Well,” he says, after a moment too long of staring at you, “mild or not, I’m not leaving you alone for the rest of the day. We’re going to follow the concussion protocol. 65% of people reported developing hearing and memory problems as a result of missed symptoms of head-related trauma last year.”

     You’re watching him. The corner of your eyes are a little wrinkled. A fond smile toys on your lips. “I expected nothing less, Dr. Reid.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #* chapter update.

[yourbestprincess]

Mein Kleines Mädchen

Older!König (40s) Young!reader (18- early 20s)

Giant age gap but y’know, size kink, slightly hyper fem!reader, reader is a female, König is rough and also has a cute little German accent and calls you cute pet names in German, König is also your dads bestie but not anymore! Creampie, slut-shaming but also praise , fingering.

Hope I didn’t miss anything! XD

(Gentle reminder that König is HUGE, I'm pretty sure he's 6'10 which, if you're average hight, is ginormous.)

You’ve always thought König was overly attractive, but you would never do anything…I mean he was your father’s best friend.

He always eyed you when they hung out, which was rare because he was always deployed.

König was way bigger than you were, he merely towered over you when you two would talk. Which, to say the least, you loved.

You thought he was so attractive. From how big he was to his greying ginger hair to his blue eyes which looked at you in such a way that made your stomach flutter.

****

He was finally coming over today. You were finally in collage now, in your eyes a grown woman.

He was staying the night according to your dad because he got kicked from his apartment from being gone so long, to which you weren’t complaining.

It was so early; almost too early, but you heard a knock at the door. Even before he knocked you felt his presence. Your heart pounds as you peak out of your window to see his car. You walk down the stairs, only in an oversized white t-shirt that covered your tight black shorts. You clear your shirt of any wrinkles before looking through the peephole and opening the door.

“Guten Morgen, schatz.” He smiles softly. you notice that he’s still quite dirty.

“Oh, ‘morning König.” you smile back softly before letting him in, your heart still pounding in your chest, it feels like it’s gonna run away.

He gives you a lousy side hug and drops his bags on the stairs before giving you a forehead kiss.

“Mm.” He breathes you in “Schatz, where is your father?” He backs away slightly to give you some sense of personal space.

“He’s working today until about 8:30. Sorry, I should probably let you settle in and shower I know you’re tired and-“

“Shh, liebling. Stay with me, I suppose I need some company, ja?” He looks down at you, reaching his calloused hand over and putting it on the side of your head in which you lean into.

“Okay, well first let me draw you a shower.” You bite your lip gently before leading him into the upstairs bathroom next to your room. He follows you, humming something you swear you've heard before.

"Du bist so ein liebes kleines Mädchen" (You're such a sweet little girl) König snickers while trailing so close behind you that he's basically hovering over you.

He thought you didn't understand what he was saying. You really touched up on your German before he came back from whatever mission he was on. You knew he said things to you in German before, but he never thought you'd know. Not until now. Your blood wastes no time making your cheeks hot and red with straight fluster.

He grips your arm and turns you with his mere strength. "Oh dear. Du verstehst jetzt?" (Oh dear. You understand now?) He tilts his head, squatting down to your hight.

You try to look down but he forces you to look up at him with your practically pathetic puppy eyes. "Ja...since you got deployed again. I should've told you, but I just wanted to know what you were saying to me."

His eyes feel like they're staring sharply into your soul, like he was looking straight into your heart. He knows that your heart grows and yearns from him. "Ja? Good girl." His accent spills out more when he's eager.

"C'mon lieb." He stands back up letting you finish showing him to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and make sure its the perfect temperature for such a man. You set out a towel and an unopened bar of soap.

"Okay, there you go. You can..um meet me in my room when you're done." You say with just a little bit of excitement in your voice.

"Ja, liebling." He says with a soothing voice rather than before.

As you wait in your room, you change into a pink see-though lingerie dress with a matching pink thong. To top it all off, you wear some white thigh high socks. You sit pretty on your bed and wait for him to get out of the shower.

****

You hear a knock at your bedroom door. "Hey, Liebling? Can I come in?" You ignore it for a second but before you can cover up he busts through the door.

"Mein gott liebe. Scheisse... don't do this to me. You know I can't hold back." His is heavy. It's obvious that blood went to his dick just from looking at his towel.

"I don't want you to hold back." You say as he steps into the room. His hair wet and towel barley covers his v-line. He sighs and walks closer to you.

“Mein schatz…What a fucking tease are you? Gut Gott.” He towers over your small frame, lifting up your legs and pressing kisses on your thighs as he props them up on his shoulder. His cock is fully hard, it’s throbbing and oozing out pre-cum.

“Bitte…König. You know how many years I’ve been waiting for this..” Your panties are so soaked that it’s visible. Who knew you’d be such a slut for the man who was there when your father wasn’t.

He moves your panties to the side with his middle finger. He pushes his middle and ring fingers inside you and rubs his thumb on your throbbing clit. You cry and whine under his touch. He knows how bad you need him.

“Is this too much schatz? If it is, how am I going to put this cock in you? It craves you, you know that liebling?” He takes his hand away from your wet entrance and lets the towel fall to his ankles. His cock springs up, you can see pearls of pre-cum dripping onto your bed. He gives his drooling shaft a couple of pumps before spitting on his middle and ring finger to wet your entrance just enough to fit his massive cock.

“Ready liebe?” He shoves the tip past your entrance making your shutter and whine from the size.

“Ja, you’ll be okay mein schatz.” You bite your lip and cry with him going deeper, trying to fit his 8 1/2 inches in your tight pussy that’s just taking him so well.

“König…s'too much..Bitte! Pleasepleaseplease!…” You whine and moan from the pain. Your thoughts are clouded with pure white pleasure. You know how wrong this is, but, Mein Gott, is it worth it. You're gripping his back and begging for god knows what.

“Nimm es einfach wie ein braves Mädchen, ja? Getting close for me already, Gut gott." (Just take it like a good girl, yeah?) König can't help but notice how pathetic and weak you are under him. His blunt tip pushes against your g-spot over and over again until you're crying and going cock-dumb over him.

" Du liebst es einfach, wie eine Schlampe gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr? What a good fucking girl for me." (You just love getting fucked like a slut, don't you? What a good fucking girl for me.) You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier and heavier. His breath begins to hitch and he can't help but whimper just a little from how tight his Liebe is.

"König...gonna cum right now.. Vati... fuck- feels s'good..." Before you can even think about getting close, he pulls out of you and sits down on your bed, getting comfy before motioning you to sit on his lap. You slide off your panties and see-through dress, craving that skin to skin with him.

"Ja, that's it Mein Schatz, ease down on me, you've got it Liebe" As you sink down on his fat cock, he notices that it makes an indentation on your tummy.

"S'too much König... too big." You barely make out in whimpers and cries. He continues to thrust deeper into your sopping cunt. You really hope your dad isn't gonna come home anytime soon.

"Shh, It's alright, you'll be okay Mein Liebe. Just let me use this pretty pussy, ja?" He pushes his cock so far up into you that you were genuinely surprised on how he was able to bottom out in you. His thrusts are sharp and fast with so much power that you moan everytime he thrusts. König knows you're close from the way you're clenching down on him and how loud your moans are.

"Bitte... I need to.." You cry out before König's thrusts become sharper and somehow even faster.

"I know, I know. I'm gonna come with... scheisse- come with you, okay?" He can't stop grunting now, its all pleasure now. White pleasure clouds his visions.

"Christ- Ich liebe dich schatz- fuck. I always have. And look, now I get to fuck this little body of yours and even fill you up with my cum, eh?"

His vision returns to you, already cumming on his cock. So pathetic, you can't even speak. You're too entranced at cumming on his thick cock to even think. And now here he is, filling you up with his potent cum. He pumps and twitches just a few more times until you two ride out your orgasm.

****

"Was I too much Mein liebe?" He wraps his big arms around you as you snuggle into him. warm sheets cover your bodies.

"You were perfect. Everything and more than what I was ever expecting." He wraps you into him even tighter, pressing kisses on your forehead and soft lips.

"Ich liebe dich auch, König."

Your dad's gonna be so pissed when he finds out his little girl is getting fucked by his so called best friend.

#konig smut #konig age gap #könig x reader #könig cod #könig x you #cod #könig call of duty #I love German men #cod smut

[nyonyen]

NSFW ALPHABET - michael jr.

AO3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

super talkative honestly, lots of gushing and stroking of your body

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

michael loves his smile and his nose! randal totally called them his ‘charm points’ off-screen, whatever that means :-) he absolutely adores your thighs, loves to hold them and nibble on them if you let him!

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

prefers seeing it pooled on your tongue as opposed to anything else, second place is on your stomach! he also cums pretty easily, as far as things go

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

had a strange and sudden wet dream about nyen once, it was the hardest he had ever orgasmed. he vowed to never tell anyone of this, but does it even matter if robert can see his thoughts anyway?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

none whatsoever!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary where you’re laying flat on your back and he’s kneeling— doesn’t seem like a big difference to specify, but it is for him!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

pretty goofy, with lots of smiles and small giggles throughout! gets awful lovey-dovey at random intervals which could definitely be put under the goofy umbrella

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

blond and minimal, by nature’s choice!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

michael is VERY intimate in the physical aspect most of all, takes his time to truly appreciate you. does he make grandiose proclamations of love? sometimes! but it’s all in the little things for him

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

knows everything that makes him tick when it comes to hand stuff because of this, you name it. he’s addicted and isn’t stopping anytime soon!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

pet play, mutual masturbation (important enough to him to be considered a kink), humiliation

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

just in the regular ol’ nest!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

for michael, many a thing get him going. specifically, however: you whispering in his ear. something about it… whew!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he said it best: ‘it’s going to come eventually, so you should enjoy yourself while you still can!’ regardless, don’t call him daddy, it just makes him giggle

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

obsessed with it, particularly with the way you look while you’re giving it to him. the way your eyebrows scrunch up, your cheeks hollowing… LOVES going down on you, especially when you clamp your perfect thighs around his head and pet his ears!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

i do believe all the ratmen are faster than your average human, so that’s definitely the baseline. however, he’s much more gentle than most (which isn’t saying a lot, he’s still rough by nature)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

does enjoy exploring your body fully, but if it’s all he can get? he’ll take a handjob over nothing at all! good luck getting any from him though, he doesn’t wanna leave a job unfinished and imperfect

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

to his own life? maybe not… to his psyche? maybe yes. loves a good almost getting caught in the act :-)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

michael’s is a bit higher than average for ratmen, he can get it up and going very fast!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

has most likely diyed one of those sponge glove fleshlights

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

loves a good tease when he’s on the receiving end, for sure! heightens his senses, and makes that climax much more worth it. if you don’t tease him during sex, then he thinks what was the point?!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

unapologetic squeaks and laughing moans throughout, with raises in pitch towards the end of course!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

would fuck any of the ratmen in a heartbeat if they asked

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

3 ½ inches, on the thinner side

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

nearly 24/7… but don’t worry! michael can handle it himself if you’re all tuckered out

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

after a session of yapping as aftercare + half a case of beer? homeboy is out of commission for quite a bit!

#kinder surprised michael jr x reader #michael jr x reader #ratmen x reader #ranfren x reader #✎

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

WE NEED SOME LYRA AND GRAY HCS 🙏

OKAYYYYY 🤭🤭🤭🙌

- grayson calls her “ms. kane” when he’s teasing her but usually just calls her “my love” or just “love” 🤭

- she’s the only one who can make him blush, and somehow managed to do it in front of his brothers. they all cheered and snapped a photo, but grayson went onto all of their phones and deleted it 💀

- whenever grayson plans a visit with gigi and sav they always make him bring lyra too because they “love her more than him” (in a joking way, but gray still told lyra and she found it funny)

- when grayson first met her parents, lyra forced him to wear a NORMAL outfit (normal pants and a nice shirt) and his brothers were all speechless when he left the house 😭😭

- whenever xander can’t get grayson to agree to something stupid, he always makes lyra ask (and he always say yes to her 🤭)

- he loves giving her nose kisses and she loves giving him forehead kisses

- before gray and lyra became a thing, gray used to wake up at around 5:30, but after they started dating and lyra started sleeping in his bed she made him get up at 7 instead because “nobody should be waking up at that time” (he’s lowk grateful for it though because he ends up feeling more energized when he does wake up)

- THIS ONES MORE A SPECIFIC SITUATION BUT STILL!!

- gray, lyra, avery, libby, max, xan, Jamie, and nash were all swimming in the pool to cool off on a hot day, when suddenly jameson pushes lyra into the pool (they’re besties so it was in a joking way 💀)

- gray gives him a look, and when lyra comes up for air and starts saying “ow, jameson you made me scrape my ankle really hard, I think it’s bleeding” the look turns into a lecture

- lyra puts a hand out for gray to hold and help her out, when suddenly her pained expression turns into a devilish grin. She tugs on his hand, and sends him flying into the pool. everybody starts laughing, when Xander’s eyes go wide and he starts telling lyra to swim to the little stairs thing that gets you out of the pool (help I forgot what it’s called 💀)

- lyra realizes at the same time what everyone else did, that she needed to swim away as fast as she could. why? because she, who is the most average and slow swimmer to ever walk this planet, just pushed a practically olympic swimmer into a pool. NOT a good idea. 💀

- she swims away, going underwater to help her move faster, when her legs suddenly get pulled from behind her. She gets spinned around and is suddenly face to face with grayson. he’s smiling, and has the same devilish expression that lyra wore earlier. taking her up with him for air, he puts an arm under her legs and one on her back and carries her out of the water baby style. xander grins and steps toward grayson, and suddenly he was carrying her ankles, and grayson was holding her arms. they threw her into the pool, and grayson teased her for the rest of the day for being a slow swimmer 🙄💗

- he’s very big on hand placement, so he always has a hand on her thigh or around her waist 🤭🙌

- lyra is a very light sleeper, meanwhile graysons a DEEP sleeper. because of this, lyra could bang pots and pans in the morning and still not wake him up, but if grayson tries to get her head off his chest with even the slightest movement in the morning she’ll immediately wake up 💀

- he’s obsessed with how she looks in dresses with the leg slit (😻) and always tells her how beautiful she looks wearing them

- grayson is in love with lyras voice, so whenever he’s having a panic attack she’s always there whispering sweet things in his ear, or even just stories that she grew up being read, and it always calms him down 😭💗💗

- acacia loves lyra and lyras mom (assuming she has a good relationship with her mom) loves grayson 🫶🫶

- grayson loves to braid lyras hair, so sometimes when she gets out of the shower and is about to go to bed he’ll braid it 💗💗

- grayson loves how she looks in dark red lipstick and can’t stop kissing her whenever she does wear it 🤭🤭

- and she loves how he looks in suits (although she’ll never admit it because she doesn’t want his ego to get somehow bigger 💀)

- grayson always has to lie about how much he spends on clothes/gifts for lyra cuz she’ll be mad if he spends too much 💀

- for example it’d go like this:

- “hey gray, how much did you spend on this necklace you got me?”

-“$60.”

-“are you sure? dont lie”

“……$600”

“are you serious?? that’s way too much to spend on a necklace!”

“okay, then you’re not gonna like the actual price..”

“why? what’s the actual price?”

“…”

“grayson…”

“just… just add one more zero…”

“$6000?????”

- because of that whole thing, she’s somehow convinced him to not spend too much money on her (he still does anyway 💀)

OKAY THATS ALL THANKS FOR THE REQUEST 🫶🫶

#lyra kane #grayson hawthorne #lyra and gray #lyra x grayson #the grandest game #the inheritance games #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #xander hawthorne #my hcs #jennifer lynn barnes #maxine liu #libby grambs

[where-dreamers-go]

“Teasingly Sweet” Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: Here’s part three after “Lucky Treat” of 90s Robin and Reader. What happens when Robin thinks he’s the one having bad luck? Also, do they know what’s even going on between them? Warnings: Use of (Y/N), slight angst maybe, spicy times of a makeout session, and fluff. Word Count: 2,321 words)

~~~

Gotham City had its fair share of people. Even masked heroes and creative villains who had eventful nights compared to their civilian days.

You, on the other hand, were having a pretty tame evening. The day had been productive, however nothing was too much to handle. A really decent day that lead to you grabbing a well deserved treat from a confectionary in the city.

Street lights and buildings kept the streets lit well enough.

You kept an awareness to your surroundings. Keeping your mind mostly on what moved around you and partially on ideas of what a certain masked hero could be up to.

Hopefully, Robin is alright, you thought as you held a light box of delicious treats close. He usually is. That we know of. You kept your jacket zipped up, an extra layer against the chilly night air.

After deciding to take a detour to avoid the growing crowd at a coffee shop, you annoyingly realized there was even more activity down the busy street. Lights flashed and news vans lined the road to boarder the sidewalks. Much too close for you to ignore.

Really? You thought, I don’t need this today. Pivoting on the spot, you turned with every intention of squeezing passed the line for coffee on your route home. Safety first.

You had very good intentions and determination to avoid any trouble. The good luck you were having again recently was not going to be thrown away on your watch. No way. There were treats to be had.

Just keep walking and you’ll be fine. No big deal. Average Gotham City night.

Average night, was it?

Was it not uncommon for a crook to flee from a police car?

Was it also the usual night for a crook to head straight toward you without your knowledge?

Definitely not.

Heavy footfalls came in rapid succession behind you.

Alarmed, you turned to the noise and saw a person, wrists cuffed, headed your way. Despite the initial scare, you were able to see a positive. Another person coming your way.

Robin sped forward, almost flying across the concrete to intercept the crook. Cape rippling behind him, your hero launched himself through the air.

Whoa.

You watched on in awe as Robin flipped over the guy and took him down in the process.

Oh, dang.

Hopping back to his feet, Robin spotted you as the crook peered around in a daze.

“Close call, sweets.” Robin said, looking you over. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” You clutched the dessert box in your grasp. “You?”

“I’d be better if this guy didn’t run off, especially too close to you.”

“I’m okay.”

“Good. How ab—hey,” Robin held the guy more firmly as he struggled against the hero. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” You stood quietly beside a building. The chill in the air made you shiver slightly.

All the movement remained about seven yards away, reporters trying to get closer to Robin and the dark looming figure of Batman stood by officers. Quite the sight really. There was no way you would want to be tangled up in that mess, even if it was under control.

Taking the time to check around, you deemed the area around the sidewalk boring and safe. Almost an oddity for Gotham City.

Can’t believe how fast Robin got that guy, you thought. He just…flipped and… Did he use his legs? I don’t know.

In less than about five minutes, Robin strutted towards you. Really heroic in that cape too. Yet he wasn’t smiling as you thought he might.

Is he okay? Did something else happen?

“Hey,” you said softly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just…a lot of little things going wrong. Nothing I can’t handle, but it’s irritating.”

“Bad luck today?”

“Yeah,” he laughed half-heartedly. “You know a bit about that, huh?”

“A bit. But I know what can make it a little better.” You smiled as he perked up at your words. “I have some ice cream at my place and cookies, if that’ll make it any better.”

Robin smirked, “Are you inviting me to your place?”

“Yeah. If you want,” you shrugged, shy. A little nervous perhaps considering how much of a fan you were of Robin.

He’s walked me home before, you thought, and drove me home on his bike. Plus we’ve… Woo. Yeah. Okay, this could be interesting.

“Sounds better than how my night’s been going so far.” Robin replied.

“It can be my gift to you.” You quickly added, “You’ve helped me before and now. Why not give you something? You do so much already for everyone.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

You smiled. “I was headed home now. If you’re not through crime-fighting, I won’t take the ice cream out just yet.”

“You’d wait for me?”

“Yeah. It— Is that weird?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m flattered, but you shouldn’t have to wait that long. Give me a minute.”

You nodded and watched as he returned to the busy press-filled sidewalk.

I can’t believe this is happening again, you thought, feeling your heart rate pick up again. But…inside my apartment. I’m so glad it’s not a mess.

After wrapping up business with Batman, Robin jogged over to you with a charming smile.

On the way to your place, you two talked, caught up on anything new, and were very close. For chilly weather reasons, obviously. Robin was easy to talk to and wasn't completely full of himself. He knew what he was capable of and he didn't flaunt it.

Entering your apartment, you kicked off your shoes by the door.

“Make yourself at home.” You said as you set down the box of treats on the counter.

“Thank you. Nice place.”

“Thanks,” you smile warmly to him and walked over to the couch a few feet away to unzip your jacket.

“Is the box off-limits?” Robin asked, coming to stand by the end of the kitchen counter.

“Sorry, it is. This was for a well-productive day. From me, for me.”

He hummed in appreciation, “Is it cake?”

“…No.” You turned away slowly and took off your jacket.

“Sure.”

It was then that you realized what you were wearing.

Crap, you thought and tried thinking of a way to hide the prominent ‘R’ decorated on the upper left of your Robin fan club shirt. Be subtle about it.

Left arm raised, pretending to scratch your neck, you attempted masking some of it from view as you walk back into the kitchen.

“So, uh, you can pick whichever cookies you want out of the pantry there.” You offered and quietly sighed as he did so.

“Hmm.” He turned around with a sleeve of cookies. “Sweet as you.”

“Gotta have some on hand in case of a bad day,” you shrugged.

“I’d say my bad luck has disappeared at the sight of you.”

Smiling, you replied, “I could say the same. You did show up when I was having a terrible birthday.”

“And how’d that go?” Robin smirked.

Like he doesn’t know! You flirt.

“Well, after a really nice walk, I got a gift from you. So, I think it went really well.” Moving in the kitchen, you reached into the top cabinet, grabbed two bowls, and turned to set them onto the countertop. No clumsiness included.

“Did you like your gift?”

Oh, now he’s full on teasing.

“Very much.”

He smirked, happily confident. Blue eyes sparkling in the warm light.

Opening a drawer, you took out two spoons and quickly set them by the bowls. “I hope you don’t mind (flavor) ice cream.” You said and stepped to the refrigerator.

“I don’t mind any flavor you give me.”

After nearly choking on spit from Robin’s words, you pulled out a carton of ice cream with images of its contents all over. The thin ice coating its edges relieved some the heat radiating from your hands.

I’m going to be fanning myself with a magazine if he keeps this up, you thought.

Leaning on the counter, Robin watched you prepare to bowls of ice cream with a smile. Every move he caught with curious and attentive eyes.

“Is this good?” You asked, spoon in hand.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Robin walked over to stand beside you and took up the second spoon.

“Beats running around outside?”

“I’d take being here with you over chasing down some guy determined to ruin people’s day for the thrill of it. This is more fun.”

Apparently smiling while eating ice cream was a minor challenge. The two of you took that challenge with ease. Ice cream with good company definitely brightened both Robin’s and your day.

It was a wonder how you were comfortable enough with him to invite Robin inside. Then again, you were a fan and had gotten to know him quite a bit during your last two meetings. You were proud of yourself for asking.

Why shouldn’t you gift a little with whatever type of relationship you two had going?

What’s he thinking? You wondered as you saw him looking at you with your peripheral vision. I mean, he probably has to leave soon. I guess. You quietly set your spoon down in the empty bowl. I wish he could stay a little longer.

“You know,” Robin started as he put the spoon down, “I owe you a ‘thank you’ for your gift. Inviting me in and treating me to ice cream and cookies. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s about time I gift you something. Something other than one piece of candy.”

“And about thanking you…”

Robin’s gloved hand pulled you in by the waist. A move he definitely perfected as he instantly kissed you. Stealing your breath, Robin kept the pace slow as his lips pressed against yours. Dizzyingly passionate as he curled his other arm around your back.

Another kiss for the record.

Eyes shut for a moment, you broke for air. Your hands finding purchase on his biceps.

Even with his knee-shaking kisses, you needed to know something. To ask one thing.

“Is this...casual for you or…?” You left the question open ended.

How do I even ask this?

Robin took one of your hands and pressed it against the pulse point on his neck. A rapid pulse. “Lately, I've been wondering the same thing, but... I think I only want this from you.”

“Your heart racing?”

“It can be calm too. But not when I think of seeing you again. You’re all I can think about some times.”

“Just me?”

“You and me.”

You pulled him in for a hard kiss. Fingers in his hair, you deepened the kiss with all you had. In turn, Robin held you impossibly close to his body. Both of you expressing what you wanted and tasting of frozen dessert with no signs of stopping. 

Neither of you had to be anywhere else.

Leading you backwards through the apartment, Robin continued pressing his lips to yours. You stumbled to keep up, not knowing where you were headed when you mind was on how he teased your lips with his tongue.

“Oof.”

Your world turned sideways and Robin was all you could feel as you landed onto the couch. The cushions softening the fall onto your back. His cape covering you both as limbs entangled.

Time passed further into the night. Both you and Robin showed no hints of leaving the couch. If anything, it appeared as if you two would remain there much longer.

Panting breathes were exchanged between wet lips and heavy gazes. It was getting a little hot in the apartment.

Hands intertwined tightly over your head, neither of you dared break contact.

“We should probably stop,” you murmured.

“Probably,” Robin said into their neck. He rolled his pelvis onto yours. “Ahh. I should go.”

You bit your lip, keeping yourself quiet as your legs instinctively hugged him closer. Fingers still locked together with his gloved hands.

Robin. Oh, please. You thought as you felt your mind slowly floating away with pleasure, of being with him.

Placing another kiss on your neck, Robin kept a slow and sensual pace with you. His eyes fluttered shut as the two of you continued.

No thoughts of responsibilities or anyone else. No worries of where either of you should or should not be. Only thoughts of being closer together and all of the feelings that came with it all.

“Robin.” Back arching, his name escaped you like a plea.

Above you, he stopped completely and released your hands. “We can’t. As much as I really, really want to…” He looked you over in your half blissful state as he blinked away his own fog of pleasure. Shaking his head, he added, “Not while I’m like this…as Robin.”

You nodded, processing his words. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you kissed his forehead.

Smiling, Robin kissed you again. Much shorter that time, but with no less affection. He pulled you up with him into a sitting position, chuckling at your disheveled appearance.

“And maybe we can pick up on where we left off?” He lightly pulled at your shirt and added, “With your fan shirt.”

“Sure. Maybe without your mask and cape?”

His hands held you to him, “More cotton and less…”

“Whatever this is made of?” You knocked your knuckles onto the front of his suit. “As long as it protects you, it’s fine.”

“It does the job.”

“Good.” You pecked his lips.

Reluctantly, the visit had came to a close as you walked him to the door. The pair of you shared one more kiss, a promise.

“Good night,” you murmured.

“Good night. See yah soon, (Y/N).”

Robin left your apartment quietly and went off into the night air.

What have you two gotten into?

Was he, the Robin, really going to reveal his civilian identity to you?

Was that even allowed?

Was it safe?

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @

90s Dick Grayson Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#90s robin #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #batman forever #batman and robin #where dreamers go #dick grayson imagine #imagines

[neonbyte-if]

This looks absolutely fantastic! I love the world-building and the whole cyberpunk vampire aesthetic! Plus, I absolutely love Ramón and Zoia already! My poor bisexual heart won't be able to choose between them. You mentioned the option to choose between different origins. Can you tell us more about what those would entail/how they would affect the player experience? So sorry if this question has already been asked!

Hellooo thank you!! As a fellow bisexual it's very difficult to think about these characters without just dying D:

So I'll be doing an official post for the origins in a short while but for now here's the rundown. Bear in mind this is just what I have in my notes atm, things may change!!

Shadow Circuit Origin:

Located on the ground far beneath the towering skyline of Manhattan, these are the slums of the NEON // BYTE world. This maze of run-down streets is in a state of perpetual nighttime, the sun blocked by the city in the sky. It is absolutely teeming with poverty and crime.

MC was an orphan who was watched over by a tough but compassionate old lady, Mrs. Sim, and grew up with the other street kids. It was either a life of crime, or no life at all.

Because of this, a SC Origin has an immediate boost in the agility and firearms stats; the ability to traverse the environment for a quick getaway, and, failing that, the ability to shoot their way out. This also unlocks origin-specific dialogue options relating to the Shadow Circuit and its inner workings.

Dead Drop Origin:

What separates the Shadow Circuit from the Empire District are the skyscrapers in between that have been transformed into an indoor city. This is where the people lucky enough not to end up in the Shadow Circuit scratch out a living. Tiny apartments and huge factories, the blue bloods like to remind the working class that a happy life is a productive one.

MC grew up with their neighbors Tomas and Riella, and the three of them lived like adopted siblings, looking out for each other since their parents were always away on work. The trio ran a workshop in the marketplace, MC tinkering with weapons and other bits of tech for them to sell.

A DD Origin starts with boosted stats in melee and tech; they know just how to pack a punch (because guns in a crowded market were a no-no), and, obviously, have a much better grasp of technology than the average person. This also unlocks origin-specific dialogue options relating to the Dead Drop and its inner workings.

Empire District Origin:

The Empire District is a whole other world separate from the cities it sits atop. Bathed in sunlight, and the only place you'll find real plant life in the city, Higher Manhattan is where the rich and powerful make their home. Top of the line flying vehicles, luxury mansions, tasteful corporate buildings, all shiny and chrome and willfully ignorant of the suffering of those beneath them.

MC grew up with ridiculous wealth in crippling isolation. Their every move watched from the moment of their birth, they went through life attending extravagant parties with no expectations on them but one: perfection. LOVEJOY, a partially retired world-famous celebrity, took MC under his wing, wanting them to avoid the mistakes he made at their age.

An ED origin gives boosted starting stats in tactics and charisma; years of every move being a calculated one allows for an MC that can think ahead, and has a better understanding of the intricacies of a conversation. This also unlocks origin-specific dialogue options relating to the Empire District and its inner workings.

Overall:

BEAR IN MIND: the stats above aren't something you're entirely locked into. You won't be forced into being a smooth-talker from the Empire District; you can simply choose the other dialogues. All these stat bonuses do is grant you a better chance of success if you DO select these options and continue to build on them as the game progresses :)

SO I want the origins to have an effect on the story MORE in a narrative sense than a mechanics one.

First of all, there's a playable origin chapter for BEFORE MC becomes a vampire so you get to go experience daily life along with the Thing That Changes Everything. That means me writing three origin chapters separately because there's no way of linking those together, they're too different.

There are certain scenes, too, that will be very different later in the game unless you're on a specific origin route. Obviously reunions with each of the origin NPCs, but more than that...

I wanted extra bonuses for each path so it'd be fun to play through each origin!! So it won't just be a case of catching up with old friends, I wanted to make sure I could involve unique scenes with your ROs and/or BFF for each one.

Meaning: there'll be certain romance/friendship scenes you won't get unless you're on a specific origin path, BUT there'll be the same AMOUNT of those scenes on each playthrough.

So if you're romancing Emery, for example, and you're on a Shadow Circuit origin route, you'll unlock a bonus scene in act one with Emery.

But if you're romancing them on a Dead Drop origin, you won't get that scene; instead, you'll get a different bonus scene of an equivalent value in act two.

Aaaand with an Empire District origin, you'll be waiting until act three to get a bonus scene!!

LASTLY (oml this was supposed to be short), each origin offers a unique solution to a problem you come across in each act.

In the Shadow Circuit in act one, you'll find yourself in trouble on the streets. If you're not from around these parts, you're gonna have a shitty time. You don't know your way around, you don't know anyone from here; it's just going to suck. BUT if you are from around here, you'll know where to go, leading to a bunch of scenes the other origins won't see. And at the end of the act, you'll find yourself with some extra help that give more unique scenes!!

I want to make sure I'm balancing fairness here, so, as I said, narrative over mechanics. I don't want the player to be punished for not being on a certain route (like if they don't get the help in act one, I don't want them to fail or someone to die because of it), but I DO want you to enjoy unique scenes and dialogues for roleplay purposes.

SO YEAH, if anyone read all that, there you go! Have all...that. Direct from my sleep-addled mind.

#answered #anonymous #neon byte

[janetbrown711]

Melatonin

Louie can't sleep after an adventure gone wrong, his mother's words echoing in his head like the worst worst record, and so he seeks solace with his dear old Uncle Donald.

Ao3 Link

Louie was tired, which wasn’t surprising for 2:17 in the morning. It had also been a long, long day of adventuring and he had been grateful when he finally was able to throw himself on his bunk bed.

Unfortunately though, Louie couldn’t sleep.

His back and legs ached something fierce from all of the above-average amounts of running and walking and climbing he had to do, and there was this weight on his chest that caused his heart to pound, keeping his eyes and mind on alert.

Insomnia was nothing new for the youngest duck brother, of course, but that didn’t make it any less annoying (especially with Dewey’s tendency to snore). He’d normally just go on his phone and scroll through social media until his eyes decided to close, but it didn’t feel right tonight. No, his feed was too full of Webby and Dewey’s photos of their adventure. Photos of Scrooge, Huey, and Della were on every post, with Louie having to swipe through to find any with him in them.

That wasn’t their fault though, Louie really hadn’t been in the mood today for hiking mountains and fighting bears and bear-like monsters to find some mystic honey stirrer. The photos of him were blurry and embarrassing, unlike the usual where he’d at least pose with the treasure or he and Webby had some kind of fun side quest.

A chill ran through Louie that made him sit up and sigh, rubbing the bandages around one of his hands as he tried to think of what to do.

He could go to the kitchen and if Duckworth wasn’t too busy ghost-sleeping, he could make him some tea..? No, no, Louie hated tea more than Scrooge hated to waste it. Something else then… like watching YouTube? No, his feed was overrun with videos about Doofus Drake and Scrooge McDuck sightings and hustler videos that Louie really didn’t have an interest in (at least… not right now). He could try counting sheep, but– but there was something else on his mind playing on repeat instead.

“C’mon Louie, it’s just one more mile, don’t get lazy on me now.” His mother smiled at him, hands on her hips and a bouncy energy that just made him even more tired by the second.

“Yeah, Louie! C’mon, it’ll be totally cool to see the top of the mountain,” Huey encouraged too.

“If I don’t die before then,” Louie panted, leaning back against a tree.

Della tsked and rolled her eyes. “You sound just like your uncle, you know that?”

Louie perked up at that, but before he could say anything, Dewey punched him in the arm as he and Webby sped by.

“See ya later, slowpokes!” he called out mockingly as Webby made a face.

“Hey! We’re supposed to be on the lookout for bears, you two!” Della laughed and hurried to go join them.

“Hey–! Wait for us!” Huey shouted and started scurrying off too, and Louie had no choice but to follow.

…Louie didn’t know why his mind was focusing on it– it wasn’t a big deal, really. They all made it eventually, even if Louie missed the “big reveal” and family photo op. They had hundreds of those, Louie being gone from one or two or however many at this point wasn’t a big deal. He was the lazy one, after all. Consequences, simple as that.

“If you want to be part of this family, you got to–”

Louie shot up and out of bed, startled by his own memory as the pounding in his chest only increased.

“It’s just a stupid memory, Louie. Just shut up and go back to sleep,” he muttered to himself before checking if he’d awoken his brothers. Thankfully, the answer was no, so Louie was left to… well, as much as he wanted to, he was in no condition to go back to bed. He was still stuck in “fight or flight” mode, so he needed to walk around– maybe to find some melatonin.

As good as that sounded though, he knew the numerous bathrooms barely even had toilet paper, much less medications due to how stingy Scrooge was. If there was melatonin to be found, it probably expired in 1986 and probably had a nightmare shadow creature trapped inside for extra measure.

Then again, Uncle Donald always kept his melatonin and other vitamins stocked, so maybe Louie could just go to the houseboat to check? Hopefully he could do so without waking his uncle, but if he caught him, it wasn’t like he’d get in trouble.

Louie bit his cheek, finding his phone and unplugging it to check the time, annoyed but not surprised it had only been two minutes. With a sigh, Louie put his phone in his pajama pocket, and quietly crept out of his room into the halls of the manor.

Nights like these always made the mansion feel haunted– more than by Duckworth, anyways. His uncle was crazy old and so was his choice in curtains and decoration. While Duckworth and Beakley kept dust away, the moonlight had this uncanny way of pointing out every crack and crevice that was previously unknown. Plus, the quiet made the creaking wood and pipes a lot more noticeable, and with Louie, being in the state that he was, picked up the pace to avoid it as much as possible.

Thankfully, the courtyard wasn’t too hard to get to and soon, Louie was back sneaking his way on the houseboat like it was nothing.

While it took a second to get used to, the familiar sway and creaking of the houseboat was comforting for the young duck, and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way to the bathroom’s medicine cabinet for raiding.

In there, he found a half empty bottle of aspirin, a thing of tums, an empty paper cup, some mouthwash, but no sign of any melatonin.

“Well… frick,” Louie muttered to himself, closing the mirror and nearly jumping out of his skin when he heard footsteps just outside.

“Hello?” called out the tired and scratchy voice of Louie’s uncle.

Busted.

“Sorry, Uncle Dee, I was just looking for some melatonin to nab.” Louie’s face was red as he flicked the light off and stepped out to the small hallway.

His uncle smiled pitifully at him. “Can’t sleep?”

Louie shook his head.

“I keep that in my room now since you three moved out.” Donald chuckled. “I can grab it for you, and I can make some tea too, if you’d like.”

Louie bit his cheek. It was getting late, but as much as Louie wanted to just take the melatonin and hope his feelings would just drown out, he couldn’t deny having a cup of sleepytime tea with his uncle would help.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Louie gave a crooked little smile, which made his uncle chuckle again and ruffle his hair before going to the kitchen. Louie followed, sliding into the circular booth and watching as his uncle pulled out the dented old kettle and filled it with water.

“Have you gotten any sleep at all?” his uncle asked, watching it fill.

Louie shook his head. “No, not really… I’m more surprised you’re awake though, I really thought it would be an easy in-and-out.”

“You’d be surprised how raising triplets and being ex-navy can affect how light you sleep.” His uncle winked and turned the water off.

Louie snorted. “I think Mom could sleep through a bombing.”

“Yeah, that’s Della all right.” Donald’s voice wavered a bit, though he quickly turned to muttering in frustration as it took a second before his stove would light. It eventually did, and once that was all settled he sighed and leaned against the counter. “So what’s keeping you up this time, Lou?”

“Oh, you know… adventure stuff, I guess,” Louie danced around the details, picking at the bandage on his hand.

His uncle’s eyes landed on it, and based on his reaction, it seemed he hadn’t noticed his injury at dinner. “Are you okay? What happened? Did Huey or Webby do the bandaging? Or was it Dewey? Not that he does a bad job, he just always forgets the Neosporin–”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, Uncle Dee– really,” Louie forced a smile. “It’s just a minor scrape, I promise.”

“You know, I’ve always told Scrooge you boys need better gloves and gear just so situations like this don’t happen.” Donald shook his head and left the kitchen, muttering under his breath the whole time.

Welp. Better than a scolding to stay safer, Louie thought to himself as he closed his eyes for a second.

When he opened them again, his uncle was back with a first aid kit and a bottle of melatonin.

“Here, let me look at it,” Donald asked, taking a seat next to Louie.

“It’s fine, Uncle Donald,” Louie tried to assure him, but his uncle didn’t relent, taking his hand and quickly unwrapping the bandage.

His uncle frowned, inspecting it. “This doesn’t look like a regular scrape. What happened?”

“It was just a sharp rock, I swear.” Louie looked away to try and mask the lie.

Donald didn’t seem to believe it, but focused his efforts more on adding some neosporin to his cut before finding a suitable gauze pad, bringing Louie momentarily relief.

“Who wrapped this the first time? And how long was it between hurting yourself and getting bandaged?” Donald interrogated.

“Dewey when we got back to the plane, I guess– it’s really not a big deal, Uncle Donald, I’m fine,” Louie tried to push, but he could see Donald’s eye twitch.

“No one had a first aid kit? Not even Huey?” Donald asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“He ran out using it on Webby and Dewey and Launchpad.” Louie shrugged. “Seemed only fair to let them have it this time anyways, since I’m usually the one taking all the supplies.”

Donald frowned, now taking the roller bandage and wrapping his wrist twice before going diagonally to the outside of his pinky. “I don’t like you thinking like that; your safety and health matters just as much as anyone else’s– even if you’ve got worse luck and tire out quicker.”

“Sure,” Louie sighed, looking at the kettle and seeing the steam starting to escape, a squeal imminent.

“I’m serious, Louie. I don’t want you talking like that. You deserve as much love and care as anyone else.” His uncle looked at him seriously, but the ten-year-old avoided eye contact.

Donald frowned, finishing the bandaging just as the kettle began to squeal and put a brief pause to go deal with that.

“If you want a place in this family–”

Stop. Just stop, Louie hissed in his mind. He hated that stupid video and that stupid memory. It was so long ago, there really wasn’t a point for it to be on repeat like it was. Yeah, his mom joked that if he hadn’t been so clumsy on the last adventure then Huey wouldn’t have ran out of bandages, but like… that was different. Louie was fine. It was fine. It was cool.

“So are you going to actually tell me how you hurt yourself, or are you going to keep me guessing all night?” Donald sighed, pouring the hot water into two mugs.

“It was a sharp rock, I promise.” Louie bit his cheek.

“Right.” His uncle’s shoulders sagged, before he shook his head and set the kettle down. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Adventures are hard sometimes, I get it– plus, I know I can be a little protective–”

Louie laughed.

Donald rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe more than a little protective, but you know… someone’s gotta.”

Louie’s smile faded and his eyes went back to his hands.

His uncle hummed in amusement as he got the tea bags and began brewing before returning with mugs in hand to the booth. “I’m sorry today was rough. I wish I could’ve been there.”

Louie waved his hand. “You would’ve gotten hurt a lot more than me.”

“Yeah, but at least Della knows to carry three extra kits whenever I’m around,” Donald laughed, and a lump formed in Louie’s throat.

“Right, yeah.” Louie tried to ignore it, tapping his fingers on the glass as he urged the tea to brew faster.

When it was done, he could feel his uncle's eyes on him as he took a sip of tea, searching and scanning like they had many times before. It was how he eventually learned to detect Louie's schemes, and it never failed to make Louie feel small.

To his surprise though, instead of saying anything, Donald wrapped an arm around Louie and pulled him to his side, kissing his head and hugging him tight. It made the lump tighten and tears threaten to form, the pressure building so tight Louie might just burst.

“I love you, Louie. You know that?” his uncle whispered.

Louie could only nod.

“I love you very, very much, Lou. I care about your health and safety, and I want you to be happy more than anything else in the whole wide world, do you understand?” Donald continued.

Louie nodded again, his lower lip beginning to tremble.

His uncle hugged him tighter. “Louie, I want you to tell me what’s hurting you. You don’t have to give details– but know that nothing is too much for me, okay? I want to help you… please…”

The ‘please’ shattered Louie’s resolve. He opened his mouth to speak maybe three times, before he eventually croaked it out:

“Why… doesn’t mom… like me..?”

Donald let out a quiet gasp, filling Louie with instant regret that broke him down into a sobbing mess in an instant.

“Oh, Louie.” His uncle pulled Louie onto his lap now, hugging him tight as he rocked back and forth while the ten-year-old just buried his face in his chest.

“S-sh-she– It-it’s like– She likes H-Huey, a-and Dewey, a-and even Webby– b-but– b-but–”

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Donald hugged him a little tighter, and Louie could tell he was crying too.

“I-I keep screwing u-up– a-and it’s like– i-it’s like she ca-can’t even tell a-and she just– she hates me, Unca’ Donald, she hates me,” Louie wept.

“Della doesn’t hate you, Louie, she just doesn’t understand, I promise,” Donald tried to assure, but Louie just shook his head.

“Sh-she keeps– she keeps calling me lazy a-and she makes fun of me wh-when I fail a-and even get hurt– it hurts so much, Unca’ Donald, it hurts so much,” Louie confessed, a wave of sorrow crashing down with the realization.

“I’m so sorry, Lou…” his uncle’s voice cracked. “I wish she didn’t. I really, really wish she didn’t– but old habits die hard, I’m so sorry.”

It took Louie a moment to process what his uncle said, and when he did, he sat up a bit. “Y-you mean she does that to you too?”

Donald nodded with a sad smile. “Everyone does, but Del and Scrooge especially. I used to joke that’s the only reason they kept me around.”

Louie’s heart managed to break a second time and he practically leapt to hug his uncle. “M’so sorry, I-I never meant to– I just– I’m so sorry, Uncle Donald.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Lou. I’ve learned to accept it.” Donald rubbed his back.

“But you shouldn’t have to! I-it sucks– I hate being just a joke to them, a-and you’re so much more than that too!” Louie broke the embrace again.

“Louie, you aren’t a joke to them, I promise. You have that wonderful mind of yours that’s always so good at planning and scheming and escaping and they value that tremendously.” Donald put his hands on Louie’s shoulders.

Louie looked at the ground. “Even mom..?”

Donald gave a long sigh. “Your mom is… new to this. She doesn’t understand how you work yet and assumes you won’t take it personally, like how I would act– but that doesn’t make it right. She loves you, but she just doesn’t know how to, and I’m sorry that hurts you…”

Louie looked away, his mom’s words echoing again in his mind.

“If you want to be a part of this family, you gotta stop.”

“She… she said if I wanted to be a part of this family, I had to stop scheming– had to stop the one thing I’m good at,” Louie whispered.

He could see his uncle’s shoulders tense. “When did she say that..?”

“When you were gone after the ‘timephoon incident’.” Louie sniffled, wiping away hot tears as he stared at his mug.

Donald gave another long, heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, Louie. I wish she understood you, I really, really do…”

“Sh-she also– I hurt my hand because she didn’t see me slipping. She didn’t help me– sh-she assumed I’d be okay, but I’m not okay– it’s not okay, Uncle Donald, it’s not.” Louie shook his head and curled up to Donald’s side, and his uncle wrapped an arm around him.

“I’m so sorry, Lou. Della just gets so wrapped up in her own head, she has a hard time recognizing people aren’t always at her level.” Donald rested his head atop Louie’s and squeezed him.

“I-I felt so alone today– I hate feeling alone,” Louie confessed more.

“I know, Louie, I know. And if it helps, you’ll always have me no matter what, okay? There’s nothing you could do to make me hate or leave you. You’ll always be my little Louie, and even if we get separated, I’ll always find my way back– even if it’s the moon,” Donald pointed out with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Uncle Donald.” Louie nuzzled closer. “I wish mom understood you too.”

His uncle laughed weakly. “Maybe one day… but in the meantime, I’m lucky to have you.”

Louie couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “I’m lucky to have you too, Uncle Donald.”

The pair of them sat in silence for a while, with Louie curled extra tight to his side and Donald holding him nice and close. It was calming, especially with the slow eb and flow of the pool water. All that crying had exhausted Louie, and he figured his uncle likely felt the same. However, Louie couldn’t even imagine going back to his bunk now, not when he felt his uncle needed him as much as he needed Donald.

“I’ll try and talk to her. It’ll be slow and I don’t know how she’ll take it, but I’ll talk to her,” Donald suddenly spoke up. “Uncle Scrooge too, for that matter.”

Louie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t gotta do that, it probably won’t change anything.”

“I have to try, Lou.” Donald looked down at him. “You’re worth at least trying.”

Louie didn’t have a response for that, so he just nuzzled back close and there was quiet again.

Louie liked the quiet. It was much better than the eerie silence of the manor, and how it would always be broken abruptly by some creaking wood or wind whirling down the chimney. On the houseboat, the sounds were constant, like a lullaby. The splashing of the water, the squeaking old metal, the soft hum of the old AC unit– it always knew how to put Louie to sleep.

“Uncle Donald?” he suddenly spoke up.

“Yes?”

“Can I… stay here with you tonight?” Louie glanced back up at him.

Donald’s face melted into a soft smile. “Of course, Lou. You’re welcome here any time.”

“Good.” Louie smiled too, before yawning.

His uncle chuckled before yawning himself. “Looks like we should get going to bed, huh?”

“I could stay up longer,” Louie lied, making his uncle roll his eyes.

“Drink some tea before you take that melatonin, I don’t want it going to waste,” Donald lightly teased before getting up and drinking more of his own.

Louie nodded, beginning to chug before he remembered he really wasn’t that big of a fan of tea, and so set it down again. “Is… that enough?” Louie asked.

Donald laughed. “Yes, yes, it’s fine, I’m just joking, no need to force yourself.”

Louie smiled before struggling to open the bottle of melatonin. Noticing this, his uncle walked over and helped him retrieve the yellow pill, which Louie took with a little bit of tea. After that was done, Donald cleaned up their mugs and set them out to dry. Once that was settled, Louie took Donald’s hand and the two of them went to cuddle the rest of the night away.

#ducktales #dt17 #ducktales 2017 #louie duck #donald duck #della duck #my fics #i can't believe I actually wrote this #it's been eighty thousand years #wild #if any of you remember me from my ducktales days no you don't #i was 13 why did people listen to me #(because I had correct opinions on Louie) #fjdkslfjdsa; #anyways #uh #enjoy #<3

[naughtybg3confessions]

not a confession but regarding kinks scenarios etc implying poor hygiene and such concerning gortash: there's a huge issue i've seen brought up multiple times by turkish and middle eastern bg3 fans asking for people to be more sensitive and considerate about the racist stereotype of brown men looking and/or being dirty or smelly that's ignored over and over by the fandom. this isn't shaming anyone for kinks but it's something that needs awareness cuz it means something very different applied to other characters than it does with gortash. sometimes it's a genuine mistake of ignorance on their part but a lot of people are knowingly using it as an excuse for colourism and exoticism and it's important to listen when poc fans are literally pleading for people to stop calling the turkish man a dirty greasy rat. i mean no rudeness by sending this i just think it should be known and to help avoid future issues that might be encountered with running a blog like this

Let me start by saying I'm only part Turkish, so I'm coming from the place of someone who hasn't experienced discrimination in the same way. I honestly had no idea Gortash was intended to be Turkish, as Turkish names and words are used commonly throughout the game. But I can see the connection here, and it's awful that there are people out there saying such things with those intentions, and ignoring the people who are most affected by them.

I want to believe the average Gortash fan sees him as 'dirty' because of the yellow teeth, bloodshot eyes, bedhead, sloppily laced robe, and general evilness- though I guess it's also unfortunate that people associate poor character with bad hygiene. But I think he tends to attract fans who already have a particular set of kinks, and like me are probably wholly unaware of the implications. So, thank you for making us more aware. I'm not saying your experience isn't real, just agreeing with you that in some cases I don't think it's coming from a place of intentional racism. As I said, I was even clueless that Gortash was intended to be Turkish at all. I'm just not in the Gortash side of the fandom enough, I guess.

Exoticizing and bigotry are mentioned as explicitly against the rules here- I do my best to enforce this, but there are nuances to that I'm likely ignorant of. If anyone is talking about any character from that place- especially when POC are saying it's damaging- we as a fandom need to reflect on that, and not tolerate it. To anyone objectifying Gortash or any person with those intentions, you are not welcome here.

As for how I'm going to enforce this, I'm honestly not sure. I'm hesitant to blanket ban all stinky Gortash anons, since I allow those confessions for all the characters and banning them just for POC characters also has unfortunate implications, I feel. Anon or any POC followers, you are invited to weigh in on what you think I should do?

#in any case i will be keeping this in mind when i read how confessions are phrased and do my best for now #and im sorry if the confessions here have made you feel unwelcome. you are more than welcome to express your feelings here #answering asks #i hope im being respectful here. im autistic and tend to phrase things poorly without realizing :S #enver gortash

[bloodymiso]

★ pancake sunday 

george karim x gn!reader

reader was pretty much a “normal” person, having quit the academy. ever since then, life turned..boring in a way. that was until they moved into 34 portland row.

note: i had baking thoughts. tw like two swear words and uh..pancakes ig idk if pancakephobia exists(let the pancakes get married ugh

fun, something which ever since you quit the academy, became an unexplored region, a mysterious place you have yet to venture—or well, a mysterious place that..life had stopped you from exploring. 

that was until you moved in next to lockwood and co. well—you were right beside it. your kitchens were connected, and eventually you found yourself knocking on their door for stupid stuff you forgot to buy. flour, sugar, milk, all that jazz. 

george, ugh that stupid george—you hated it but he caught your eye. his sassy antics intrigued you, urged you to knock on their door despite not needing anything. soon your “quick glances” at him turned into quick stares. you loved the way his ears perked up whenever he got excited, the way he was always so stupidly blunt.

you and lockwood, your self-proclaimed “good ‘ol mate” from the group were up surprisingly early. today was pancake sunday, he chatted about the latest “news” from his gossip magazines, which you found hilarious. 

“wait—whos this gina person again?” you asked, your right elbow rested on the table as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“i already told you who gina was! do you not listen to my wisdom?” lockwood gasped dramatically, a hand to his heart as he looked away, betrayal written on his face. 

you sighed, your lips curling into a smile “i still don’t get how you weren’t a theatre kid and instead, a child prodigy in fencing..” you chuckled. 

“hes jus’ unique like that.” george suddenly popped into the conversation, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. 

“hey george, look mx.sunshine here made pancakes.” lockwood pointed to the stack of pancakes on the table. “they ate the bur—ow!” you hit him in the shoulder before he could finish his sentence. george stared at the stack, looking at the pancakes then at you, then at the pancakes, then at you—okay, ill stop. “you made pancakes?” 

“uh yeah.” you smiled cheekily, placing down your mug of scrumptious(yum yum) coffee before rubbing the back of your neck. “lockwood told me that you were up all night working on a case so..” 

george’s lips couldnt help but curve up at your statement, you made the pancakes instead of him because you knew he was tired? thats crazy man!! no “thanks” left his mouth but that simply gesture was enough. you smiled at your mug, lockwood sending you a smirk. 

eventually lucy came down and you had your average pancake sunday, your smile slightly wider due to the smile george had sent you, almost as if his energy had passed on. you hoped maybe, in the future, those smiles would be more frequent. 

now, you and george found yourselves in a similar situation. you had been up all night, helping george clean up a small...problem he had with an “experiment” of his with the skulls. you woke up early, despite having like, 4 hours of sleep to make pancakes— but apparently, george had done the same.

“can you pass me the eggs?” you asked, mixing up the wet ingredients as george mixed the dry. “oh? yeah, sure.” he nodded, passing you 3 eggs.

“oh shit its supposed to be 3?” you deadpanned, and he deadpanned back. “fuck, i put 2 last time. no wonder they were so..dry.” you sighed as george chuckled, a small smile on his lips. george would usually respond with a “thats stupid” or an “okay”, it was..rare to get a reaction like that out of him.

you couldnt help but let your lips curl up, your smile much wider than his. you cracked the eggs into the bowl, giving them a quick whisk before turning your eyes to george. “you ready?” he nodded, sliding his bowl closer to yours as your poured in the egg mixture. slowly, he folded it in, his eyes glued to the batter, as if he was scared he would get lost in yours. you blinked, your eyes threatening to close as you yawned, placing down the bowl in your hand as you stretched.

“sleepy?” george cracked another small smile, flicking you on the forehead(tiptoeing, if he has to)

“ow!” you laughed, flicking him back. “come on, back to work.” you said, the smile still clear on your face as you grabbed a pan from the cupboard, placing it on the stove and turning it on. you had this habit of putting a bit of water on the pan and waiting for it to evaporate before putting anything else. george, aware of this waited, sliding the butter over to you once the water dissipated. you cut a small slice, placing it on the pan as george poured a cup of batter in.

you started taking shifts, one flipping the pancakes, the other pouring in the batter. it was the last batch, and you found yourself “resting” your eyes every few seconds. george took a quick glance at you before returning to the very precious pancakes. “you good?” he asked, flipping one of the pancakes. “just sleepy.” you said with a small but reassuring smile, rubbing your eyes.

it took a few moments of silence before you spoke up. “can i rest my head on your shoulder?” you asked, as plainly and casually as possible. eventually, a cheeky smile found its way to your lips. “mmh, sure.” he shrugged, his attention still on the pancakes, but his minds raced with thoughts. george was good at keeping his cool, but his body wasnt, his cheeks flushed a soft red as you rested your head on his shoulder(or head if youre taller:3) , stomach fluttering at the touch. you closed your eyes, enjoying the soft silence. the only sound throughout the room being your heartbeat, george’s heartbeat, synchronized in—oh yeah and the poppity pop pop of the butter yum.

just like the last pancake sunday, you had another thing to hope for. that one day, all mornings could be like this. you and george—your close friends, just enjoying some good ol’ pancakes.

hopefully, everyday could be a nice pancake sunday.

extra:

“lucy, pass me the salt.” you say, pointing to the salt grinder at the edge of the table. “luv, i cant throw george across the table.” she says with a smirk(though she tried to hide it.), knowing damn well what she just did. “ohh i gotta add that to the thinking cloth.” lockwood snickered, grabbing a pen from his pocket. 

(><) wanna support? reblog w tags pookies<3

#( ˘▽˘)っaki writes #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood & co x reader #george x reader #george karim x reader #george karim x gn!reader #george karim x gn reader #george karim x you #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood & co netflix

[anglerflsh]

I like talking to my parents it's a fun game of "which one of us is gaslighting the other This Time?"

#[.art] #self #i don't even think this is gaslighting i think she genuinely thinks it never happened #extremely ironic considering you were there ma'am. And I know this because she grounded me for crying. lol #but also I was more dramatic than average about failing at things I was told to do so idk how she forgot about that genuinely #of course I'd hide it until I did something good to balance it out and only told her then so I would get the less harsh punishment but #'less harsh punishment' it's good old social isolation with no internet access and being screamed at so. 'punishment' in air quotes #coming from a family of ''i'll get the wicker staff'' being a regular-ish threat that was very light

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Observing peoples reactions to morally gray or black actions committed by different characters is so funny. Throughout all of G. War the character tags were chock-full of people unironically enraged claiming “Bruce isn’t even capable of doing something bad like that.” about an action that is pretty well in line with his character journey thus far, meanwhile there are still new posts that gain traction that open with lines like “I know Jason has committed his fair share of sins/crimes but” like bro when. In 2010?

Also. The whole premise of the b*tfamily™ that you so love is built on the load bearing wall being that they are a crime family. Hell, do people just collectively forget the part where Bruce manufactures and freely uses weapons with his own furry brand logo plastered all over them, causing all sorts of 'explosions and more!' property damage all over the streets of Gotham? Pretty sure that makes him a terrorist but you people don't feel the need to go around reminding fandom of that every five minutes.

#as someone who loves post crisis Jason more than the average person who considers themselves a Jason fan: #how much longer are we going to pretend that’s still where we are today #to all the people who get so fucking worked up anytime Jason does something other than sit there and look pretty #what exactly do you want to see him do in comics anyway? vacuum his apartment? #like please let him fuck shit up for people whose plans were messed up anyway please let him have opinions and act on them #kelseethe #these people assume fans like Jason *despite* all his ‘wrongdoings' #when we repeatedly post about why Jason fucking with people was epic and cool and justified #while they sit there being upset that their traumatized problematic fav with a god complex #acts like a traumatized problematic bitch with a god complex lol #‘do Jason fans even know why they like his character’ seems like someone is in need of some introspection #disclaimer: l'm not a bruce anti. you know that liking a problematic character doesn't mean wanting to erase #every atrocity he committed and putting him through a redemption arc #I just have low tolerance for the utter ignorance of some of his fans lol #and that of his writers who market him as the agreeable voice of reason #while simultaneously portraying him as an abusive father + war criminal lol #the way I used the terms ‘morally gray/black’ here is subjective. #personally I don’t consider killing drug dealers/kingpins in a fictional universe morally gray because I’m not a fucking narc lol #but abusing your son for over a decade then literally breaking his brain is undeniably morally black in & out of universe

[snekdood]

if ppl telling you "jewish ppl in israel were already kicked out of other countries and have no where else to go" makes you feel compelled to call whoever said that a "zionist", I really just dont think you give af about jewish ppl's lives quite frankly.

if your "free palestine" means "getting rid" of all jewish civilians in israel I think you're probably just a heartless asshole.

#two state solution ftw #or at least something along those lines #yelling at average jewish ppl who ARENT in israel is antisemitic #anti semitism- no matter how 'big of a deal' you think it is naturally makes jewish ppl feel unsafe by default #where do they go when theres nowhere else thats safe? you guessed it- probably to israel. #which is WHAT netanyahu wants. he wants scared controllable civilians to think hes the only one who can protect them #so you being anti semitic and not checking yourself on it or being 'whatever its nbd' about it is making everything so much worse #STOP BEING SO FUCKING APATHETIC FUCK ILL BEAT YOU UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL SOMETHING IF I HAVE TO #i dont feel like i can in good conscious reblog your 'free palestine' posts bc idk wtf the op thinks about jewish ppl being in #israel. and at this point i dont have faith in leftists to not notice the antisemitism in some of these ppl and call it out #its not something we can 'push aside and deal with and apologize for later' its ACTIVELY MAKING THE SITUATION WORSE AND NEEDS #TO BE ADDRESSED RIGHT THE FUCK NOW #maybe jewish ppl wouldnt be calling it 'self defense' if yall didnt keep being antisemitic and making them feel like they have to cling #to israel to stay tf alive. fuck. #OBVIOUSLY the response to what hamas did is disproportionate and affecting more people than israel says it intends to target #but thats the govt. and actual regular people are worried about their families. its disproportionate and probably being used as an excuse #to genocide palestinians but this wouldnt be happening if hamas didnt basically GIVE the israeli govt the excuse to do it. #free palestine. from hamas and from the israeli govt. and dont have genocidal intent toward jewish ppl. #thats all i want. #hamas' escalation did nothing but hurt everyone and make things worse especially for palestinians.