jason todd who's insecure about his "dad bod" because he's not dainty and lean like the other bats even tho he's built like a fucking BRICKHOUSE and he's continuously looking at himself in the mirror to figure out how to be less- less big- more dainty- like dick or tim- or just wanting to be like the other bats-
but then you stand behind him, make him look at himself in the mirror as you touch him, make him cum, make a mess of him, praising how pretty is to you and how good he feels in your hands while not even being able to SEE anything because he's so huge you end up just behind him, your hands around his hips to piston him until his hips buck and he starts incoherently agree that he IS pretty and he IS good enough-
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Pairing: Poly Team 141 (Simon x Reader) / (Maybe slight hint of) Oksana Ivanova x Female Reader
Content Warning: Mental Health issues covered in a vague manner. It could trigger someone. So here is the warning guys.
Words: 541
Masterlist - Dividers
Summary: At the same time. Sheâs right. Telling someone how to feel wasnât going to fix anything.
âI would prefer it if you didnât do that,â Oksana frowned as you peaked through the gaps of the curtains. âWhen people call themselves monsters. They donât do it because they want you to say âNo. Donât say that about yourself. Youâre not a monster.' Sometimes. Sometimes they want to vent out how they feel without the fear of the person possibly judging their mental state. It doesnât give you a free pass to make condescending remarks because you believe you should tell them they not something they feel. Sit on it. Think about it. Come back to me when you reached a conclusion that doesnât automatically align with the preconceived notion that youâre right and the soldiers are wrong for feeling that way.â
You didnât know what to say to what she said. On one hand, you didnât like the fact that you were told off. In your mind, you felt like you were helping them by telling Simon that he wasnât a monster. That he had no reason to feel that way. At the same time. Sheâs right. Telling someone how to feel wasnât going to fix anything.
Telling them how to be is a sure-fire way to push them further away from you. âHell is paved with good intentions.â
âHe needs to come to terms with it on his own. You can guide. You can assist. But you can not do the hard parts for him. Just as no one can do the hard parts for you either. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. We want to help in whichever way we can and sometimes, it just makes matters worse.â Oksana continued, it felt like a lecture, but at the same time, she had seen enough to know what you were trying to do.
âYou wear a similar mask.â You commented. Noting the similarity between the two of them.
âI suppose.â
âI donât like the way they look at you.â
âThey being who exactly?â She raised an eyebrow at the comment. âThey being the shadow company.â
âOddly specific-â
You cut her off with, âYou could have died, you know.â
âI believe you.â She paused as Simon walked into the hallway towards his office. âAt the same time. You should be looking over your shoulder a bit more than you have been already. I wouldnât be surprised if they tried something to get to them.â
âI don't always need you to fix everything. Sometimes I just want you to listen.â Simon told you a month ago.
The act of hubris in pretending to know the right words to send the demons inside the minds of men packing.
When the reality means there is no right way to help someone. Just as there is no right answer in philosophy.
To demand an answer, you consider right, would be several acts of self-indulgent hubris. Reeking of pride from the intention itself.
Let alone assuming the fact that everyone wants to be fixed. In hushed tones, you might even think you are curing them of a disease inside their mind.
âJust give him a little space for a while before you attempt at an apology, Pup.â Oksana stated. Leaving before you protest at her use of the nickname âPupâ.
(A/N): This is based on a dream I had! I realized while writing this that it isnât inclusive to plus sized persons, so I wanted to apologize! I will be sure to write something more plus size friendly in the future.
Warnings: Jaha is a jerk?
Word Count: 718
Pairing: John Murphy x Reader
Summary: On the path to the City of Light, the sun becomes unbearable.
                                           (Gif/Pic isnât mine!!)
Youâd been walking for days. Hours? Time in the desert didn't make sense. It was too hot and too bright -- there was nothing in every direction but sand. Sand sucked. A lot.Â
Following Murphy was a no brainer. As crazy as he was, you knew youâd follow him anywhere. Even if he was determined to follow Jaha out to the middle of this godforsaken desert, youâd follow him.
Oh, but it was so hot. The water ran out yesterday, and your tongue was heavy as stones. John walked ahead of you, eyes on Jaha. He needed something to believe in, and right now it was the man with the stick.
Your vision swam, drenched in sweat, and all at once you were going down. Your knees hit the sand -- there was so much sand -- and for a moment you were at rest. Maybe you could just rest here for a bit. You could catch up, right? Or maybe you could just wait here, they would come back for you.
Of course they wouldnât leave you. No sooner had you fallen to your knees, your pack falling from your shoulder, and Murphy was at your side.
â(Y/n)? Love, can you hear me?â And you could, but he sounded so far away. Still, he needed to know you heard him. Nodding, your body slumped against his. He caught you, and he was firm against your side. John held you, and that security roused you from the pool of unconsciousness you were drowning in.
ââs too hotâ You insisted, a dry and heavy tongue causing your words to slur and twist.Â
âI know,â He barks out a laugh, though there wasnât much humor there. âIt's a desert.â
ââr we almosâ there yet?â
âI donât know (Y/n)... Jaha,â Now he was speaking to your fearless leader.
Cracking your eyes open was difficult enough, in the minute or so they were closed theyâd been glued shut by sand. One day, Murphy and you were going to live in a place where there's no sand. At all, itâll be illegal.
The sun was intense and abrasive, but you made out that your remaining companions were huddled around you. Jaha, the man best imitating the biblical figure Moses, was already on the next dune, looking at the group expectantly.
âWe need a break.â It wasnât a question or request. All of you had been walking for hours, youâd just been the unlucky one to fall first.Â
âNonsense, it isnât dark yetâ As if you werenât curled into your boyfriend's side, miserable and useless. You knew that once you were hydrated and of your right mind, heâd tease you for this. His damsel in distress.
âDumbass, we canât get to your City of Light if weâre all dead!â You werenât surprised with how pragmatic he was being. You really did feel like death, though he didnât need to know that.
Mustering what little strength you had, you sat up. âI-Iâm fine. I can make itâ You were trying to sound convincing... Maybe if you pretend you werent slurring your words or seeing double, everyone else would believe you were fine.
Jaha took this as fact and nodded. âSee, theyâre fine. Come, we have more ground to cover.â With that, he disappeared over the dune.
Murphy spat curses as the others walked past him and towards the dune. He might also be determined to press on, but you were clearly in no position. And your well being trumped his desires.
âGo, you needa go with Jahaâ You pressed, attempting to push him away.Â
âShut upâ He mumbled, before scooping you up. He held you bridal style, taking a moment to adjust and shift you in his arms, before pressing on.Â
âThereâs no way Iâd ever even think of leaving you, donât fucking forget that.â His words are steel, his intent ironclad. His eyes are on the horizon, and all you can do is stare at him. After a moment, he kisses your forehead.
Safe and secure in your lovers arms, you knew you would be okay. Murphy would always be there, and so would you. Even after all this time, you still werenât used to having a partner you could rely on like this. It was nice, and you let yourself drift off into unconsciousness.
(NOT ACCEPTING) Send me an ask with the first sentence of a fanfic and Iâll write the next five...
(you will see that I am handling the "next five" part very loosely lol)
"You better run."
When Bucky got that look in his eyes... yeah, you needed out of there ASAP.
And you didn't get far, big surprise. But your whole body lit up with electricity from ears to toes when Bucky's metal arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you back to him. His chin swooped down, gliding along your cheek and neck and then he buried his face into your neck and... oh god.
Beard nuzzles combined with a well-placed raspberry had you sinking to the floor out of full-body ticklish weakness, but Bucky held you up. He was always there to support you... Asshole.
Š raribella 2022, do not repost, modify or translate!
THEO ENGLER (YOU)
Enchanted. | 1,9k | angst, fluff
reader thinks her college friend Theo is in love with someone else in his hometown, Madre Linda, after his unexpected reaction to Natalie's death, but ends up finding out otherwise.
NETEYAM SULLY (AVATAR: WAY OF WATER)
The Five Times You Said Neteyamâs Name and The One You Couldnât | 1,3k | angst
my take on the trope. self explanatory.
Braid Beads | 1,2k | fluff
Neteyam helps you undo your braids.
ASTARION ANCUNIN (BALDURS GATE 3)
Two Of a Kind | 500 | comfort, fluff
ACT 3 SPOILERS | you had heard you guardian throughout your adventure as they had told you to explore your parasiteâs power. now you know who they are, and canât turn back from becoming half illithid as a consequence. your lover Astarion wasnât with you, so how will he react?
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A/n: I have never written Constantine before. This is an anonymous request. To the reader who requested this. I hope that you enjoy. I wrote Gabriel as non-binary as requested. If I didnât do that well, please forgive me.Â
Summary: Its time to let Gabriel go.Â
Pairings: Gabriel x ReaderÂ
___________Â
âDonât leave me like this!âÂ
Gabriel shouted. You stopped walking for a moment. Could you really be strong enough to walk away? This time would it be different?Â
âY/n?â
Your eyes rolled up to meet Constantineâs. He looked as concerned as he did from the day that he found out that you were Gabrielâs lover.Â
âThey donât deserve you.âÂ
Constantineâs voice was calm and even. The events of the day didnât seem to matter. He was as calm as he ever was when speaking to you. Your eyes didnât leave his for a moment.Â
Was he right? Of course, he was. John Constantine had never given you a reason to doubt him. Gabriel had...on too many occasions. Their cold disdain for humanity was becoming too much to deal with.Â
Why they even became entranced by you was still a mystery. Now it was over. It didnât matter that the innocent looking former half breed angel was begging for you to come back. Their innocence wouldnât get them far today.Â
âYouâre right. No more.â
You replied before turning to face Gabriel. What a poor pathetic creature they had become!Â
Oh how the mighty have fallenâŚ
Gabriel still stood by the pool looking at you with pleading eyes. Their blond curls were everywhere framing that childlike face. They looked at you with a trembling bloody and swollen bottom lip. Gabriel had experienced their first taste of pain. When Constantine punched him in the face you werenât as bothered as you would have been before. Normally, you would have gone to him but not anymore.Â
âGood bye, Gabriel.âÂ
âY/n! Donât you leave me!â
Gabriel was genuinely surprised.Â
âI saved you! More times than you can count! You would be dead if it wasnât for me! You are really choosing John Constantine over me?! Youâll go to hell!âÂ
You gave Constantine a small smile before approaching Gabriel. They looked at you with a pout of a five-year-old child. You reached up and pushed a stray curl away from the fallen angelâs face.Â
âIâll see you there. By the way, youâre fucked.â
When you stole away from everything you knew in the Shire to follow a band of dwarves to goodness knows where, youâd been imagining the far off lands that you would be visiting. Mountains tall as the sky, still lakes wide enough to encompass all of the valley, forests so tall and so thick that the sun never reach the ground. What you hadnât imagined visiting was a goblin pen, miles underground, filled with grumpy, smelly dwarves.Â
âKeep still Ori,â you intoned. The cage was in almost complete darkness, but there was a little bit of light from a nearby torch by which you were patching up a huge gash that had been opened on the youngest dwarfâs head. The poor lad was staring ahead, trembling as you did your best to minimize the damage. You had barely finished dressing the wound, when suddenly you thought you heard your name being spoken amid the buzz of dwarvish grumbling. Despite yourself, and your intentions of discretion, you pricked up your hobbit ears.Â
Thorin, Balin, and Bofur were speaking in low voices. You could not make out the expressions of their faces. Patting Ori gently on the shoulder, you crept closer to the trio of whisperers. The pen was so steeped in shadow, that you were able to stay out of sight with ease.Â
âThis was all a grave mistake,â Balin was saying. âWe should never have left Rivendell without Gandalf."Â
"You think he would have fought off those trap doors?â Thorin growled.Â
âHe probably would have led us past the trap doors altogether."Â
Thorin likely had a retort for that, but Balin wouldnât let him say it.Â
"Anyhow, enough of what might have been. We must look to what will be."Â
"We must escape this place!â Bofurâs voice cut in.Â
âAye, and sooner rather than later.â Balin agreed.Â
âFor us I do not worry, we are dwarves after all. The goblins will likely put us to work in their black mines and their wicked forges. But for (Y/N), I fear it may be a different story.â
At these words you felt your blood run cold as you recalled that grey goblin who had sniffed at you earlier with such interest.Â
âIf we donât act soon, those black savages willâŚ..theyâllâŚâ Bofurâs voice broke, unable to finish.Â
âTheyâll eat her alive.â Thorin said gravely.Â
âWeâve got to do somethingâŚ..but what?â Bofur sounded so lost.
âIf we were to fool the goblins into believing sheâs one of usâŚ.â Balin said slowly. âAt least for a little while, it might buy us enough time to figure a way out of here."Â
"How do you suggest we do that?â Thorin broke in. âA blind orc wouldnât mistake her for a dwarf. She sticks out like a sore thumb. Even more than the burglar. Wherever he may be."Â
"Itâs not her appearance thatâs giving her away.â Balin replied. âItâs her smell.â âGoblins donât see very well, they rely primarily on their noses. If we covered her scent, made her smell likeâŚ.well like usâŚit would probably give her a fighting chance."Â
"Iâll do it.â Bofur sounded eager, a little TOO eager. You couldnât take it anymore.Â
âYouâll do what?â you stepped into the torchlight. The three dwarves jumped and scowled in surprise.Â
âLassâŚ.â Balin began. âHow much did you hear?"Â
"Enough to know that I apparently have body odor.â You said wryly. Nobody laughed.Â
âItâs not that you smell badâŚâ Bofur said reassuringly. âYou smell very nice!â He blushed, realizing what he had just said.Â
âToo nice.â Thorin murmured.  "They could smell you before we even reached the cave.âÂ
"Mind you, they smelled us first.â Balin added.Â
âWhat must I do?â You were almost afraid to hear the answer.Â
âJustâŚ.hold still. Donât move.â Bofurâs voice came close to your ear. Large square hands closed around your shoulders, so large that they covered them completely. Hot breath on your face, something soft tickled your cheek. A pungent, musky scent filled your nose. It was like you were drowning in sweaty fur and tobacco. And then, you felt something warm and soft brush against your face, just below your left eye. Out of instinct, you jerked your head backwards.Â
âBofur? Did you just-MMF!â As if to answer, the moist something fastened itself over your moth. IT was now that you realized what was happening. You could only stand there in a daze as Bofur kissed you. Those soft lips seemed to be everywhere, on your face, your neck, your shoulder. Not an inch of exposed skin was left untouched. Not that you were a immodest lady. Inside, you were on fire. A squall of different emotions raged within  your head. Fear, panic, confusion, and a strange fuzzy tickly feeling that you could not identify. You tried to stay quiet and still, but sometimes little sounds escaped from you. A squeak, a gasp, a fidget. But whenever you squirmed, those big soft arms would be there to pull you back to the rain of nuzzling and kissing. You felt guilty for not obeying Bofurâs words, but you couldnât help it. The bizarre combination of his soft, moist lips and the scratchy feeling of his whiskers tickling your skin made you warm and tingly all over. His kisses were gentle, mere caresses at first, but little by little they became fiercer and fiercer. After a while you began to worry that he might leave a few marks behind.Â
âSteady on there, Bofur.â You heard Balin speak out from the shadows.Â
âYouâre disguising her scent, not taking her to bed.â You were glad of the darkness, because it hid the fact that you had turned redder in the face than Bombur after one pint too many.Â
âSorry Lass, guess I got carried away.â Bofurâs voice thrummed in your ear, a tad sheepishly.Â
âN-no no, itâs f-fine.â You stammered, still a bit flummoxed by the omnipotent awareness of the warm, hairy presence that was still mere inches away, permeating that smell.âÂ
"Enough chatter,â Thorinâs voice growled.Â
âMahal knows when those goblins will be back. No time for niceties, just get it over and done with!â
âRight,â Bofurâs hands returned to your shoulders.Â
âRight,â You echoes, mentally steeling yourself into a puddle of nerves. This time, Bofurâs thick arms pulled you forward to meet what seemed in the dark to be a wall of pelts. Your face was buried in woolen fabric and fur trim. you felt the cold shock of metal fastenings and bone hooks creating indentations in your cheek. You closed your eyes, enveloped by warmth and the smell of dwarf. Bofurâs arms squeezed you tight, so tight that you barely had room to breathe. His cheek rested on the top of your head, the end of his mustache lightly tapping against your eye lid. You were surprised to experience and unexpected surge of emptiness when at last Bofur released you from his iron embrace.Â
âBetter make her look the part.â Balin said.Â
âIf they spot those ears, sheâs done for."Â
"Aye.â You heard Bofur mutter. Then something soft and heavy was covering your head. The flickering light of the outside torches disappeared behind a fuzzy cowl that fell past your eyes and nose. You reached up, hands searching. Your fingers came into contact with a shape that felt very familiar. Big leather straps, rustic stitches.Â
âHowâs that?â You could barely hear Bofurâs voice through the layers of wool and leather A hand nudged you into what you could only assume was the light.Â
âThatâs perfect.â Balinâs voice seemed even further away.Â
âCanât see a thing, problem is, neither can she.â That sounded like Thorin. Abruptly the yawning brim of the hat was pulled back to rest on your forehead. You blinked at the sudden ray of light as it hit you in the face.Â
âWhat about the rest of her? Dwarves donât wear dresses. Even goblins know that."Â
"Thatâs right. Here lass.â Bofurâs hands took hold of you one more time.Â
âHow do you feel lass?â Balin asked when the flurry of hasty fumblings had ended.Â
âHow do I feel? Like a coat rack!â You felt rather weighed down. Bofurâs overcoat hung well past your knees, with your tiny hands utterly lost in the sleeves. The woolen scarf wrapped thrice around your neck, leaving only your eyes peering out between them and the hat. Your remark was met with genuine laughter this time. It seemed that the transformation had concluded, until Thorinâs voice broke through the quiet affirmative din.Â
âWait! What about her feet?â All eyes, including yours moved downwards to your feet, which were peeking out from below the hem of the coat. Your feet were considered tiny and quite dainty according to Hobbit standards, but were still woolly enough to make all but the most in-observant of Goblins suspicious. Bofur had already got down on one knee, tugging at his enormous fur-lined boots.Â
âBofur no!â You grabbed at his arm. You argued with him briefly but a tiny voice cut through, interrupting you both.Â
âItâs alright Bofur, she can take mine.â You turned to find Ori standing there, his little boots already tucked under his arm.Â
âOriâŚ.â words failed you. He said nothing, but simply fixed you with his dark eyes, pressing the boots into your hands.Â
The silence that followed as you clumsily tried them on was unbearable, but it was soon broken by something worse; the sound of footsteps.Â
The cage door swung open and you were blinded by the cruel light of goblin torches. Dazed and blinking, you and the company were pulled one by one out of the pen.Â
You were forced to run along in clothes that were too big and boots that were a little too small. Bofurâs hat kept slipping over your eyes and you were constantly tripping over the coat. All at once you were suddenly scooped off your feet and found yourself on Bofurâs back. Squeezing your arms around his neck, you whispered in his ear.Â
âThank you Bofur, for everything.â
If he heard you, he didnât have time to reply. Just when you were starting to get used to the jostling, the company was suddenly halted. Plucking at your fingers, Bofur slipped you off his back and put his arms out behind him in one last ditch effort to hide you from the biggest, and the ugliest Goblin you had ever seen in your brief Hobbit life.Â
The villain of the week was really pissing you off. Like royally so. All youâd wanted was a nice night in with Bucky and a movie. Itâs not like you were asking for the moon. Unlike the man whoâs face you were currently caving in. You were a simple person who wanted simple things; and this asswipe was the only thing standing in your way.Â
After finally rendering him unconscious, you stood there for a moment, panting in exhaustion. There were two hours you wouldnât get back. You turned to see Bucky standing there, a mysterious look on his face. You werenât sure what it was exactly, but it looked strange- almost stupid on him. âWhat?â you finally asked him.
âI love you,â he blurted in response.
You furrowed your brows, a small, confused laugh escaping your lips. âWhat?â Had he really just chosen now to say that to you for the first time?
Bucky rolled his eyes. âI said I love you.â Bucky, much like you, was also a simple person who wanted simple things: he wanted you.
You gave him a smile in response. âI love you too, you dork.âÂ
They were pulled from their arguably tender, touching moment by a voice screeching through the comms. âAre you two lovebirds done? Because we have more incoming,â Tony stated.
You both shared a look, rolling your eyes at his comment before getting back to the task at hand. After all, you wanted to get home to eat your dinner before it got totally inedible.