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#but i NEVER fucking get the mood benefit its usually a neutral thing and then sometimes its like this what the FUCK is wrong w me
toastsnaffler · 7 months
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when the post workout worldcrushing depression hits 🤪
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strivingscribe · 4 years
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ILIC ~ CH 30
It’s Lost Its Charm by  MsMoon
Chapter 30 ~ Whiling and Styling
Chapters: 30/?
Chapter Navigation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,16, 17, 18,19,20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 
Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age,
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Violence,
Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…
Summary: Siheta and the Iron Bull have a very candid discussion.
Notes: Don't get excited. I'm not...I mean, I've been sitting on this for a while and thinking it wasn't any good. I figured, it wouldn't hurt to post it.
“The Iron Bull.”
The mercenary captain in question was almost startled to have Siheta approach him, let alone speak to him. 
“That’s my name.” he grumbled, eyeing her with unmasked suspicion. 
She lifted a single eyebrow, almost as if she didn’t believe his statement ….then again, she was always looking at him like she didn’t trust him. He didn’t really blame her. In fact, it was nice of her to do him the courtesy of conveying genuine emotion. Sure, it was doubt, but at least he was confident it was authentic.
“A word in private, if you please?” It wasn’t a request. That much was obvious as she turned and sauntered away.
Bull sighed, rolling his eye expressively in Krem’s general direction before hefting himself up and following. She walked into the tavern, which felt odd. He supposed he could understand the logic. There are two entrances/exits and both were easy to monitor. Still, it didn’t fit with...well, with them. The tavern was a place of revelry, and the mood between them was tense at best.
“You know, if we keep this up, people are gonna think we’re fucking.” He drawled. 
She did not dignify that with a response, and he was a little perturbed that even the notion of it didn't so much as make her blink. Did anything get a rise out of this woman? Or was she just a cold fish through and through?
“I don’t really know you, the Iron Bull.” she began. “However, if I did, I think I would like you very much.” Now it’s his turn to look unconvinced. “You tend to make everyone around you very happy, and in spite of how intimidating you appear… you make them feel safer if you can.” she explained. Her eyes drifted, as though she were inspecting those words them seconds after she’d spoken them. She evidently approved of them, sealing them with a nod. “Yes. I would probably like you very much, were it not for the Qun.”
He gave a single big nod at that, snickering as he sat down in his usual spot. It felt a little weird to be in here with no one else.
“All that isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate you as you are, but...well.” she turned and walked around the table, sitting down once the length of the entire table was between them. “The Qun makes me nervous for many reasons, most of which I’m sure you can understand without my naming them.”
He had the good sense to look squeamish. “Is that what you asked me here for…? To talk about the Qun?”
“No.” she soothed, settling forward onto her elbows. “I’m prefacing our conversation with this because there’s something else that I want to tell you. And I want you to understand, I’m not telling you this because I have any desire to see your reaction to it. I’m telling you this because you’re the only Qunari I know here; and, more to a point, you’re the only Qunari Amy knows.”
Bull’s face froze as he considered this. Slowly, very slowly, he nodded for her to continue. “Alright.”
“Last night, Amy said two words in perfect Qunlat while she slept. She said these two words twice in succession. Then she settled again.”
“You know Qunlat?”
“Why wouldn’t I? It was my parents’ first language.” she said with an almost doting smile. It was strangely reminiscent of the Tamasaren he had been so familiar with… His only response to her statement was to shrug. 
“Well, don’t keep me on the edge of my seat, woman. What’d she say?”
“Katoh, Hissrad.” 
At that, everything in the Iron Bull went still. As if the words were a trigger that literally made him stop. 
His brain was trying to process what she was telling him, but it didn’t make any sense no matter what angle he tried to approach it in. 
Amy shouldn’t know about ‘Hissrad’. No one should...Not that she hadn’t gained a reputation for knowing what she shouldn’t. And he’d never given her the ‘just say ‘Katoh’’ speech (though if he’d had the occasion to do so, he’d be one lucky son of a bitch as it’s usually a prelude to more enjoyable things). 
When he finally remembered where he was and came back to himself enough to cover his tells, he was more than a little irritated to note that Siheta looked strangely satisfied. Dammit, he gave her that one. She just dropped two words, two repeated words that Amy had said, and he forgot to hold his reaction. Vashedan!
“To be clear… you’re just.. telling me this. Like..” he leaned back, throwing his right arm over the chair back while making a vague encompassing motion with his left arm. “...like just for the sake of letting me know it happened?”
“Well…” she began before letting out a heavy sigh, that damn-near indulgent smirk on her face still. “I don’t know anyone named Hissrad, but I reason that you may.”
“You know that the Qun is big, right?” Bull grumbled. “And besides, it’s less of a name and more of a title. There could be a bunch of guys walking around as Hissrad.”
Both of her eyebrows rose so loftily as she nodded with an almost amused hum. “Would we call this collective of Hissrads a Qun or a Ben hassrath?”
He half growled, but it only earned him a soft chuckle. At least someone was enjoying this brouhaha. Still...the fact that she was being so congenial was...it felt more like light-hearted teasing than barbed discourse. 
“I am only telling you for your benefit.” Siheta soothed, and yet he wasn’t the least bit soothed. “Take it as you will. After all…” she shrugged. “It could’ve just been a random dream.”
He huffed out an exasperated breath, full of his disbelief and bitterness. No matter how it may seem, things were seldom ‘just random nonsense’ when it came to Amy. 
He snapped back into himself, into his persona when she shifted to stand up. She rifled through the sling pouch on at her waist. His brow lifted when she sets a canister of horn balm on the table.
“Amy got some for you too, huh?” he asked.
“She did.” 
He squinted at her as she pulled out the buffing cloth and brushes.
“...uh… You know, I got the same care package.” he figured his ‘you too’ question was enough to enforce that he also has all of this at his disposal.
“Maybe. But you’re doing it wrong.” she replied, brandishing the file. He huffed an indignant response. “You just smacked the balm on without doing any of the filing or buffing repair first.” 
She slid up behind him, and he had to work real hard not to tense up when she began filing at the base of his horn. Even as it burned, there was a satisfying element that crept into his ear bones and down his neck. It’d been ages since anyone tended his horns for him.
“Can I assume you'll want similar treatment?” he finally managed to grind out.
He didn’t see her smile, but her words didn’t feel cheeky or cruel. “I wouldn’t be against it.” So ridiculously, ludicrously sincere, this interaction with a Tal-Vashoth. Well...maybe she wasn't exactly Tal-Vashoth since it was her parents who had defected. But still... she was of the opinion that the Qun was wrong and... and it felt strange to be able to relax around someone like that. This sort of thing was usually reserved for people he considered closer to him... He grunted and groaned about it because he had an image to uphold. It wasn’t as if he could just sit here and get pampered, after all.
He didn’t think she wanted to try and kill him… and if she did, he was certain he could take her. But as time passed, he began to relax.  His horns needed the help since he had a heavy rack. She worked deftly, and all the irritation he felt simply melted away.
Then it was her turn, and she accepted his efforts with more grace than he’d accepted hers. Conversation and all, it took the better part of an hour before they were done… The door opened not a moment after he was finished making certain Siheta’s hair was fixed without getting any balm in it. 
It was Magpie, of all people! Her eyes widen fractionally before returning to their more neutral position.
“Hey… I was looking for you two. Didn’t think I’d find you together.” she said, looking between them before her eyes darted around. “I especially didn’t expect to find Bull styling Siheta’s hair.”
“What! I wasn’t—”
“Why were you looking for us?” Siheta interrupted.
..well, if she wasn’t bothered, he wouldn’t be either.
Hmph.
“They want a gathering in the map room.” She announced, her eyes staying on Siheta. “Your presence is requested.”
“Both?” the surprise was obvious in Bull’s tone
“Both.” she confirmed.
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vicunaburger · 4 years
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Admittedly, I’m Hard to See
Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 5/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,900 Warnings: M for Language
Notes: Beej is a little shit, but we knew that, yeah? He also has a wide knowledge of theatre.
Chapter 5 - In Which Things Go Awry Over Coffee
Lydia tapped impatiently on the glass container that held her still-brewing coffee.
She had thought that by getting a cheap French press it would bring nothing but benefits in the long run: delicious caffeine without leaving your house and waiting for some hipster barista to make it for you. Unfortunately, that just meant that she was now the hipster barista in her own home and had to make it herself, which took precious time away in the morning hours.
Sometimes, she would get lucky and Holidae would have already made it for her; a result that came from her roommate’s insomnia. Often, she would stay up all through the night, and into the next morning when Lydia would arrive for breakfast. Holidae would already be standing in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone as she sipped from her own cup.
Lucky might have been a selfish thought. More like benefiting off a friend’s unfortunate circumstances. Harsh, but Holidae never complained openly about it, so Lydia never worried about taking advantage.
The timer she had set went off loudly, and Lydia wandered over to the stove to shut it down. When she went back to the counter, her coffee was… gone.
Instead of flipping out at the sudden lack of an object that was once there and now isn’t, she calmly sat down at the kitchen table, taking a deep breath.
“If I don’t have a cup in my hands in the next 10 seconds, I’m calling a priest.” She announced to the seemingly empty space.
In a puff of green smoke her coffee appeared in her favored black mug, elegantly placed on a lime green coaster. Lydia picked up the cup, taking a sip with a relaxed sigh.
“Good morning, babes!” Beetlejuice appeared in the seat across from her, a newspaper in both hands. “Supposed to rain today.”
“Is that right? Damn… I was planning to shoot the cemetery later.” She tilted her head, trying to read the front page of the paper. “Why are you so… chipper?”
Beej put the paper down, “Because you’re home? Because I get to meet a new friend? Because rainy days bring out those fat worms in the garden and they are the best for snacking? Lots of reasons.”
Lydia stared deep into the dark liquid swirling around in the cup, “BJ, about Holli…”
The ghost tried to hide the chuckle he let out with a cough, remembering the previous night’s interactions with the breather. He was sure Lyds would get a kick out of the fact he had gotten Holidae to summon him without help from his bestest best friend. He was a very clever fiend.
“What about her?” He asked, going back to his paper nonchalantly.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t have you two meet last night.” She confessed, warming both hands around the cup. “I’m just nervous you two aren’t going to get along.”
Another suspicious cough, “Oh, don’t you worry, Lyds. From what you told me, I’m sure we’ll get along like the Sherman brothers.”
There was a long pause, “…Beej, they hated each other.”
“Really? But that sugar sweet song catalogue…” He peeked over the top of the paper incredulously, “Well, nevermind that. We’ll be the best pals, babes.”
Lydia sighed again, “You’re my best friend, Beej, but she’s my best non-ghost friend. What if I have pick sides in an argument? What if she freaks out and moves away forever? Its pressure I don’t want! That’s why I wanted to introduce you two on my terms.”
An unfamiliar sensation struck Beetlejuice deep in the pit of his stomach, “…yeah?”
“And… and Holidae isn’t always… balanced. Not in the psycho killer type way, but she can get stuck on this anxiety autopilot. It’s hard to get her out of her own head. It’s why she doesn’t sleep often.” Lydia continued, sipping her coffee quietly. “So I felt that if I steered the conversation between the three of us, it would keep everything neutral, you know?”
That sensation hit him harder this time, and he desperately tried to hide his face behind the paper, “…no, no I getcha’, babes. You were just being your usual, thoughtful self is all. No hard feelings. None. All good.”
Beetlejuice was infinitely glad he was hidden from view, lest Lydia see the bright yellow mess his hair had become; a clear sign he was nervous. He hadn’t stopped to consider Lydia might actually have a really good reason for keeping quiet about him, instead of just to prolong his torture. She was always thinking of other people – mostly him to be honest – and he had gone behind her back and completely botched her plans.
His stomach was doing flips, and he was sure he’d be sweating bullets right now if had the capacity.
Ah, guilt.
That was the feeling.
…it had been a while.
Not wanting Lydia to worry herself any more than she had, he tried to calm himself down, desperately willing his mood to change into something better. After a few moments, he vanished his paper out of existence, reaching over and patting Lydia on the head.
“Baaaaabes, don’t you worry! You just let me know when you need me, and I’ll come running. Or floating. Whichever I feel like. Anyway, what I’m saying is take your time and don’t get all antsy about stuff. I can behave… sometimes.” He smiled wide, hoping she couldn’t hear the tension in his voice.
Brushing his hand away, Lydia smoothed out her frizzed hair, “I appreciate it, Beej. As soon as she comes down, I’ll talk to her. Promise.”
“Hey, I’m easy.” He chuckled, vanishing into thin air, leaving his friend alone for the moment.
---
Beetlejuice reappeared in Holidae’s room, spotting the breather sprawled out on the bed and haphazardly tangled in her blankets. He noted she had changed clothes between now and when he left her; sporting what looked like men’s boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Not the slinky lingerie – or better yet commando – look he had secretly hoped for, but the shorts provided a good view of her well-rounded hips and thighs.
Tiptoeing over to the bed, he reached down and poked at her cheek lightly with his finger, “Hey, Holly Hobby, time to wake up. We need to talk.”
Absolutely no response came from the woman on the bed, only the continued rhythmic rising and falling of her chest. Undeterred, he scratched at her face with his claw, hoping the more abrasive touch would do the trick. Holidae inhaled deeply, swatting at her face and rolling over onto her stomach.
Not the response he wanted, although he was momentarily distracted by the fact her shorts were riding up against the swell of her ass. A strangled sort of noise worked its way out of his throat, little streaks of pink highlights sprouting throughout his hair. He told Lydia he could behave, but how could he when such an opportunity was staring him right in the face.
There was the nagging moral quandary to what he was about to do; and he did pause to consider the alternatives to his proposed action. Sure, he could just try and continue to wake her up nicely, but he knew his idea would a much faster – and profitable – venture.
Beetlejuice crackled his knuckles, limbering up as though he were gearing up for a boxing match. With a flourish, he brought the back of his hand down right on Holidae’s butt cheek; a sharp smack sounding out as his skin hit her flesh.
In an instant, Holidae was up and swinging wildly, managing to catch him in the jaw with a left hook. Of course, never having been in a real fist fight – watching plenty of action movies sure, but those didn’t count – she was unprepared for the jolt of pain running down her wrist with the impact. Clutching her hand to her chest, she fell back onto the bed, curling up like a ball bug.
“Son of a bitch-!” Holidae whined, nursing her hand, “What the absolute hell are you made of?”
Beej was working his jaw into place, not suspecting the sudden strength of the counterattack, “Dead guy stuff?”
“Fuck you!” She snapped, shaking out her hand to get some feeling back into it. “I knew that. Wish I didn’t, but I do. And now I will think about that forever.”
Between her hand popping loudly, and the stinging skin on her backside, Holidae was having a hell of a time trying to process being woken up so suddenly from her deep sleep. Beetlejuice took the opportunity to slide into bed next to her, pulling her up by her shoulders into a sitting position. She blinked at him owlishly; her hair flattened in odd places from sleep, and her mascara smudged under her eyes.
He threw an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her body against his and leaning in as though he were whispering a secret, “Listen, baby, when you come downstairs, you have to make sure Lydia has no idea we know each other.”
Holidae could smell that damp earth musk about him, her nose twitching with the scent, “Yeah, no, I’m going to tell her.”
Beetlejuice squeezed tighter, “Ah, see, here’s the part where I tell you that you’re going to keep your pretty mouth shut about it because I will make you keep it shut. Lydia is all stressed out about us getting along, and if she finds out that you and I are buddies, she will get angry. I don’t want angry Lydia. I want happy Lydia.”
She was about to object, but recalled an incident where she had seen angry Lydia firsthand. It was during an art show and a critic was being especially rude about one of the photos Lydia had been presenting as part of her collection. Needless to say, once she was done witnessing the small, doll-like Lydia completely tearing the man into pieces, Holidae resolved to never be on the receiving end of the other woman’s wrath.
Holidae could only imagine what she would have done to the ghost, and by extension, herself.
“If… if I agree, will you promise never to wake me up like that again?” she attempted to pry his hand off of her shoulder.
“Of course, Buddy Holly~ I will never wake you up like that again.” He grinned, inwardly excited that she hadn’t been more specific in her instructions.
He just loved loopholes.
Holidae side-eyed the ghost next to her, sticking out her hand for him to shake, “Deal.”
Beej took hold of her hand, giving it a good shake… before pulling her closer and planting a very sloppy kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best, you know that?”
Squealing in protest, Holidae shoved him away, “No no no, I don’t know where you’ve been!”
“Well-” He started, but he was interrupted.
“Rhetorical statement,” she pointed a finger at him threateningly, “If you want me to go along with your lie, go away. Now. Do the vanishing trick. I have to get dressed and stuff.”
Shrugging, BJ vanished into the air without a word. Holidae waited several minutes before getting up out of the bed, wanting to make sure she was alone before stripping out of her pajamas. Paranoid, she kept her chest covered as much as she possibly could, not trusting that he wasn’t lurking around somewhere trying to catch her off guard again.
Waiting until the last possible moment, she let the shirt drop to the floor, grabbing a bra and slipping it around her torso.
“I knew you had a big rack,” the gravely voice laughed behind her, but he was gone the moment she turned around.
Holidae angrily pulled her shirt over her head, mumbling in what she was quickly adopting as a new mantra, “We want happy Lydia… happy Lydia…”
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shadedrose01 · 4 years
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Young God
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Tags: idek how to tag this one, uhh, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, kind of?, more like, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies with benefits?, Rivalry, Rivals with benefits?, Its hard to explain aodjsk, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Nothing shown tho, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, parkner week 2020, Day 2, Arguing
Prompts: “And i said ‘no,’ you know, like a liar” / identity shenanigans / iron lad
Notes: Day 2, everybody! Hope you enjoy! 💞💞
Read on ao3 Here!
~~
He says "oo, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends,
I'm the king and you're the queen, and we will stumble through heaven,"
Peter sucks in a quick breath just before he crashes onto the rooftop, sliding across the sandpaper like tiles and feeling as it rips up his suit, the backs of his arms and legs, his hands as he claws and slows himself down until he finally stops, just at the edge of the house.
He stays still for a second, pants as he hears the mechanical whirrs and clicks of the robotic arms coming closer and closer to him, before he feels his hair stand up, and jumps backwards off of one rooftop to the other, just as Doc Ock crashes through the house below him, leaving only destruction in his wake. Peter listens sharply, for a scream or a cry but hears nothing, and feels a wave of relief knowing the family must not of been home, before its quickly wiped away as he instinctive jumps out of the way again, a claw crunching the stone he was stood on just moments before.
"Come on, Spider-Man," the man taunts, his bluish purple goggles gleaming in the setting sunlight. "Stop running away, and fight!"
Another claw, and another jump, except this time, Peter bounces off of the next rooftop he lands on, circling around and kicking the man right in the jawbone. "You asked for it!" He spits out as the kick throws him back, off kilter for a second, a moment that Peter tries to take to get out of distance again, out of range, but he's too slow, a third claw reaching for him, about to grab him-
Before its blasted to pieces by a bright purple light, and Peter cant help but to stifle the annoyed sigh that threatens to escape, the simmering anger that's been inside him all day starting to boil, to bubble up as he hears the familiar, way way too familiar Southern drawl call out, in all its mocking glory, "Hey squid boy, watch where you're throwing those things, someone could get hurt!"
Peter lands onto the brick wall, sticking into place and turns just to see Doc let out an irritated yell, and lunge for the bright red and gray suit, purple lights attached like lazor pointers to a cat, an easy target that never seems to faze the man no matter how many times Peter told him to tone them down. For once, Peter understands Docs anger, annoyance, as the suit weaves through his claws and shoots them apart with ease, laughing and mocking him the entire time. It makes his insides twist, and his blood boil, his heart racing and his teeth gritting together.
Peter throws himself off the wall just in time to kick Doc to the ground, all of his claws and weapons destroyed, and an affronted, almost insulted noise comes from the robotic suit flying beside him. "You can't just come in and steal the kill, that's not cool, dude!"
Peter doesn't even spare him a glance, webbing the villians hand, feet and then body to the ground. "What, like you did?"
"I did not," The robotizied voice cries out, like a child. "I was just helping you out, Spidey! You should be thanking me!"
Now, Peter can hear the smug grin on the man's face, and this time he can't help the bitter sigh that escapes, as he turns to send a heated glare. "Fuck off, Iron Lad."
He can practically see his eyebrows raise, even through the emotionless mask and the man laughs, loudly, his voice higher pitched with pure amusement as he says, "Oh ho ho, Man! What's got you in a piss poor mood, huh? Having a bad Spidey day, Spider-Man?"
Peter's nostrils flare, and he has to physically hold back the words that long to spill from his mouth, tasting bitter on his tongue, flames licking at his lungs. "Police?" He asks instead, glancing away to glare at the stones below him, his hands clenched hard into fists.
"On the way, eta maaybe two minutes?"
"Then let's go." Peter doesn't wait for an answer, shooting a web off into the distance and yanking himself away, huffing out a breath when he hears the very clear, "Sir, yes sir!" And the echo of replusors sound from behind him, following him like they always do.
"If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes,
I know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight,"
Peter swings for a while, trying to ignore, pretend that the metallic sounds of blasters aren't following him, hoping that eventually, the man, that Harley would get the hint and leave him the fuck alone today, but after a while, he realizes that won't happen and lands on the top of a building, crashing to the ground a little rougher than necessary, feeling his bubbling anger, annoyance rising higher and higher in his chest.
"Finally," The suit groans out, landing right beside Peter on the rooftop before flailing his arms out dramatically. "I thought you were never gonna stop, jeez."
"I'm on patrol." Peter growls out, going to the edge of the rooftop to look down and focus his hearing, to make sure he doesn't miss any moments, any crime that he needs to stop, almost wishing, itching that there was some so he could get away from the man encased in metal. He doesn't know why his presence is bugging him so much today- he's normally annoying, sure but not this much, never this bad- but it is and Peter just longs to get away (even as a part of him begs to get closer).
The man just huffs, his neon purple eyes seeming stare into Peter's soul incredulously. "Thats never stopped you before." When Peter just ignores him, the man takes a step forward and his helmet retracts, the face of the one and only Harley Stark- son to Tony Stark, heir to Stark industeies and the main pain in Peters ass for the last eight months- scrunched up with a weird mix of childish annoyance and worry that makes him look constipated. "Seriously, Spidey. What's going on? Are you okay?"
The real concern that slips into the mans tone makes Peter's insides twist, but he ignores it as he spits out, "Why do you care? Thought you only cared about yourself?"
Its intentionally rude, and he knows it hits its mark when a pang of hurt runs across Harley's features before it disappears back into a blank slate so similar to the one his father wears for the same reason, to hide the pain. "You know that's not true." Even his voice has gone back to painfully neutral, and any satisfaction Peter anticipated to feel is overwhelmed by a sickening guilt that poisons him from the inside out, twists his stomach and makes him feel nauseous.
He should apologize, he knows, but he's still- he still feels the burning, the fire under his skin, in his bloodstream, charring his lungs, molten lava in his veins, and he can't stop the sour words from slipping past his lips, with a faint mocking laugh. "Do I?"
"I thought you did." He mutters, his usually bright, summer day skies eyes darkening as a storm cloud passes by, rumbling with a thunder that makes Peter's heart thump heavily in his chest. "I know you do. I know you don't really like me, I get that, but you normally aren't this much of a dick about it. This isn't you."
Peter just laughs again, bitter and twisted and wrong sounding, even to himself. "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."
He says, "oo baby girl, don't get caught on my edges,
I'm the king of everything, you know my tongue is a weapon,"
Harley's eyes just narrow more, his jaw clenching, and Peter can see his words are started to get to him, his fingers twitching and his shoulders raising. Good. "I think I know more about you than you think."
"Do you?" Peter snorts, shaking his head in exasperation as he glances over to the man, glaring, the fire burning brighter, flames licking at his throat. "Say, what do you know about me?"
"I know your kind," He starts, scowling, counting on his fingers as if Peter is a child that he's lecuring. "I know you're considerate. I know you put everyone else before yourself, because you think somehow, subconsciously that your life is worth less than others. I know you feel guilty for something that happened in the past, and try to better yourself because of it. I know you care, much more than you let on." Peter snorts, trying to ignore the emotions and raw feelings bubbling in his throat, and Harley just continues, ignoring it. "I may not know your name, or your face, or your- your identity but I know you, Spidey. And this," He makes a waving motion at Peter's body, "whatever this is, it isn't you. So Explain. What's going on?"
He's almost pleading, now, begging for Peter to tell him and the masked man almost longs to tell him, but honestly, he doesn't even know what's wrong. He's felt this burning, this itch for something since he woke up, and as the day went on, he grew more and more irritated, irate, a chemical reaction gone wrong, Harley acting as a catalyst and speeding up the reaction until now, its starting to explode, bubbling over the glass and creating a mess of emotions.
Peter can't tell him that, though, can't tell him that he's being a dick for nothing, so he just shrugs him off, looking away again and muttering a quick, "Nothing."
He can almost feel the tension in the air rise, turning thick as Harley bristles and flares, "Let me help you, for fucks sake!"
"Maybe I don't want you to help me!" Peter sparks back, whipping his head back around to glare at the man, the energy high, electric around them.
"There's a light in the crack, that separates your thighs,
And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight,"
"Oh, no. You do." Harley sneers, stepping forward, closer to Peter. "You do, you're just too much of a coward to admit it."
Peter rolls up his mask to his nose, and glares heavily at the man, taking a step towards him in retaliation. "Middle school insults, really?"
"Only telling the truth." Another step forward. "You're a coward who tries to hide his true feelings and pretend they don't even, even though you know they do."
"Oh yeah?" Another step, and suddenly, they're face to face, their noses millimeters apart, almost brushing in their proximity. "Say that again, I dare you."
Harley takes the bait, leaning in closer until Peter can feel his air on his lips, their breath mixing. "You're a coward, Spider-Man."
And Peter thinks he's going to punch him. His fists are clenched, his body is tense, he's bracing himself to do it. But instead, he finds himself grabbing his shoulders tightly and pushing their lips together, his mind whirling as the reaction bubbles over and the flame in his chest ignites into a wildfire, bright and untamable as Harley kisses back just as heavily, just as intensely, pressing him back back back until his back is pushed against a brick wall. Their lips don't disconnect, their heads turning and tongue swirling as Harley's hands roam up and down Peter's suit, over his arms, chest and abs, Peter's moan being swallowed into Harley's mouth, only to be reciprocated moments later.
The kiss breaks only to allow Peter to jump into Harleys arms, his legs wrapped around and sticking to the waist of the metal suit and his arms around his neck before theyre reconnected again, sucking face and groaning into each others mouths.
"My place?" The blond asks, voice muddled by lips and tongue and teeth, and Peter only nods instead of answering, pressing his face into his neck to leave marks, bites and bruises as the other man wraps his arms around his waist and under his ass, before the repulsors start back up and they fly away, towards the giant looming tower in the distance.
And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool, for a while now,
Drowning my thoughts out with the sounds,
Peter blinks awake slowly, hearing the faint whisper of a fan and a steady mechanical hum and feeling the satin, silk sheets beneath his fingertips. He turns his head slowly, his brain still groggy as he sees the other man, Harley beside him, his ryestalk hair askew and his face lax, more youthful than Peter's ever seen it, the sheet only covering to halfway up his chest, the rest out in the open, bare outside of the bright red marks still covering his skin. He flushes slightly as the memory's return from the night before, or, evening? He looks to the large, floor to ceiling windows beside the bed to see that it's still nighttime, the bright moonlight shining in through the clear glass, the pale blinds and illumating the room, casting shadows onto Harley's features and making him look... softer, ethereal, such a contrast to his sharp words and his even sharper personality. He finds he likes it, the softer, gentler look, and finds himself staring for a few moments, taking the moment in before he sits up slowly, making sure not to awaken the other man, and stands.
He finds a pair of pants on the floor, and a shirt he isn't sure is clean or dirty, throwing them both on before noticing a glass door, leading out into a balcony on the other side of the room. He had remembered landing somewhere early, hazily, though he obviously wasnt focused on it. It must've been there. He finds himself drawn to it, tiptoeing quietly over to the door and sliding it open before stepping outside, and taking a large inhale of the chilled air. He moves to the railing of the balcony, listening to the faint breeze of the late August winds, the car horns and honks in the distance, stares down at the still busseling, still alive city below them, not really focusing on anything, not really thinking, just breathing, feeling, living.
That must be why he doesn't hear the other man stirring, or hear him approch until the door behind him clicks open again. Peter doesn't turn around, doesn't have to, just continuing to watch the cars drive by until two arms wrap around his waist, gently, warily, until a, now clothed, chest is pressed against his back, and a chin rests on his shoulder. Peter just exhales, leaning back into the other mans grip, feeling more relaxed, more at ease than he has in a while, longer than he can remember.
Do you feel like a young god?
You know the two of us are just young gods,
"Do you ever..." Peter doesn't know when, or why, he starts to speak, doesn't think of what he says as he murmurs, hushed, low, a whisper, "feel like a young god? With these powers, the suits, the- the responsibility..." Harley just hums, faintly, and they start to sway, subtle, gentle back and forth motions, back and forth, like waves cascading onto a beach. "They all look up to me. The people, the city. They all-" Peter shakes his head, sighing lightly, airy. "And sometimes I just... sometimes I just don't know if I'm enough, you know? Sometimes I just..."
"Need a break." The other man finishes, murmurs, his lips brushing against Peter's cheek and sends tingles down his back.
"I-I guess so, yeah." There's a few moments, a few seconds where they just sit in the comfortable silence, where Peter glances up at the smog filled sky, seeing a few stars shining through, the almost full moon gleaming brightly down at them.
Before, "Let me help, baby." Harley whispers, pleads, and Peter goes to protest but the blond beats him to it. "You're burnt out, constantly saving the city, saving the world, constantly being the punching bag for everyone else, let me help. Please, Peter," And that was something new, too, Harley knowing his name, knowing his face, knowing him through and through, though he knows the other man won't tell, won't share, turning his head with easy fingers to look him in the eye, his ocean blues almost neon in the glow of the moon. "Let me help you."
They stare at each other, flickering from eye to eye for a few beats, a few thumps in Peter's chest, and he doesn't answer, not really, just lowers his head and places it onto Harley's chest, into the crook of his neck, but his lack of an answer is answer enough. The older man just presses a drawn out kiss onto the top of his head, and holds him closer, a non spoken thank you that sends Peter reeling, unused to the feeling of care, of concern, of love.
And yet, surrounded by strong arms and held closely to a firm chest, Peter feels at his strongest, feels comforted, known, feels safe. He closes his eyes, and just breathes, let's himself have this moment of calm and quiet in the arms of his love.
And we'll be flying through the streets, with the people underneath,
And they're running, running, running...
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Mother Knows Best
Author’s notes: Another SpeedDemon fic? Say it ain’t so. I’m kidding. Can’t remember why I decided to write this aside from causing my bestie @girlwonder123x some pain (love you!). I also reference a few stories on @dctinytitans so you should totally check them out! (next Fic is gonna be a Lian Harper fic)
Rating: M for swearing and violence.
Words: 4606
         “Ok, lightning bug,” Irey reaches into her daughter’s crib,” Mama’s here. I gotcha.”
         Irey speaks softly, mostly about nothing, as she changes the five-month-old. Asha looks up at her mother, looking every bit like her father except for those dazzling green eyes, babbling and gurgling to herself. Irey smiles. She tickles the little girl, filling the room with giggles,” Someone’s in a good mood. You wanna see if Baba’s up? Huh? You wanna talk to Baba?”
         Asha snuggles up to her mother as they go to the living room. Irey makes a list of things she needs to do as she settles on the couch, pulling her nursing bra to the side. Asha latches on easily, long lashes fluttering shut. Irey looks down at her daughter with so much love. Breastfeeding is one of the things she’s loved most about being a mom. The health benefits and science behind it she loves, but being able to hold her baby, bonding with her this way is something she will never take for granted. After all, It’s something she never thought she would get.
         When Irey and her twin brother, Jai, were 13, they’d been told that they have a very low chance of ever having kids. This was due to the stress their powers put on their bodies, as they had to produce more ATP and there had been more science babble that Irey heard but didn’t process. At 13, she knew at some point she wanted a family, but not now. It didn’t really hit her until she was 17 and she had been dating Damian a while. They’d been cuddling on her bed, talking about nothing in particular. It just hit her how much she wanted to grow old and have a family with him. And how that might not happen.
         When Irey found out she was pregnant, she straight up called her doctor a liar. He did three different pregnancy tests, two in front of her face. She still couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t until that first ultrasound, where she heard Asha’s heartbeat for the first time, that it hit her. She was having a baby. The baby now nestled in her arms, contently nursing.
         Irey takes another minute to just be with her daughter before grabbing her communicator. She can’t exactly call Damian’s cell phone, but the process of getting in touch with him on the communicators is a pain in the ass. She has to request it, hope to whatever is out there that he’s available to talk and has service, and, even then, it’s not like they can really talk because it’s being recorded. Irey rolls her eyes as she selects Robin V (His brothers and Steph don’t even use the damn names anymore) and waits, her eyes drifting around the room. She smiles at a picture on the mantle. Damian and Irey are maybe 11 and curled up together in an oversized armchair. They were in the Wayne Manor library. Damian’s arm had found its way around her, holding her loosely. Irey, on the other hand, had both arms around his waist and her face practically buried in his neck, cuddling him like he was a teddy bear. You’d never know two seconds later he was punching Dick in the face.
         That had been the day they met. Her dad needed to talk to Dick (who she has long since stopped calling Uncle Dick because it was too weird) about something, and Damian was saddled with her. Damian had been an asshole towards her. He’s the first to admit it, but things got better as the day went on. He’d gotten her a rose from the garden after finding her crying there. He ended up reading Hamlet to her. Irey, to this day, still has no idea how they ended up cuddling in the photo. She just remembers feeling warm and Damian’s smooth voice reading the words she doesn’t quite understand.
         “Hello, my beautiful flower,” Irey looks at her communicator’s screen. Her heart soars at the sight of Damian. He looks like hell. Dark hair messy, dirt and sweat cover his face, showing her where his mask had been, a bruise starting to form on his cheek up towards his forehead. Irey beams, thinking he’s never looked more handsome.
         “Hey, babe,” Irey adjusts herself as Asha finishes feeding,” We miss you.”
         “Miss you too. I don’t like being away from my girls,” Damian smiles,” How are you?”
         “Well, not tracking a drug cartel in Guatemala, but I can’t complain,” Irey points the camera at Asha. The baby squeals at her father’s image, stretching her little fists out for him,” I think Asha misses her baba.”
         “Hi, Hayati,” Damian coos to his daughter,” I miss you so much. Baba loves you and can’t wait to see you tonight.”
         “Tonight?” Irey points the communicator back at her,” You all finished already?”
         “It’s been a week, Nuri,” he points out.
         “You’re working with Lian, Gar, and Bart. Forgive me for thinking the mission would last longer,” She teases. Damian smirks.
         “Why do you think I’m leading the team?” Irey snorts at this,” No, we finished yesterday. Father said to stick around til tonight, see if any more news comes our way. Then they’ll zeta us home.
         “I can’t wait to see you,” Irey gives him a smirk that sends a jolt of electricity down his spine,” I miss my fiancé. The bed is too big and cold without you.”
         “I’m sure we can warm it up,” Damian assures her with a wink,” Honestly, as much as I love you, Irey, it’s taken everything for me to not murder Bart. I can’t believe he’s related to you.”
         “I usually chalk it up to a future thing and leave it at that. Besides, your family isn’t much better.” Irey stands up, getting Asha a bottle of formula. Poor baby has her mother’s overactive metabolism. Irey sets the communicator on the counter, so she can still talk to him.
         “Fair enough,” Damian chuckles,” What do you two have planned for today?”
         Irey looks down at Asha, speaking in her baby voice,” Well, when it’s not 2:34 in the morning, Mama and Asha are going to get breakfast with Uncle Jai-Jai. Then we have to go to the doctor to get weighed. And if we’re still in a good mood, we’re gonna go grocery shopping and get yummy things to try; like bananas and strawberries and-“
         “You know,” A cool voice behind her interrupts,” If you speak to her like that, your daughter will grow up to be dimwitted.”
         Irey drops the bottle in her hand, whipping around. A woman looks at her. Dark brown hair, green eyes, caramel skin. Irey adjusts her grip on Asha, holding her as close to her chest as she can,” Talia.”
         “Irey?” Damian’s voice calls out. Irey uses a very tiny portion of her speed to grab the communicator so Damian can see her. She doesn’t dare use anymore or got too far, in fear of hurting Asha. Irey gasps when a dart hits her arm, barely missing her baby,” IREY?!”
         “Hello, my son,” Talia says coolly. Irey isn’t sure who recoils more at the words- her or Damian.
         “Damian,” Irey’s voice is firm,” I need you to hang up- “
         “N- “
         “Hang up and call the league.” Irey barks, not taking her eyes off of Talia. She feels different, slower. Whatever was in that dart must be neutralizing her powers. She growls,” What do you want?”
         “Can’t a grandmother come to see her granddaughter?” Talia moves towards her. Irey steps back, keeping her grip on Asha tight.
         “Stay. The. Hell. Away. From. My. Baby.” Irey spits. Talia smirks and it takes everything for Irey not to think of how much it looks like Damian’s.
         “You don’t scare me, speedster.”
         “I might not be scary, but I can be pretty fucking ruthless when it comes to my daughter’s safety.” Damian’s still watching, unable to move.
         “Who said it’s her safety you need to worry about?” Irey doesn’t have time to react as Talia pulls out a gun and fires at her. Just before Damian’s feed cuts out, he hears a crash and Asha crying…
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
         Dick, Jason, Cass, and Tim are silent as they enter their little brother’s apartment. Normally, they would stop to look at some of the pictures on the wall, as Irey likes to switch them out. Now they stop because of the blood splatter on the wall and the trail on the floor. Jason kneels beside a streak and mouths fresh. While Cass and Tim clear the living room and kitchen, Jason and Dick check down the hall. They open doors along the way, waiting for someone to jump out at them. Nothing. They check the master bedroom, finding nothing but an unmade bed and a pile of laundry. The men jump at the sharp cry that comes from the only room yet to be cleared.
         Cass and Tim meet them outside Asha’s room. Cass mouths Home clear. They nod. Dick throws the door open. Asha wails from her crib, holding onto the railing. While the other three check the room, Dick picks up his niece,” Hey, hey, hey. You’re ok. I got you, pretty girl, I got you.”
         “Dick.” Tim flips on the light. The front of Asha’s purple pajamas is covered in blood. Tears cut trails in the splatters on her cheeks.
         “Jesus fucking Christ,” Jason picks up a note in her crib. SAVE MY MOMMY in crisp feminine letters. The siblings exchange a knowing glance. This wasn’t good. Dick bounces Asha, trying to calm her, as Jason grumbles,” Wally’s gonna blow a gasket. Damian’s gonna blow a gasket.”
         “Baby,” Cass holds her arms out to Dick,” Give me baby.”
         Dick gently passes Asha to Cass. The dancer moves around the room in quick, sharp steps. The same pattern over and over. Most babies would hate the movement. Most babies don’t have Irey West for a mother. Asha’s cries fade to hiccups as she rests in her aunt’s arms, looking around for her mother or father.
         “We need to get her somewhere safe,” Tim says. Dick nods, already grabbing the prepacked diaper bag that Irey kept on the rocking chair. He opens her drawers, looking for something warm for the baby to wear in the cold December night.
         “So…who wants to tell Damian his fiancée and the mother of his child has been kidnapped by his mother?” Jason asks. No one answers him. No one wants to answer.
         After making sure Asha is secured to Jason’s chest with three separate straps and bundled up as warm as possible, the group heads towards the Batcave. It takes almost an hour to get there as Jason avoids any rough roads. Asha sleeps the whole way. They head Damian screaming the minute they ride into the cave.
         “WHERE ARE THEY?!” He roars at Bruce, Clark, and Diana,” WHERE’S MY FAMILY?!”
         “Damian, you need to calm down,” Bruce’s voice is firm and even.
         “DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN I JUST SAW THE LOVE OF MY LIFE GET SHOT BY MY MOTHER WHILE HOLDING OUR CHILD!”
         Asha wakes up at the sounds of her father’s shouts. She wriggles against her uncle, not wanting him anymore. Jason quickly unhooks her.
         “Damian-“Dick begins.
         “WHAT?!” Damian whips around. Everyone, everyone, watches his shoulders relax and his eyes soften. They hear the breath he releases at the sight of his daughter. Asha holds her arms out to him, babbling and cooing. Damian runs to Jason, cape flying up behind him, and taking her from him. He holds her tight, kissing her dark curls over and over and over,” I’m here. Daddy’s here. You’re safe. I got you. Daddy’s got you. I got you.”
         He holds her tight, just reminding himself that she’s here and alive and safe. But then he takes a closer look. Little bits of blood still fleck her cheeks and neck. His heart stops,” Where’s Irey?”
         None of his siblings answer him. Dick is the only one to meet his eyes. Instead of answering, he hands his little brother the evidence bag with the note inside. As quickly as his demeanor had changed when he saw Asha, it changes again. All the light fades from his eyes and his face grow tight. Asha gurgles in her father’s arms, typically something that would make him smile at her. This time he doesn’t react. He doesn’t look at his daughter, instead handing her to Dick. Asha’s confused as her father walks away. She starts crying. Damian doesn’t react.
         “Where are you going?” Dick asks, trying to calm Asha. The baby cries harder, stretching her arms out for Damian.
         “To find Irey,” Damian, without a second thought, hops onto his old motorcycle. He rides away before anyone can say anything to him.  
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
         Irey grits her teeth as the pain courses through her body. She won’t scream. Talia doesn’t get to hear her scream. Instead, Irey pulls on her chains. Why the fuck a church has a dungeon she’s not sure. Talia nods at her henchman, who cuts the electricity off. Irey releases a sharp breath.
         “I’m impressed,” Talia says, looking at Irey like a piece of meat,” I didn’t think you’d last this long.”
         “Fuck. You.” Irey growls. Her hair falls over her shoulders and into her eyes.
         Talia ignores this,” I suppose my son wouldn’t be attracted to someone weak. Though I still don’t see why he would choose you.”
         “Because I actually love him,” Irey doesn’t care if Talia knows it,” I love him and I love who he is- “
         “You stupid girl, you don’t know who he is- “
         “I know who you tried to turn him into. A cold-blooded killer who would never love anyone. Never let anyone in. And guess what, bitch? That isn’t Damian.” Irey can’t stop the cry of pain as Talia turns the electricity on again. Irey can tolerate more than a normal human, thank you speed force, but her muscles tighten until it feels like they’re ripping. She’s breathing heavily as the power cuts off.
         “I know my son better than some whore.” Talia’s words sting, but Irey meets her eyes.
         “I’m not a whore. I’m the love of his life, the mother of his child-“
         “A bastard-“
         “Just like her father.” Irey hates saying it, but technically it’s true,” But until her father, Asha will have a mother who loves her. Who will protect her. Who won’t ever use her like she’s just a pawn in a bigger game.”
         Talia slaps her across the face. Irey looks back at the older woman’s eyes, refusing to back down,” You think you scare me, bitch? I’m Irey West. I’ve been doing this shit since I was 10. There’s nothing you can do to me that I haven’t already been through.”
         “Maybe not you,” Talia’s fingernails dig into Irey’s cheeks,” But there’s a little girl I can still hurt.”
         Irey doesn’t recognize her voice through the anger and venom,” If you touch my daughter, I’ll shove my hand through your heart.”
         “My dear, there isn’t anything you can do to stop me-“
         “But there’s plenty I can do.” Both women look up. Damian stands in the doorway, blood on his uniform and his unsheathed katana. Irey relaxes at the sight of him,” Get away from her.”
         “Get him!” Talia shouts at the henchmen. Irey watches in horror as they attack Damian. But then she sees the cold look in his eyes. No.
         Damian doesn’t hesitate to kill the men, slicing them down as if they are inconveniences. No mercy, no pausing. Just killing. It’s just her, Talia, and Damian a minute later. Talia seems shocked,” I thought you weren’t supposed to kill.”
         “Doesn’t mean I can’t. I will say this one more time. Get. Away. From. Irey.” He snarls. Talia looks between Irey and Damian. Reaching into her pocket, she holds up a switch.
         “Unless I walk out of here, Asha will never see her mother again.” Damian looks between his mother and Irey. Irey can see some light come back into his eyes, see her Damian returning.
         “I won’t hurt you,” Damian sheathes his katana. He slowly moves towards them. Talia backs away towards another door. Just as Damian reaches Irey, Talia flips the switch. Irey screams at the top of her lungs, her back arching and every nerve flaring in pain.
         She sees snippets of her life pass before her eyes. She’s helping her mom make pancakes. Her dad is reading Lord of the Rings to her and Jai. She’s learning to throw lightning. She’s jumping around her room. She’s dancing in her underwear. She’s kissing Damian for the first time, his hands on her waist, the rain hitting their skin. Lian is shouting in her ear as something explodes. Mar’i’s teaching her how to make a Tamaranian dish. Jon’s telling her about an article he’s working on. Damian’s pressing kisses to her skin, telling her how beautiful she is. She’s holding Asha for the first time. Damian is down on one knee, asking her to be his forever.
         The pain cuts off and Irey slumps forward. Everything hurts. Her lungs feel like they’ve been fried. Her vision is blurry. Damian is at her chains. He picks the locks with ease and grabs her before she can fall to the ground. She can hear his heart beating. She can feel his arms shaking.
         “Irey…” She nearly sobs at the gentle way he says her name. She looks up at him.
         “Let’s go home.” She whispers. He nods. Damian removes his cape, wrapping it around her. She doesn’t bother reminding him that she doesn’t get cold. Irey lets him pick her up, breathing in his scent. Underneath the sweat and dirt, she picks up the traces of his cinnamon cologne. This is her Damian. He’s hers. She just has to remind him of that.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
         Irey winces as Alfred dresses her shoulder. Whatever the dart had in it has yet to wear off. At least she has a cool new scar to show off.
         “I’m sorry, Miss Irey. Shouldn’t be much longer,” He assures her. Irey gives him a pained smile.
         “Would you believe me if I said giving birth to Asha with no painkillers hurt less than tonight?”
         “Miss Irey, you’ve sparred with Miss Mar’i before. I don’t doubt that you’ve faced worse pain in your life.” Irey laughs at this, then grabs her ribs,” Master Damian seems to be in a better mood.”
         “I saw him, Alfred. He went back to who he was before. Jason told me…He told me Asha was crying and Damian walked away from her.” Alfred finishes wrapping her shoulder.
         “Miss Irey, there are very few things in this world that we can change. Who Master Damian was before coming here is one of them.” Irey looks down,” However, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him act like that.”
         “Really?”
         “Yes. I believe the last time he gave into the darkness was about 5 years ago. After Miss Mar’i was nearly killed by her aunt.” For some reason this makes her feel a little better,” Miss Irey, if I may, Master Damian will never be free of those demons. No matter how much you might want to believe he could be, they are still there.”
         “I don’t know how to help him, Alfred.” She looks at the old butler,” I’m going to be his wife-“
         “Which means you, more than anyone else, have the privilege of knocking sense into his thick skull. Not an easy task as I’m sure you are aware of.”
         Irey laughs at this, ignoring the pain it causes her,” What would this family have done without you, Alfred Pennyworth?”
         “I do not believe the family would be as whole as they are. And a few of them would be missing limbs.” Irey laughs again. There’s a soft knock on the door,” It’s open.”
         Damian enters, holding a now sleeping Asha. He smiles at Irey. Irey sees his family at the doorway. She looks Alfred,” Can we have the room for a minute?”
         “Of course.” Alfred gathers his things and shoos the other’s away from the door. Damian sits on the bed with her.
         “How much trouble am I in?” He asks in Arabic. Both of them knew his family was probably listening right outside the door, but none of them spoke Arabic. Irey had learned it after they were dating.
         “Do you want me to answer honestly or sugar coat it?”
         “Honestly.”
         “Damian, you shut down. They told me Asha was crying, crying for you, and you ignored her. Not once, in her entire life, have you done that.” Irey looks down at their sleeping daughter. Asha’s curls are damp from her usual night sweats. She sucks on a baby bottle top. She’s content in her father’s arms,” I know what happened scared you. It scared me too. But things like this will happen in the future.”
         “You don’t know that-“
         “I know we both agreed that we would continue to be heroes. To set an example for Asha. To make the world a better, safer place for her to grow up in.”
         “How could it be a better place for her to grow up in if her mother isn’t there? How can I look our beautiful little girl in the eyes and promise I will never let anything bad happen to her when I couldn’t protect you? How can I possibly look her in the eyes if I have to tell her she will never hear you sing her to sleep or hold her or tell her you love her?”
         “Baby, I know you are scared. I don’t know what I would do if you died and I had to raise Asha by myself. But that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried you will take all that hurt and anger and sadness and you’ll shut her out. You can’t do that. Not to Asha.”
         “Irey- “
         “I mean it, Damian. You cannot ignore Asha. No matter how much you are hurting. No matter how much you miss me. Asha needs you. She needs her father. She needs you to be there to wipe her tears away, patch up her skinned knees, fix her broken heart. She needs you to tell her stories about our old missions and how we fell in love. About the song you sang to me when you told me you had a crush on me. About our first kiss in the rain and the horrible head colds we had afterward. She needs you to chase the monsters away. She needs her daddy, especially if Mommy can’t be there.”
         Damian gives her a sad look,” I hate that my mother hurt you.”
         “Babe.” Irey kisses him. It’s soft and sad and longing,” What happened is not your fault. It’s hers. Only hers. You are not like her.”
         Damian tucks a strand of her fiery hair behind her ear,” I love you, Irey West. You are half my heart.”
         “I wonder who the other half is,” Irey presses a kiss to Asha’s forehead.
         “HAVE YOU TWO MADE UP YET?!” Jason yells. Irey laughs and Damian rolls his eyes.
         “Come on in, you guys,” Irey calls out. His family piles into the room. Damian scoots on the bed so he’s sitting beside her.
         “So the wedding still on?” Jason asks.
         “Todd, I swear to god-“
         “Actually,” Irey turns to Damian,” Can I see your ring?”
         Damian frowns, but hands over the obsidian engagement ring she’d given him two months ago. Irey’s own ring was at home. Irey turns to face him, holding one of his hands. Her eyes meet his, filled with love and awe,” Damian Wayne-Al Ghul, you are an impulsive man. You can be short tempered, bitter, broody-“
         “Have I mentioned how much I love this girl?” Jason asks. Dick shushes him.
         “There are a million things about you that I should hate. But I don’t. I don’t hate them, even though everyone keeps telling me I should.” Irey’s green eyes sparkle,” I meant what I said the first time I proposed. I’ve loved you since the day we met. You are my best friend, my rock, my confidant, my lightning rod. You have made me feel so beautiful and powerful and strong. Even though your mom is literally the worst mother-in-law ever, I still want to be your wife.”
         Damian beams at her. Irey holds up the ring and asks,” So, Damian Wayne-Al Ghul, do you still want to be my husband?”
         “Of course,” Damian laughs,” I have backed out yet.”
         Irey laughs and slips his ring back on,” Good because it would have been really awkward if you told me no in front of your family.”
         “We would have had to kick your ass,” Tim informs his little brother.
         “I think you mean try,” Irey says.
         “You have to take his side- “
         “Actually,” Irey turns to face the Batfam,” I decided to calculate who wins more often in a fight by reviewing old footage. Damian wins his fights against Tim 68% of the time, Jason 54%, Dick 77% of the time, and Cass 49.5% of the time. This means his odds of kicking your asses is about 62.125%”
         Damian grins at his brothers’ and sister’s stunned expressions,” She’s as smart as she is beautiful.”
         “I like you a lot less now,” Jason grunts.
         “What about Damian and Bruce?”
         “Insufficient information to draw a conclusion.” Irey grins,” You want to hear how likely he is to beat me in a fight?”
         The others roar with laughter, waking Asha. Irey gently takes the baby from Damian, shushing her. Asha looks up at her parents, specifically Damian. Then, clear as day, she exclaims,” Baba!”
         The other adults laugh while Damian and Irey look at each other stunned.
         “Bottle would be her first word,” Dick laughs.
         “She’s not saying bottle,” Damian’s trying very hard not to cry.
         “She said ‘baba’ that’s like universal baby talk for bottle,” Tim points out.
         “Baba,” Irey smiles at them,” means Daddy in Arabic. That’s what we call Damian at home. He’s Asha’s baba.”
         “Baba!” Asha smiles up at Damian,” Baba, baba, baba, baba…”
         “You know most infants aren’t actually talking around this time,” Tim informs them,” They just babble and we try to make sense of the gibberish-“
         Damian throws one of his hidden knives at Tim’s head. He misses, intentionally, but it shuts the older man up. The family decides to leave the young couple alone. Irey lays back, watching Damian as he coos to Asha in Arabic. His hands carefully caressing her curls and wiping drool from her chin. Irey smiles. This is her future.
         “I promise,” Damian says a little while later, Asha sleeping with her head on his shoulder. Irey looks at him, confused.
         “You promise what?”
         “I promise to not shut Asha out. If anything happens to you, I promise I won’t shut down. Or I’ll try at least.” Irey looks up at him, tears blurring her eyes.
         “Promise?”
         “Promise.” Damian pulls Irey close to him. She wraps her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face into his shirt. Damian listens as her breathing evens out and all the muscles in her body relax. This, this right here is heaven. His daughter sleeping on his chest and the love of his life at his side, both of them safe and loved and alive and with him.
         What more could he ask for?
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crunchyenglish · 7 years
Text
Angry Lunatic's Scientific Journal of Shit I Made Up. Vol. This One
Feeling uncharacteristically productive today, and my new job is unusually slow. Time for another edition of my extremely occasional series, where I take the bold, dynamic declarations of the internet's lowest life forms and try to hold them up as an actual scientific hypothesis. I also try to learn something, which is usually the easy part given my limited knowledge base and tremendously narrow worldview. And since I'm making pretty liberal use of the word "scientific", here's the usual disclaimer:
I am not, and never have been a scientist. My education is paltry and laughable. Part of the point of this series is that this knowledge is freely available to anyone with an internet connection (which all my targets obviously have) and a desire to learn (which all my targets obviously lack). My only qualifications are a willingness to spend sometime Googling and a desire to showcase the stupidity of others.
Note: A lot of the dumbest discourse on the Internet these days is political in nature. Nothing seems to shut down people's ability to reason and function quite as much as cheering for or against a political party. And that landscape is currently filled bizarre conspiracy theories that are deeply tempting to rebuke or debunk. However, they aren't really in the spirit of this series, and unfortunately politics breeds that stuff because there's a lot of grey area and no source is considered very objective these days. Also, no one following politics has ever learned anything except "we are a fucked up species", and learning is my stated secondary goal.
So, with the housekeeping out of the way, let's get to this issue's hypothesis. This one comes to us from Mathew Shields. From his website, "He is a free- lance researcher and international speaker on the human energy field, paranormal phenomenon and healing techniques to name a few." That's right, it's time for this journal to up its game and beginning analyzing the claims of professional bullshitters. Mat Shields is a top-shelf dickhead with a bunch of suckers following in tow, and this claim in particular stands out as primo material for our little article:
"Negative Ions- the invisible healer.
Negative ions enhance our mood, stimulate our senses, improve appetite and sexual drive, provide relief from hay fever, sinusitis, bronchial asthma, allergies, migraines, even post operative pain and burns. Negative ions stimulate the reticuloendothelial system which is a group of defense cells in our bodies which marshal our resistance to disease. Negative ions promote alpha brain waves and increased brain wave amplitude which results in a higher awareness level. The body is better able to absorb oxygen into the blood cells, oxidize serotonin and filter airborne contaminants."
That's actually just the opening to a much larger article, in which Mat tells people to keep their shower running constantly in their house, since water in motion produces more "negative ions" than standing water. Before I get angry (ok, I admit it, too late) let's take a moment and appreciate this fine, thick slice of bullshit. This really is a master class. You can tell we've moved up to the big leagues here. You can't tweet this level of bullshit. It's got a bunch of impressive sounding words. It's claims are vague and opaque enough to confuse and desirable enough to tempt. Truly splendid bullshit. Now, let's figure out how we're going to take it down.
Negative Ions are a widespread health myth, propagated by all sorts of pseudo-doctor types. Typing "Negative Ions" into Google is going to get you a lot of positive results, and not all on homemade web pages with links to a Zionist World Order Theory in the sidebar. Sites like WebMD, Nutrition Review and other seemingly "reliable" sites have hosted blogs, articles and editorials by all stripes of quacks, most of whom are happy to push this narrative in order to sell you "negative ion generators" or "negative ion bracelets" or some other brand of this particular snake oil. And the health claims are exactly the kind of unspecific promises on which pseudo-science thrives: more energy, better sex drive, clearing up headaches, the works. Let's start with what a "negative ion" is even supposed to be.
An Ion, as you learned for a test and then promptly forgot in school, is an atom or molecule which is carrying a "charge". This charge is either positive or negative, dependent upon the number of electrons versus the number of protons. More electrons creates a net negative charge, fewer creates a net positive charge. The actual term for a negatively charged ion is an anion. This is a clever dodge by the quacks here. If you google "Negative Ions" you get all their bullshit, in no way hampered by any actual science, because people who know what the fuck they're talking about don't use that phrase. 
Supposedly, these electron discrepancies are the source of "Negative Ion"'s "healing" powers. The only thing Anions should attract are positively charged ions, called cations. This is simple electromagnetism. Negative attracts positive and repels other negatively charge particles. Arguably, you could say that Anions would also "repel" or push out other Anions, but if that's how they work you wouldn't feel any of their numerously claimed benefits. So, unless positively charged Ions, cations, are constantly draining you of energy, causing you pain, making your dick wilt, and are giving you hay fever, then there's no reason for fucking Anions to have any benefit to you.
And I can even prove cations aren't doing that. Coulomb's law bitches! I could try to stumble through a basic explanation, but for the sake of accuracy, let's just cut and paste this next part:
Coulomb's law states that: The magnitude of the electrostatic force of attraction between two point charges is directly proportional to the product of the magnitudes of charges and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. The force is along the straight line joining them.
Short answer, if for some reason, you had a bunch of positively charged cations clogged up in your body, you would be constantly discharging them anyway. You are constantly coming into contact with Anions, they are exceptionally common. You don't need "constantly splashing water", or a "negative ion generator" whatever the fuck that's supposed to do. Oxygen is a goddamn Anion. Fluoride is an Anion. Chloride is an Anion. Cyanide is a goddamn, fucking Anion.
Ions are everywhere.  I mean it, fucking EVERYWHERE. The forming of covalent bonds is the literal building blocks of the entire universe. To somehow suggest that nearly everything in the universe is divided into "neutral atoms", "the good thingys" and the "bad thingys" is fucking infantile nonsense. It's stupid on a level that I can barely comprehend and I once scrolled through Trump's twitter feed for nonsense for another article. If you're having trouble understanding the absolute incoherency of the bullshit here, let me try an example.
Imagine if I told you that all nutrition was categorized in three ways - Solid, Liquid and Jell-O. Now imagine that I also tried to convince you that Liquid was "The Bad One" and tried to sell you a device that turned all liquid food into Jell-O. That's the level of arbitrary crazy we're talking here. The only apparent thing you have to do to convince people to buy your shit is keep the benefits vague and use science-y sounding bullshit like "Negative Ions".
This one was less experimental than some other articles I've written. I didn't cite my sources properly, and I ranted a lot more. That's because I'm starting to think that writing rebuttals and thought experiments is the wrong tact for solving this problem. Maybe you need to already be a trusted quack and then tell people to their face that you simply fooled them and stole their money.
To that end, I'm proud to announce my new product - the Energy Wave Modulator Collar. Simply place it around your neck and let it's natural minerals effortless modulate the alpha waves in your brain and the beta...channels...in your....ehhh, let's say eyes. You'll see results in just a few days, or hours, or weeks. Your headaches will be far less frequent and more manageable. Your energy levels will rise. Your sensation of taste will greatly improve, and everything will smell just slightly like vanilla. You'll gain immunity to bee-stings. Your dick will stay incessantly hard for days at a time. If you don't have a dick your uterus will make friends with you and never hurt ever again out of respect for that one time you came to its birthday party. You will suddenly eat healthier and make better romantic choices. Buy my shit, losers.
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kvtykat · 7 years
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i'm just gonna be an asshole as per usual n say ya gotta do all of them 😊 love ya nerd 💕
1)  already answered
2) what’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?A grudge as far as I’m concerned
3) if your bf or gf was into drugs would you care?Tbh depends on the drugs. Weed nah but other stuff probably
4) is your last name longer than 6 letters?Exactly 6
5) was your last kiss drunk or sober?Sober
6) already answered
7) what does your last received text say?“K.”
8) how many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?Too fucking many
9) where was your last kiss at?Honestly I don’t remember
10) when was the last time you saw your sister?Last night
11) what do you drink in the morning?Protein smoothie, water, or tea
12) where did you sleep last night?In my bed
13) do you think relationships are hard?Sometimes. But its worth it with the right person
14) if you could go back and change something in the last 5 months would you?Yes.
15) you’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed. Any problems?Yep
16) would you rather it be sunny or rainy?Don’t care as long ad its warm
17) do you know anyone with the sane middle name as you?Yeah its not that rare
18) are you wearing jeans, sweatpants, or pajama pants?Pajama pants
19) do you think you’ll be in a relationship 3 years from now?I have no idea
20) does anyone like you?Idk ..
21)have you ever kissed with a name that starts with an s?Don’t think so
22) is the last person you kissed gay?Yes
23) is there a person you CANNOT stand?Yes
24) have you ever considered getting a tattoo?Yes ik what I’m getting already
25) in the past week have you cried?Actually no
26) what breed was the last dog you saw?Pug
27) do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?Usually in
28) have you ever kissed a football player?Sadly yes
29) do you think you’re old?No
30) do you like texting?Yes
31) what type of day are you having?Idk we’ll see…
32) have you thought about getting your nose pierced?Yeah. probably won’t tho
33) do you prefer warm or cold weather?Warm
34) is there a person of the opposite sex that means a lot to you?Yes
35) would you prefer a relationship or a fling?Flings never ended well for me so relationship
36) are you a simple or complicated person?Idk. friends care to weigh in?
37) what song are you listening to?The sound by the 1975
38) when you say you’re sorry do you mean it?Okay this one is important to me. I hate that apologies have become this mindless thing that people do without thinking. to me saying sorry is an important thing. So yes I mean it.
39) is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?Yes
40) what made you start liking the person you like now?Tbh I’m not sure. being around her just feels natural and that’s a really nice feeling.
41) when did you last receive a text? Bout 10:30 last night
42) what’s wrong with you right now?There’s stuff in front of my seat in this car so there’s nowhere to put my feet
43) how well do you know the last female you texted?Well its my mom so…
44) does anyone disgust you?“no why do you ask Mr. president?”
45) would you date someone right now if they asked?Depends on the person
46) are you in a good mood rn?Neutral?
47) who was the last person you talked to in person? my mom
48) what color shirt are you wearing?Red
49) has someone recently told you something you don’t want to hear?Yeah I had to deal with customers last night
50) anyone you’re giving up on? Not that I haven’t already given up on
51) do you hate the person you fell hardest for?No
52) have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?Yes
53) do you like rain?Sometimes
54) do you care if your bf/gf drinks?Not really as long as it doesn’t become a problem
55) have you ever liked someone and never told them?Yes
56) do you like to cuddle?Yeah
57) are you shy?Sometimes but it doesn’t last long
58) do you get along with girls?Most of them
59) have you dated the person you texted last?No
60) what do you carry with you at all times?headphones and my phone
61) if you were paid $1 million to spend the night in a haunted house would you?Yes62) do you think you can last in a relationship for 5 months?Yes63) think back to October. Were you in a relationship?No64) the person you like kisses you on the forehead. Do you find it cute?Depends on circumstances but it usually makes me uncomfortable65) did anything “cute” happen in the last week?Yes66) how old are the last three people you kissed?I’m assuming non platonic? So 18, 17, 15    Note: I’m 17 also that last one was a while ago67) would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself?Depends on the event68) which do you like better zebra or leopard print?Neither69) do you have stickers on your car?I do not have my own car and my parents do not allow stickers so no70) would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or lil Wayne?Neither but probs Lil Wayne71) blackberry, Android, iPhone?Android72) when’s the last time you had pizza from pizza hut?No idea and I’m okay keeping it that way73) do you like diet soda?I don’t drink much soda anymore but diet has never been my choice74) what color are the walls in your room?White75) are you 16 or older?Yes76) do you watch pretty little liars?No77) do you have a job?Yes78) what are your initials?KRB79) did you ever have braces?No I’m supposed to tho lol80) are you from the south?Nope81) what does your last status on Facebook say?I checked in to my kickboxing gym82) do you still talk to the first person you kissed?Fuck no83) are you closer to your mom or your dad?neither84) ever done gymnastics or cheerleading?Gymnastics when I was little85) what’s the last movie you saw in theaters?okay tbh I think it was Birth of a Nation86) do you smoke?No87) would you rather wear heels or flip flops?Probably flip flops88) is your phone touch screen?Yes89) do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?Straight90) have you ever snuck out of your house?I don’t think so91) would you rather swim in a river lake or pool?River probably92) ever made out in a car?Yes93) had sex in a car?No94) single or in a relationship?Single…95) what were you doing last night at midnight?Sleeping96) when’s the last time you saw fireworks?tbh I don’t remember97) do you like the camera on your phone?It could be better98) ever had a friend with benefits?Unfortunately yes99) ever passed out from drinking?No100) are you friends on Facebook with people you actually hate?Maybe. I deleted a bunch a while ago101) ever had a pregnancy scare?Nope. I’m gay.102) fav Kesha song?All of them103) any tan lines rn?Its literally freezing and there is hail falling from the sky. no tan lines.104) would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?Hell no
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