Damocles - Sleep Token

I think Jason is taller than Bruce but because they re-met in their suits, and Batman had a slight heel, Jason didn’t notice. But Bruce did. So now he has a bigger heel.

Dick has noticed but no one else is looking, he just knows because he’s been around B since nearly the beginning. And he is definitely holding that over Bruce’s head.

Bruce partly did it out of assholery but also a little bit of stupid paternal feelings about his baby being all grown up.

Jason still hasn’t noticed because they both wear boots and are still rarely in casual clothes/barefoot around each other.

You like to crochet at night and simon likes to lay his head on your lap while you do so he let's you use his night vision goggles so you can still crochet while he falls asleep on your lap

posessive

Something something Gaz as a soccer scholarship student in his third year at the university you work at. He’s the model student athlete; excelling both on and off the field. He’s already in a frat, accepted by the brothers and happily indulging in the American hedonism that is Greek life. 

He’s undecided in his major, just kind of flitting around until he has enough credits to graduate. He knows he’s smart so he’s on the Dean's List he’s just… bored. 

He was passing by one of the large message boards in the frat house when he sees a flyer for your class. Some foofy English elective focusing on 18th and 19th century British and Irish literature. The descriptions touts a deep dive into some of the most popular novels. He doesn’t pay much attention to the flyer or class again until his advisor tells him he’s a credit short for an English major and he decides that since he’s in for a penny, he’s in for a pound, and adds your class to his schedule. 

When the semester starts up he’s expecting a little old woman to hobble in with skirts trailing down to the floor and gray hair that isn’t much shorter. So imagine his surprise when you walk in; closer to his age than not and fresh out of a PhD program with a beaming smile. You dive into the syllabus with such gusto that it’s impossible for him to not be excited about the course material. 

He also happens to note that he’s the only male in the class- the rest of the chairs taken up by girls that have had English decided as their major since before they were admitted to the school. So it only makes sense that your eye catches him the most, naturally drawn to the confident sprawl he sets himself into when he’s sitting in your seminar.

Gaz enjoys the way you flitter around the room and talk about each book as if the entire meaning to life was filtered away into it’s pages. Suddenly Frakenstein and Pride and Prejudice have new meaning, and he’s flying through Dorian Grey as he sits in the frat house common room with the noise of football playing in the background. He keeps a book with him so during practice he can continue to read, much to his coach’s displeasure. 

He completes all his work on time and is a model student, even going so far as to help the others in class if needed. You see this all from your table in the front, and he sees you seeing him. 

It’s all calculated really; he makes sure to you can see him as he offers his assistance or when he raises his hand to express a point in a simpler way. You’re impressed, and tell him so one day when it’s only the two of you left in the room. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says back to you, brown eyes sparkling. You swore you could see some color dust high on his cheeks. 

So, it came as a surprise when he asked you to cubby away some office hours for him regarding an essay he was having issues with. You had thought that of all your students, Kyle would be the last one to need help. But you agree, and let him know you made time for him on your late day so he could come straight from training. 

He’s military precision punctual and shows up to your office that night covered in a sheen of sweat. You make some comment about letting him know a shower was an important enough reason to be late and he just smiles, eyes crinkling. 

It’s anyone’s guess how you ended up having his tongue halfway down your throat with the door barely shut behind him. 

Well, you could have guessed but it still felt taboo. Sure he was 21 but still, you were in a position of power over him as his professor. And you tell him such as he grips your face in a bruising kiss. He just laughs, moving to grab your legs and plop you down so you’re sitting on your desk with your legs spread wide and open for him. He lets you whine about decency and rules until he’s had enough, and then promptly sticks his face between your legs to shut you up. 

He leaves later that night, wiping his damp face with his already sweat soaked shirt while you hastily readjust the sweater dress you had been wearing. As you round the desk to get your purse you notice that your panties that he had taken off, with his teeth no less, were missing from their hasty hiding place. Heaving a sigh, you fall into your office chair and contemplate a transfer. 

Halfway back to his room, Gaz fiddles with the stolen panties in his pocket, thinking about applying for that summer English internship he saw advertised in your office.

GAZ NEEDS MORE LOVIN EXPRESS NOW CALLING FOR BOARDING!!

He's being domesticated guys

smaller!reader

thinking about how the more time you spend with john (price), the more you notice he's so much like a damn bear.

during winters, the time on leave he gets for christmas is predominantly spent snoring with you tucked under his arm. if you even attempt to get up, price'll groan and whine about how you can sleep in just a few spare minutes with him. once he's finally up and out of the tangle of blankets and sheets, he'll pester you about taking a nap on the living room couch with him.

or how he uses the door frames around the house to sate his constant need to itch his back. pressing the between of his shoulders to the trim, letting out little grunts that sound suspiciously close to a bears huffy growls as he rubs back and forth against the wood.

the man is also a brute. broad shoulders that roll like the hills of moors; a chest that flexes and softens with nearly every breath. when you press your hand to him, your nearly stunned that you two are the same species solely based on how he's built.

but most of all, his forests of hair on nearly every expanse of flesh. the downy fur that adorns his chest, or the dark blankets that wrap around his forearms like armored cuffs.

it's part of his charm, you suppose.

not the bad vibes 😓

tim is so done

i know it's been done many times before, but i just love gross weird creepy awkward simon and his cute harmless bird.

like she's so intrigued by him, so infatuated with this odd man. she giggles at his dark humour and crude jokes, a genuine smile on her face as her shoulders shake from laughing so hard while he's huffing out a sound of amusement of his own. meanwhile, everyone else has an uncomfortable look on their faces, giving them both judgemental stares.

he's the type to tug her close to him and kiss her nasty, uncaring if they're in a public setting. he sucks on her tongue and spits in her mouth, a big hand reaching down to squeeze her ass before disappearing up her skirt. he doesn't really care if others watch or not, and he grips her tight when she tries to escape, swallowing all her squeaky little noises with a satisfied hum.

there's no shame when it comes to him. he lets her know when he's going for a piss and asks if she wants to come, not bothering to close the door (he demands that she leaves it open when she goes too; it's only fair). he uses her hand to jerk himself off when she's busy or not in the mood, heavy groans rumbling from his chest because it feels so much better than rutting into his rough hand—not as lovely as her soft, pretty cunt though. he lets his tongue dip low to lap at her asshole and ignores her whiny protests, promising he'll make her feel good in a second, groaning to himself as she grinds against his face.

ughhh he's just so unusual. sometimes he stares at her too long for it to be considered cute, dark eyes burning into her very soul for so long that she has to remind him to blink. he corners her just to get a whiff of her perfume, heavy breathing down her neck like he's getting worked up just from smelling her.

when he comes home from deployment and tells her about the things that happened while he was away (lost one of my good knives in tha' prick), she's sitting pretty on his lap and chirping out her responses, urging him to tell her more. she says it's good for him to get it off his chest, but really she likes hearing his gruesome stories. it makes her heart flutter that he's so skilled and competent.

others have come up to her asking if she's okay and if she's aware of the weirdo following her, and she's like "yeah that's my man :)" she tries her best to drive them away before he starts sulking over yet another person interrupting their parallel play.

she just really loves how strange and off-putting he is.

Caught a fish

Tip jar

I know most people don't care about anything unless it has to do with the U.S. but can we please start talking about the Canadian election.

Please don't vote for Poilievre. He's basically the Canadian Trump and plans to put in place laws that harm trans youth, and lots of other shit.

Please vote istg this is the only way anything will get better. Poilievre has been kissing millionaires and billionaires asses. He'll make life even harder, and he loves Trump.

Reblogs are appreciated, especially if you aren't Canadian.