#but that is not something we will ever focus on i think... i mean in my level anyway Maybe if i get extra specialized later

[rafecameroninterlude]

kook!reader and jj, in which reader gets jj a job and country club but the other kooks are pretty mean to him :( .

warnings: light flirting, fighting, rafe is jealous you like jj and not him, name calling

“so how are they treating you here?” you took a seat at the bar where jj was making a round of drinks. “how do you think?” he looked up from under the wisps of his hair. “okay, cool it with the sass. i was just asking.” he shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “look, i appreciate you getting me this job and all, but this shit blows,” jj glanced in the corner where rafe and his friends were dowing their beers, “and those assholes are the worst part of it all.” you turned around, rolling your eyes when rafe blew you a kiss.

“they’re so annoying, just ignore them jayj.” you sighed, eyeing the veins on his arms. “at least you look hot in your uniform.” jj pushed one of those fruity drinks you liked in front of you, leaning in as he did so. “you think so?” you hummed, a smile forming on your lips as he trailed his fingers down the side of your wrist. “yeah, i like-” before you could finish your sentence, a familiar, aggravating voice cut you off. “i see you’re still doing charity work for this piece of trash.” rafe took a seat next to you, fully aware of the way jj was glaring at him.

“how about you run back there to the kitchen and get us something to eat like you’re supposed to, pogue.” rafe spat the last word, his lip curling in disgust before landing his focus back on you. “do you always have to be an ass?” you shrugged him off, silently begging jj not to do what you knew he was fully capable of. “getting food isn’t in my job description, moron. i think you’d know that if you actually filled out an application.” jj winked, making rafe scoff. “why would i when we have people like you who need it more than i ever will?”

“rafe get out of here, seriously.” you shooed him, only for jj to intervene. “people like me? people who don’t have to depend on their daddy still?” you sighed when you saw rafe get up, his friends all somehow making their way over in unison. “let’s not do this, please, let’s just go jay.” you adjusted your little purse on your shoulder, motioning for jj to follow you out. “jay? you have a nickname for this loser?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “you know your parents would never approve of this scumbag.” jj reached over the bar, grabbing rafe by the collar of his shirt.

you stepped in front of rafe’s friends before they could team against jj. “and if her parents knew who you really were, they wouldn’t approve of you either. how does it feel knowing y/n will never choose you?” jj smiled. rafe was seeing red at this point. pulling his fist back, rafe swung and landed a punch square on jj’s cheek. the club then broke out into complete chaos. while rafe and jj were full on fighting with nothing but the bar between them, you were pushing rafe’s friends, telling them to let rafe and jj handle their business alone.

“what the hell is going on here?!” the director of the whole place came rushing in, his face beet red as he glared at jj. “just a little falling out, sir. they’re already done.” you flashed him a sweet smile, hoping he could just drop it. “you let go of that cameron boy right now, young man! his father is a very generous patron here,” rafe smirked as jj shoved him away, “and give me that apron, you’re done.” you sighed, shoulders falling in defeat as jj rounded the corner of the bar. this is officially the third job jj has gotten fired from on figure eight.

you followed jj as he balled up the material, chucking it in the director’s chest. “good, this job fuckin’ sucked.” you gasped, apologizing for him as you two walked out of the country club. “what the fuck?!” you stopped him, pulling his shoulder so he could face you. “look, i’m gonna do my own thing on the cut, and get money how i want to, alright? this shit isn’t for me. if you want to be mad at me for how i reacted towards rafe, fine, but i’m done with figure eight.” you watched him get on his dirt bike, pinching the bridge of your nose as he rode through the flowers.

#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #my first jj maybank post on here!! #leave jj requests <3 #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #outer banks smut #outer banks fanfiction

[ms-cartoon]

So, I'm looking at the trailer and hear Stolas say something like this . . .

"This transaction between us . . . i-it's not right anymore. I just want someone to care for."

I'm gonna assume he's talking about the exchange of the grimoire for sex with Blitzo. The deal that HE made in the first place????

Okay, first off- What do you mean, it's not right anymore?? NOT ONCE has it EVER been right! Making someone satisfy your pleasures in exchange for giving them something that's impossible to have and you never intended on giving them in the first place unless it benefits you somehow. That is called EXPLOITATION! Children . . . exploiting someone is NEVER a good thing! No matter how badly you want something to happen, it's never good to make someone do something against their will, and Stolas NEVER considered this! And even if he did, I doubt he would've cared!

Why is he suddenly caring now?

Because this is just another way for Viv to throw another Stolas pity party and she needs some kind of tension between Stolas and Blitzo so that their relationship can feel earned later. I think I have a pretty good feeling on what they're gonna make season two about.

This is gonna turn back into the "Stolitzo show" where we focus on the supposed "romance" between Stolas and Blitzo. How are they gonna go about it? Well, I think what's gonna go down is, instead of Stolas being in the wrong for how he treats Blitzo, they're gonna make the latter the bad guy for how he "treats" Stolas. Because blah blah blah, Blitzo doesn't love Stolas back, blah blah he's not considerate of Stolas's feelings for him, blah blah he's being mean, blah blah, he needs to give Stolas a chance. And at the end of the day, Blitzo is gonna feel all sorry and realize he loves Stolas, he apologizes to Stolas, the two are endgame and they live happily ever after! I'm calling it right now! With the way Stolas said what he said above, he's gonna make it seem like he's trying to reason with Blitzo saying the deal for the book is a bad idea as if HE wasn't the one that called Blitzo that one night and made that deal.

Do Viv or the writers ever THINK before writing these down??

Rhetorical quetion.

Edit (4/29/24) It makes no sense for Stolas to suddenly feel regret for this exchange as well as his feelings for Blitzo because of it. In season 1 he went from "Oh Blitzy! You're so hot! Let's have sex!" to "I'm actually genuinely in love with you Blitzo. Let's not do this anymore. I want to take this seriously." Out of nowhere.

Like-- In episode 6, he was lustful for Blitzo and made out with him by the end of the ep, and then suddenly the next episode, he's feeling all lonely and is innocently having feelings for Blitzo. WHERE DID ALL THAT COME FROM?? There was no ounce of development within those episodes!

#helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss #helluva boss critical #anti helluva boss #vivziepop critical #critique #anti stolitz #stolitz #anti stolas #stolas is a terrible character and you can't convince me otherwise #Stolitzo is also a terrible ship and you still can't convince me #I'm not looking forward to this coming up season at all #you can fight me on this #but I'm not gonna listen so don't bother lol

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello dearest kitty, I'm here begging on my knees for some fluff

Okay okay I'll stop, but it was a funny start especially after your least post, but I really love your writing and I would love to see you write some sub villain X dom hero fluff, about self care and maybe a little bit on self harm cuz I have exams and this is my comfort trope.

But regardless if you write it or not I want you to know that I really appreciate all your work and I it makes such a huge difference in my life, you're one of the people I can look at and be happy 😁💖

tw mention of self-harm

“This is…nice.” The villain frowned and hugged their own legs, almost as if they had never been in a bathtub before. Still tired, they leaned against the tiles of the bathroom wall. All the hero could focus on were their lashes when they closed their eyes.

Admittedly, the hero hadn’t considered this to be the result. They hadn’t expected to end up in bed with their nemesis. It would have been easier if this was part of a mission, they reckoned. But fate was much crueler.

Now feelings were involved. Complicated, difficult feelings. Sometimes they didn’t know if they should blame themselves or the villain. After all, the villain was devoted and passionate. They were tactical and brilliant.

And they were also pretty. Ridiculously pretty.

The hero swallowed.

Why was this happening to them out of all people?

“I don’t think anyone has ever made that kind of effort for me,” the villain said. They smiled and the hero’s heart dropped.

“You mean letting in some water?”

“Well, yeah…and the breakfast. The soft kisses. The massages, you know?” The villain looked at the hero again. “No one has ever done that for me.”

For the hero’s taste, they were too far away from each other. Even though the bathtub wasn’t the biggest, the hero didn’t want to sit on opposite ends. They worried their bottom lip between their teeth.

“Can you come closer?” they asked and the villain nodded, obeying quickly.

The hero let out a shaky breath they didn’t even know they were holding once the villain sat down on their hips. At this point, it was like a drug. The hero craved this affection and these hands on their skin.

It wasn’t just pleasure, it was something more vile. Something that could bleed and die, something that could destroy the hero within seconds.

A few hours ago, they hadn’t realised it. Not really. But now that they knew they weren’t just attracted to the villain, they needed to control themselves.

“You know you deserve it, right?” they asked. The villain didn’t meet their eyes, though. “You deserve nice things.”

“Is this a separating-work-and-personal-life-thing? Because we both know I’ve done despicable things in the past.” The villain looked ashamed. They let their thumb run along the hero’s biceps, almost as if they could distract themselves that way.

“No. I like you the way you are. Even the parts you deem ugly.” The hero touched the scars the villain had tried to hide yesterday gently. They couldn’t stop looking at their nemesis. At their perfect face, their perfect body. The hero wasn’t sure why their melancholy was taking over the now.

Yesterday, they’d been laughing and kissing. They’d never had that much fun in quite a while. But now, responsibility weighed heavy on their shoulders again and they couldn’t bear the feeling of saying goodbye in a few hours.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Have I ever been dishonest with you?” the hero asked. Brilliance wasn’t a gift. It was the result of hard work and the hero could appreciate and respect that the villain had been working just as much as they had. Both were the same in that aspect, destroying themselves because that seemed to be logical: working until you had results. No failing, no mistakes. 100%. All the time.

The villain smiled softly. Maybe even sadly.

“When you told me you love me yesterday?” they asked quietly but the hero already shook their head.

“No, that wasn’t a lie.” Their finger traced one of the villain’s scars. Somehow, the bathwater was getting hotter and hotter. The hero closed their eyes as they tried to calm down. “You’re lovely.”

It was only natural, wasn’t it? To be attracted to someone who challenged, yet matched them in so many ways? God, the hero was really at the end of their rope.

“Hm. You know, under all these layers—” the villain touched their chest “—of calculated and raw reason—” they drew a heart with their finger into the hero’s skin “—there’s a very gentle soul inside you.”

“Is that criticism or a compliment?” the hero asked. Again, looking at the villain made their stomach turn. In a good way. Kind of.

Their nemesis smiled.

“Just an observation,” the villain said. They leaned forward and kissed the hero’s cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me. I kinda suck at it.”

The hero’s hand was still on the villain’s scars.

“You just need a little bit of help, that’s all. Everyone does.” The villain was still so close. If the hero moved their head a little, they’d be kissing.

Hell, why was their heart beating so fast?

“Do you think I could be better?” the villain asked. “Do you think I could change?”

“Change is inevitable,” the hero explained. “But I…I got you.”

They held onto the villain a little tighter this time and honestly, they knew why their heart ached when they brought them home.

#I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins spotlight on me and I’m ready to break #writing snippet #hero x villain snippet #hero x villain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask #tw: sh #suggestive #fluff #obsessed hero

[raapija]

hi! as a prompt for pookie au (which i love), how do you think carlos would react to finding out his dad is dating LANCE of all people? would he be immediately freaking out or would he hold it in and rant to charles about it later?

Thank you for the prompt. <3

(Carlos and Charles hadn't yet met, as this is set in 2018.)

summary: Lance talks with Carlos for the first time after Lance and Fernando told him they were dating. Also some strollonso fluff to balance it out.

warnings: some swearing, Carlos being extremely mean to Lance

Lance fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He could feel his ears burning as Carlos stared at him from the other side of the patio table. The cool evening air made his skin tingle.

"Why?" he heard Carlos ask after what had felt like 15 minutes of silence. Lance had sat down with him after having dinner with Fernando. It was the first time they told Carlos that they were together. Lando or Oscar probably would've blurted it out at some point, but it was definitely easier to tell him like this.

"What?" Lance asked for him to clarify what exactly he meant by 'why?.' He couldn't really look at Carlos, because he knew he was staring daggers back at him. They had been racing together for years, but had never really became friends or spent time together. Carlos was also a couple years older than him and had always been kind of intimidating to Lance. Something about those dark brown eyes.

"Why my dad? Of all people, why him?" Carlos continued his questioning. Now Lance looked at him and his heart skipped a few beats as he saw the expression on Carlos' face. Contempt.

"I love him."

Carlos scoffed and Lance felt something inside him shift. He straightened in his seat and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to give in.

"Listen," he started. "I really do like him. I know it's fucking weird that he's older and you're older than me, but so what? We like each other. It's not just some fling. He's done a lot for me and I for him. I love him."

Carlos studied him from across the table. The longer he didn't say anything, the faster Lance's heart beat. Adrenaline rushing in his veins as if he was on a race track, trying to overtake him at a high-speed corner. In the end, it was Carlos who averted his eyes to look away.

"If you break his heart, I'll kill you." Carlos said and Lance breathed out. His face was serious. "I've seen what it's like for him, and I don't want to see that again, ever. So don't you dare."

"I won't hurt him. I promise." Lance said and Carlos' eyes moved back to focus on him.

"You promise?" he chuckled, now sounding condescending. "That's what the last guy said as well. And then he left him."

Lance's heart was about to burst out of his chest. Maybe he couldn't overtake in the corner and instead would crash into the wall.

"My dad gave everything to me. He gave me a chance when no one else would. He doesn't deserve you. He's got all he needs in me and my brothers. He loves us. Not you. " Carlos said, his words cutting right through Lance like little knives. It made his throat turn dry. "You understand?"

"I do." Lance got out. Carlos' chair dragged painfully on the tile flooring of the patio when he stood up to leave. As he walked past Lance, he gave him a strong pat on the shoulder and made Lance flinch. Crashed, in the wall. Game over.

"I'll be watching you." Carlos said and then stepped back into the house, leaving him alone. Lance breathed out and a flood of emotions ran through him as he relaxed. He was 20. Just barely got into F1 and immediately started dating a 37 year-old with three grown kids. This really did sound like some sort of a breakdown if you looked at it from the outside. Still, he was glad the only person at his throat was Carlos and not the media. Only a few people knew, and that was for the best. He had enough on his plate as a 'pay-driver'.

¬

Later that night, Lance was laying in bed, deep under the covers and waiting for Fernando to join him. He had been in this bed countless times before, but the idea of Carlos lurking somewhere in the same house made him uneasy.

He could finally hear Fernando's familiar footsteps climbing up the staircase to the second floor where the bedroom was. As soon as he stepped into the room, Lance's mind stopped racing.

"You okay?" the Spaniard asked as he sat down on the other side of the bed from Lance. He must've sensed Lance's anxiety all the way from downstairs.

"Yeah. Talked to Carlos." Lance said and turned onto his side so he could see Fernando better. The older man laid his watch and jewelry from his wrists on the bedside table and the slid under the covers. They were both facing each other and Lance scooted a little closed so Fernando could wrap an arm around him.

"How it go? Not too scary, I hope." Fernando's voice was soothing and Lance settled against his chest, warm skin touching his forehead. He felt Fernando press little kisses into his hair on the top of his head.

"He only threatened to kill me, so not that bad." Lance said and Fernando laughed. Him laughing made it feel a bit better, like he wasn't actually going to get beat up if he made one mistake.

"That's my Carlito." Fernando hummed and squeezed Lance a little closer to him, slowly running his hand up and down his back. "Don't worry about him. He likes to pretend he's tougher than he is."

"He told me someone broke your heart before so he didn't want me to repeat that." Lance said and Fernando's hand stopped moving.

Lance heard a quiet 'oh...' and wriggled back a bit to look at him. Fernando's eyes were sad. Lance didn't like that.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no." Fernando hurried to stop him from apologizing. He moved his hand up and set it on Lance's cheek. "That's nothing. History. I got you now, so it's okay."

"Yeah?" Lance asked and Fernando gently tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear. The Spaniard smiled at him, his eyes back to normal and happy. The things Carlos had said still irked at the back of Lance's brain, but he didn't press on it.

"You fix me." Fernando said and moved in to kiss Lance on the forehead. He then pulled him close again and held his arm tight around him. "I talk with Carlito tomorrow. Tell him to be nice to you."

Lance hummed and could already feel himself falling asleep. It felt so safe with Fernando. Strong arms holding onto him and his warmth transferring into him. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

#ask #short fic #pookie au #nando and his mcnuggets #strollonso #hope you like this 🤧💚

[xzhdjsj]

By Your Side

Isaac x Reader

Isaac comforts you

Reader is on their period and is frustrated with work.

Anyone ever had cramps so damn bad it made you throw up? Cuz that was me last week and istg i was gonna die

Also this was supposed to be entirely fluff but idk what happened and now we have this😭 It all works out in the end though!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It's been a day since then, and as you’d expected you feel no better. It'd take a miracle for that to happen anyways. Periods are horrible, it makes your mood sour and your body ache. Not to mention it's annoying and a hindrance to your work. That doesn't mean that Isaac lacks understanding and thinks it a hindrance too, quite the opposite actually. Isaac insists you don't lift a finger if you're not feeling well, and if you do, he's always close to keep an eye on you.

And there it is again, that discomfort in your lower abdomen and back, a tell-tale sign that your period was on its merry way to ruin your week. With a hand across your stomach, you quickly tapped your phone, checking the date. Who knew a month of cramp-free frolicking would be over that quickly. You mentally curse yourself for not keeping track again and head off to the bathroom.

Though, that doesn't always translate well in your mind.

You sat opposite him in his office, hovering over a document you've read at least 10 times but still can't seem to grasp. Each time you feel like you understood, you realise your mind had wondered off in the middle of it or you got distracted by the throbbing pain in your lower abdomen.

Isaac's gaze would find you every minute or so. He'd flip a page, then look up. Or he'd type a sentence and glace at you before continuing. It was his little system of ensuring you weren't struggling.

This time his eyes find you in a frantic state. You let out a deep sigh, flipping the page over to start reading from the top all over again. The frustration was evident, knitted in your eyebrows and the frown on your face. Your eyes were unfocused, and you kept shifting your body every few minutes.

"Are you okay?" Isaac broke the silence.

"What?" You look up at him confused by his sudden question, and a little annoyed your focus was once again broken.

"I asked if you were okay."

You rubbed the side of your neck and sigh.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." You dismiss him, returning to the words on the page in front of you. Adamant to get it right this time.

"Are you really? You look a tired Pickle." His voice knocks your focus again.

"I'm fine Isaac." You tell him again. this time sternly.

"Are you sur-"

Your fingers massage the bridge of your nose, and your patience runs thin.

"God Isaac, I said I'm fine! I'm perfectly capable of working right now! It's literally just a period, I'm not bed ridden or something!" The words pour from your lips before you could think them through and instantly, you regret it.

"Right, I'm sorry dear. I was just worried." He's a little surprised, had you looked at him while speaking you'd see the way his eyes reflected it.

To be honest, you’re a little surprised at yourself too, but all you could think of right now was how the FUCK do you respond to that? You open your mouth to say something, anything really, but when you finally looked over at him, he's already shifted his focus to the screen in front of him. There isn't a single thing you could think of to say to him anyways.

You bend your head again, looking at the page you deemed so important earlier. Now it was just insignificant, and part of the reason for your outburst.

'How foolish' you thought to yourself, getting upset at him for showing concern over a matter he had little experience with. And despite his inexperience, he was only trying to help. It wasn't like you got any work done in the 30? 45 minutes? an hour? you were sat here. That only meant that he was right, you were clearly having a difficult time and he was observant enough to had noticed it.

The regret crashes into your chest like a tsunami. You wondered how he was feeling right now. You were considerably rude, surely that would hurt him. What if that gave him the impression that he was annoying? Because he most certainly was not! What have you done?

The thoughts swirled around your head like a brewing storm, threatening to explode at any moment. It didn't help that various parts of your body were still in pain and the only sound in the room was papers being shuffled and the clicking sounds of his keyboard. The pain gnawed at your flesh and the silence burgeoned your thoughts. There’s a lump in your throat and you’re not quite sure if you need to throw up from the pain or cry your eyes out. It was only when a single teardrop dripped onto the page below you that you realised you didn't want to be in the room anymore. You swiftly lifted your body from the chair and Isaac looked over at you right away. You couldn't return the notion; the bubbling pot of shame and regret wouldn’t let you.

"I uh,” your voice cracked and you're still unsure of what to say. "Excuse me."

You quickly push past the desk, rushing out the door. You were able to hold yourself together in front of him, but once outside, your emotions came tumbling over. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks, and you ran up the stairs to your room.

You threw yourself onto the sheets, your face buried into a pillow as your body folded into itself like an armadillo. It hurts so much. Your body, your mind, it all hurts. You sobbed into the pillow, squeezing it tightly against your chest for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, there was a gentle knock on the door, then a soft call of your name as the door slowly swung open. You didn't hesitate, discarding the pillow quickly to sit up and voice your scrabbled thoughts.

"Isaac I'm so sorry! I- I didn't mean to yell at you- I know you were just concerned and I should’ve listened to you when you said I could rest for today-"

He takes big steps towards the bed, immediately taking you in his arms.

"Shhhhh, calm down my love. It's okay."

You're gripping onto his shirt for dear life, sobbing into his chest but he doesn't care, he pulls you even closer engulfing you fully into his body. His arms were secure and protective around you as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. His voice is so gentle and soothing, and when combined with his hand caressing up and down your back, your choked sobs were simmered down to deep breathing in no time.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks and you nod.

"I'm sorry I was so rude to you." You were barely able to murmur.

"Are you still worried about that? I won't lie, I was taken by surprise but only because this has never happened to me before. I know you aren't feeling your best today, so I understand why it happened." He explained, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead. "Now, are you in any pain?"

You sigh, "Yeah, I think my cramps are extra bad this time."

"Do you want me to get you something to eat? Maybe I could make you some tea and I'll get you some painkillers."

"No!" You suddenly move and the pain stabs you sharply in your side. "Ah shit!"

"Careful, Pickle" Isaac helps you, guiding your body down onto the bed. "I'll go get you those pills, hold on for me okay?"

"Isaac, can't you just stay? Please?"

"I'll be back before you know it, just stay here for a couple minutes. You’re very strong, I’m sure you can handle just that right?"

He disappears out the door, but as promised, returns after a few minutes.

"This is all I could find." He presented a single pill to you with a glass of water. "I'll need to make sure we get some more and find other alternatives to help you. I've read that heating pads are very common, so I ordered you one."

You take the pill from his hand, washing it down with some water.

"When did you do all that?"

"Just now, before I came up here."

"So, I yelled at you and you were researching and ordering a heating pad for me? Now, I feel even more awful!" You body falls back down onto the bed.

"Don't. It happens to the best of us, I'm well aware frustration isn't easy to handle." He casually spoke while getting into bed next to you. He reached for the blanket while you nuzzled closer to him, pulling it over your bodies.

“Am I disturbing your work?” You ask.

“No, it can wait.” He was quick to dismiss the idea of work. “I was thinking, what should I make you for dinner?”

He rubs circles in your back, from top to bottom. The warmth from his hands and the effects on the painkillers relaxed your body and made your eyelids heavy.

“You’re gonna cook for me?” You yawn.

“What? Is my cooking not good?” He teased playfully.

You giggle at his response. “Hmm of course not, I love your food. But I don’t know, hmmm how about mashed potatoes?”

“Just mashed potatoes?”

“Yeah, that’s all I want.”

“Sounds easy enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “You should get some rest now.”

“You’ll stay with me, right?” You yawn again.

“Of course my love, and when you open your eyes again, I promise I’ll still be here.”

His gentle hand against your back, and comforting scent made your body heavy and lulled you to sleep in no time. You dreamt of him, and when you woke up again, he was still there with you, eyes closed and mellow breathing as he slept.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #isaac #isaac rhoades #zsakuva isaac #isaac x reader

[astarionfixation]

Chapter 11: +I am not a glass doll+

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: EXPLICIT ROUGH SEX (intercourse PIV)

CW: Blood, Sex

Word count count: 1.9k

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/140917522

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

SUMMARY: In this chapter we simply finish the sex marathon we started 3 chapters ago -to jog your memory, she's on top, for the first time ever- Cause I imagine Pacing is of the essence for someone who's been around over two centuries like Astarion. If we had caring cuddly Astarion in the previous two chapters let's just say things get a fair bit rougher here... consider this your content warning for serious Rough stuff.

He has to close his eyes because, if along with the sensations her swaying hips are eliciting from his cock -strangled within her velvety warmth-, he also lets the vision of her soft, perfect body reach him, as it makes languid, serpentine circuits with her back arched and breast exposed as she impales herself repeatedly over him, that alone might make him come undone.

Her movements are excruciatingly slow, as if every inch of him has to be felt and pressed upon, as if her centre is gauging every sensitive spot on his cock and after a moment of attentive reactions she keeps learning and repeating exactly those that are driving him the most insane with pleasure.

His hands still gripping on her hips, though without any pressure or conviction, only to have his fingers full with the grasp of her softness.

*there’s absolutely nothing I can teach her…*

His head rolls back and he doesn’t even realise he must have arched his back enough so that now he hits a new, deeper spot inside of her and a louder gasp breaks through her throat as her movements halt with his cock completely buried inside of her. His eyes shoot open to find her biting her lip.

“Are you alright? Just… let me stay still for a moment… get used to me… we don’t need to ru–”

The words die in his throat with a groan ending his sentence as her hips have resumed their undulation, slow yet hitting harder and deeper every time she presses herself flush against his crotch.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She breathes every word as her rhythm remains unaffected. She suddenly lets him pull out almost completely and his instincts have his fingers dig deeper in her hips to keep her close

“No… please.. I was… just worried… about you”

“Stop worrying about me Astarion, I’m not a glass doll”

There is something incredibly enticing about the way she chose her words, though before he can spend any longer on them, her entire body is overhanging above him. Her hands reach to the headboard of the bed as she’s got him completely trapped between herself and the mattress beneath him. Her soft, perfumed locks caressing his shoulders are the last thing he registers as suddenly this new angle makes a scream of pleasure escape his lips. Though her own lips capture his immediately and now both their moans are just filling each other’s mouths.

This is a new kind of kiss, ravenous, she’s not just kissing him she is…

*biting!*

Her teeth are pulling at his bottom lip and yet in a flash her tongue is pressing harder against his own. Teeth clashing against his and for a moment he still tries to focus on covering his own fangs with his lips for fear of hurting her. But that’s when her words resonate and unlock something in his body

+I am not a glass doll+

A hand quickly moves across her back to press at the nape of her neck, pulling her closer still, the other one reaching for the small of her back as his own hips arch against hers, his cock buried deep inside of her, reaching surely an impossible depth for a human. He might think about how sore this will make her feel later but those thoughts have all but left his mind, finally beautifully empty for once, and all he knows is what his body feels.

Her incredibly tight cunt throttling every inch, every spot, of his insanely hard cock, every beat of her pulse reverberating around it and rippling across his crotch and dispersing around his body. 

Her thighs locking his hips in place, pressing harder and harder against his bones and a fleeting thought carrying the desire to hear himself crunch, crushed by her grip, almost tips him over the edge.

Her teeth biting down on his lips without restrain as her kiss gets rougher against his mouth and her hips movements are beginning to match that raw need until she angles herself just right and another moan makes him almost roll his head back. When he does, her teeth don't relent and that's when her bite on his lip finally draws blood.

As the metallic flavour hits his senses everything turns to a blur. The pressure around his cock drives him mad and in a split second he’s grabbed her arms and reversed their positions, flipping her on her back as his hips now pound into her impossibly wet and engorged sex. Her measured slow movements are forgotten, replaced by sudden, hard thrusts that make him want to go deeper, and deeper until there’s nothing left of her to discover, to feel, to taste.

One hand grabs at her wrists and pins them above her head, holding them in place in a rock hard grip, as the other reaches to her thigh, pulling her leg up to curl around his own waist

*Deeper… deeper… deeper*

Her sighs and moans have left room to screams and heaving, and he can tell her own hips are trying to meet his thrusts best as she can in this position. He arches his back so that his mouth can devour hers again and this time there’s nothing resembling concern about his fangs, as they go directly to graze at her lip, nipping just enough to draw her own blood now wetting his lips

*We’re even now, you minx!*

His mouth latches onto her lower lip, sucking on it to draw more of her ambrosia as his hips keep pounding into her relentlessly. Even as little of her blood as this scratch allows him to take in is sending his entire body into a frenzy. His movements scattered and impossibly fast, thrusting in and out of her swollen cunt and he only realises how far he’s taken things when suddenly he feels her clenching around him, the feeling almost as if his own cock is to be strangled and torn apart from his body. The leg draped around his hips pressing into his backside as to pulling him closer *deeper* inside of her whilst her entire body convulses in spasm. Their lips separate only because, in a jolt of pleasure, her head rolls back letting out his name in a scream. 

With his mouth now on her neck, he can’t even remember that’s exactly the spot he fed from just hours before, but the freshness of the wound must be what pokes at his instinct when in a moment his fangs tear at it as his mouth captures her pierced skin and finally he can swallow mouthfuls of the heavenly liquid she carries in her veins.

The flavour of her coating his tongue, just as the spasms of her climax still choke his cock, are the last thing he can grasp onto with any lucidity as his eyes roll in the back of his skull. He’s senselessly thrusting harder and harder into her that if any semblance of reason had been left in his brain he’d know he’s bruising her, but no notion other than chasing that absolutely idyllic promise of untainted pleasure is driving his rough motions now. 

He can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge as the random clenching from her last climactic twitches are tantalising his cock. His fangs instinctively pressing harder onto her flesh as to getting still *deeper* into her is the only vagrancy he can still follow, in every direction, be it flesh or sex.

His focus is such that it’s not until the tip of her tongue barely caresses the outer shell of his pointy ear that he realises she’s back in control of her movements after her climax. The feeling of her soft bite on his earlobe a moment later, on such a sensitive part of his body, is the gate to perdition and with a final thrust he pushes everything he has into her. A white light explodes in his mind as his own orgasm takes control of every jolt and involuntary reaction of his pale, tensed body.

Sparks are inundating his vision and his physical brain, some ecstatic and some as if pure radiant damage is dispersing across his every thought. Any flash and image that ever existed in his mind is simply flooded with the bright, gleaming pleasure that began in his cock and is now dispersing across his skin through the entirety of his body. His hips pressing flush against hers buried as deep as her fragile form allows, an animal marking his territory with his own seed filling her insides.

His skin still tingles from the aftermath of his pleasure when his brain slowly sinks back into his body and feels hers pressed against his as his mouth is still full of her blood springing from her neck

His lips keep latched onto her still, though his blood drawing has stopped, his tongue freely caressing her skin and gently soothing the wound in an attempt to close it again.

Every shallow exhale that leaves her lips still carries a soft moan. As he leaves a kiss on the closed punctures and moves to his elbows to leave her space to breathe he realises his hand is still holding her wrists down in a rock hard grip so tense he almost can't feel his own fingers. 

He drops his grasp and his fingertips go to caress her forehead, her cheeks, swiping her hair aside. 

“You were definitely worth the wait, my sweet… you are perfect… are you alright? Was that… too much?”

With her hands free he feels her fingers run through his own hair now, a soft hum resonating through her chest as her swollen lips, still crimson tinted, pull into a smile, her head shakes slightly before she gently speaks

“Definitely not… I don't think I could ever have enough of you… but now I know my dreams never did you any justice…”

At that he can feel the corner of his own lips pulling, the delicious stinging of his lower lip a delightful reminder of how savage her desire for him was, and that settles his mind upon the only sensation her lovely expression brings to him: bliss.

After placing a soft kiss on her lips he slowly pulls his softening cock out and a unique kind of satisfaction fills him as her body still twitches, a soft sigh exhaled with what sounds like quiet laughter, and as he rolls on his back he pulls her to his chest and he can feel immediately her arm circling to reach his shoulder, her naked leg draping possessively over his.

“You’ll have to tell me more about those dreams my darling… after all… there's nothing you desire that I'm not willing to give…”

His voice leaves the question hanging suggestively and he feels her face pressing, hiding against his chest so that the arm circling her pulls her closer as a soft laugh resonates from his lips. Her soft murmurs let him know he's not going to get that answer now as the tip of her cold nose is now pressed against his own unusually warmer skin. Her breathing is regular and slowing enough that the rhythm lulls his own senses into actual, restful, sleep.

For the first time in his entire existence.

#astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #ao3 fanfic #astarion x tav #bg 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #bg 3 fanfic #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion smut #bg3 #baldur's gate smut #tav x astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #bg3 smut #astarion romance #astarion pov #soft dom #soft dom astarion #dom astarion

[umbrellacam]

*steeples fingers and stares at my tablet with gimlet eyes*

so. Road to NML. You mean to tell me that the reason the rest of the country, Congress, and the President himself decided to write Gotham off, blow the bridges, and isolate everyone left - all criminals and asylum lunatics and 'undesirables', of course - was in large part due to *checks notes* a satanic rock star's unnatural, irresistible charisma and cult-like media manipulations aimed at dooming the city for his own benefit?

and that in order to find out what actually happens to this villain, who disappears from the Batman and 'Tec storylines...I'd have to *checks notes* read Azrael's event issues?

....yeah, PASS. I only included JPV's book on my reading list when I absolutely had to (*cough* whenever Cass pops up *cough*), so it's off to the wiki summaries for me!

...but okay, on the one hand I find it very funny how thoroughly fandom has excised this demonic media influencer aspect from the collective consciousness of NML - or at least it had never made its way to me via either fic or fandom posts. I know how few people read comics in general in this fandom, and even for those who do, NML is a Beast that only a percentage have tackled (see: me just starting to pick away at it!), so honestly it's not that surprising.

and like it can easily be left out of the story and still leave it coherent lmao!! One can certainly argue things are in fact neater that way; certainly it's not something that would ever be kept (or at least not in the same form) if NML were adapted to another medium, except as perhaps a normal media demagogue (or a montage of them).

but on the other hand...hmm. Thinking about Hurricane Katrina hitting all of six years after the NML storyline played out. And the debate over whether funds should be used for reconstructing New Orleans and other massively damaged areas. And people around the country wondering if New Orleans would or should be rebuilt at all. Or if a vibrant, historic city would just be basically wiped off the map.

I know this is a conversation that happens everywhere and every time a major disaster wrecks a city. There are always huge fights over disaster aid and funding allocations of any kind.

but man. It's something to see this fictionalized depiction in such close proximity to a real life disaster that paralleled it so strongly, and to know that - yes, there are always people who Do Not Abandon Their Homes and work to reclaim them. Yes, massive amounts of aid (federal and otherwise) and federal reconstruction funding did get dispensed. Yes, people cared, and yes, we rebuilt.

so...maybe we do actually need the demonic social media influencer's evil powers in order to comic book logic explain how everyone in the country turned their backs on Gotham and created No Man's Land.

like - no, it's not necessary. the narrative would work without it. and yet...

the premise imagines - requires? - a significantly more callous, selfish populace. Still plausible and compelling! Possibly even stronger as a story since the turnaround for No Man's Land still hinges on winning the country over to open Gotham back up, let aid in, and rebuild. But. You do have to start from - kind of a bleaker take on humanity?

it also kind of reminds me of what scintillyyy pointed out a few weeks ago about Dick killing the Joker, and how actually there's an important comic book superpower interaction going on there, too, with Rancor present massively amplifying Dick's hate and anger to push him over the edge.

but so few people ever notice or remember that and it certainly isn't one of those things that gets transmitted via fandom osmosis. (It was news to me!!) People focus on Dick breaking down and letting loose solely due to being pushed too far.

and that's extremely compelling on its own! It is! Just like the no-satanic-Nick-Scratch NML.

just thinking about fandom's tendency to ellide the supernatural or powered influences that are canonically affecting a situation, in order to explore/focus on more purely humanistic explanations or motivations...that actually end up being darker than what we might reasonably expect from real life, or from a character's typical values.

like it's part wanting to brush off comic book nonsense, part wanting to dive into gritty realism (that's not always realistic), part not having all the information because of learning things secondhand so you construct the most reasonable explanation...idk it's just interesting.

anyway.

more importantly: Dick and Tim are adorable in 'Tec 727-729!! Especially love them trading off yelling each other's names in fear/alarm, and also trading off protecting each other - Dick's "You hurt that kid and you're gonna be eating through a tube!" and Tim's clever solo rescue of a thoroughly captive Dick via clever use of a voice modulator and a two-way radio. The Boys 😊

#Cam reads comics #hopscotching around between different time periods because violent FOMO yearning for different eras and interactions always strikes #Cam posts

[coconutredbulllover]

to everyone who has commented on the situation with paige and azzi id just like to say something

fans/people who actually have no clue and just know it happened and thats all don’t exactly feel the same empathy for the situation at the extent they would if they did know more, its a fact, people cant feel as bad for something if they dont know exactly what they’re feeling bad for. of course you can still feel extremely bad, a horrible and unforgivable thing happened but until you know what your actually feeling bad for its more like giving sympathy and condolences to a wall thats made of glass but its like the blurry type glass you cant really see through.

i dont reallt know if that made any sense but im basically trying to say that people who dont know and arent being informed since many people are staying silent in order to prevent spreading it, are like people who got told their dog went to a butterfly farm instead of being told it died. its like they were told a much much softer version of the real thing.

im not sure who or to what extent everyone on tumblr really knows about whats actually out there, but i just want ppl who only know the jist or general idea of what happened and even those who think they know or have seen all or most of it to know that it was actually alot that happened and the volume and extent of what happened was a really sickening thing to ever be informed of.

its insane paige was abt to come onto social media after just a weekend and be active, if you knew what i know then you would agree with me when i say paige is 100% only back on media rn to try and move peoples eyes past it and for pr reasons because thats whats best for the situation. she was most definitely not back after only a weekend ready to return to media just for the fun of it. they both are surrounded by a strong support system and while they may be smiling in the snippet of their lives we get to see, just know that putting up a strong front does not mean everything is okay and if u consider the extent of what happened it would be obvious that many signs point to them being very much not okay and that’s perfectly fine! they need time to heal from it and its not something you get over in a week. doing and feeling better doesnt mean actually being completely okay either healing takes time.

thank God its offseason and there isnt an actual full media spotlight on them right now, with how fast social media goes it likely wont be really talked about as a main focus in just a few weeks and its thankfully already starting to die down in just 1. i hope by the time the new season starts they feel alot better and the months will give them time to move past/through it and the world time to not remember or be focused on it.

im putting this on tumblr specifically because it is more of a hidden site compared to yk tiktok or twitter and likely wont spread anywhere crazy esp bc im keeping it low on actual details

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi

[serickswrites]

Come With Me V

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: mayhem, destruction, emotional manipulation, poisoning, self sacrifice, mcd, hurt/no comfort

Villain was silent apart from the coughing spells that became more and more frequent as Hero sped through City. Several times Hero found themself opening their mouth to say something, but closing it as they thought the better of it. Where do they even begin?

Hero was saved from having to say anything as they pulled into the secret driveway that led to Base. "Let me lead, Villain. You're in no shape to fight."

Villain opened their mouth to protest, but a cough cut them off. "That's my point. You just focus on finding the antidote and I'll focus on disabling Superhero."

Villain nodded. They handed Hero a communicator. "Call me if you need my help."

Hero pocketed the communicator knowing full well they wouldn't call Villain. Villain was poisoned because of them. "Villain, listen, I--"

Villain smiled as they started off toward the research center. "Save it. If....If you want to talk after everything is over, I'll be all ears. But none of this," they waffled their hand around, "words said out of desperation. We can talk after."

Hero nodded and sprinted off to where they suspected Superhero would be waiting. "Took you long enough," Superhero growled as they loosed a fire ball at Hero's head as Hero rounded the corner to Superhero's office.

Hero had just enough time to jump back. "What the fuck?"

Superhero frowned. "Oops. I missed."

"What is wrong with you?" Hero crouched behind the wall, knowing it would give them ample cover to hide.

"You took too long to get back. Once I saw you were clear of the building, I knew that could only mean one thing." Superhero's voice was as cold as ever.

"And you didn't think that maybe Villain had kidnapped me? That I was being tortured for information Villain could use against you?" Hero couldn't believe that Superhero, their mentor, their leader, could be so cold and callous. They hadn't wanted to believe Villain. Hadn't wanted to, but deep down they knew Villain was right. And hearing Superhero talk now confirmed it.

Superhero laughed as they blasted the wall out from over Hero's head. "Villain would never hurt you. They may not be a lot of things, but they are sentimental." Superhero launched another fireball.

Hero ducked and rolled out into the hall, sending bolts of electricity at Superhero. Superhero blocked Hero's attack with a wall of fire. "They are so predictable."

Hero was up and running before Superhero could take another shot at them. This was not good. Superhero was just too powerful. They just had to keep Superhero distracted long enough so that Villain could get the antidote and getaway. Villain would keep fighting against Superhero. Hero could buy them enough time as their atonement for not believing Villain. For not trusting Villain.

"And you're not?" They placed their palms on the ground and sent a powerful current into the floor.

Superhero leapt into the air, avoiding electrocution with ease. "I can be predictable. I have more power." Superhero sent flames towards Hero, blocking their exit. "And this is the end of the line, Hero." They raised a fist of fire.

Hero closed their eyes. They said a silent apology to Villain that this was the only time they could buy for Villain. It would have to be enough. Hero was strangely at peace with being destroyed.

"For you, maybe," Villain's voice, though weak, rang down the hallway.

Hero wrenched their eyes open to see Superhero turn with flame coated fist towards Villain. Villain aimed a weapon Hero had never seen before at Superhero. Villain's arms shook with the effort to hold and aim the weapon.

"Pathetic. You can't even raise it all the way. You are weak. You are filth. You are nothing."

Villain smirked. "That may be true. But at least I'm not evil."

"You are powerless. You cannot stop me. You don't even know what that does, do you?" Superhero sneered as they stepped towards Villain, flames twining down their other arm.

"Do you?" Villain's eyes flashed as they caught Hero's gaze. "Duck!" They roared as they fired the weapon at Superhero.

Hero couldn't exactly explain what happened as they ducked. One moment Superhero was there, flames spiraling towards Villain, the next a wave of energy passed over them and they were gone.

"Oh thank goodness," Villain said as they sank to their knees. "You ok, 'ero?" Villain asked as they began to cough again.

"Did you just..."

"Convert the form of energy that the matter making up Superhero to another form using an energy based weapon? Yep." Villain coughed harder, specks of blood flecking their lips and the back of their hand.

"Whoa, hey, hey! Villain, what about the antidote?" Hero hurried down the corridor to where Villain knelt. Hero couldn't breathe around the lump in their throat. This was not happening.

Villain lifted their head weakly, their face paler and sweatier than ever before. "DDDDDoesn't-t-t-t-t ex-ex-exist." They tilted forward, but Hero caught them, keeping them from falling.

Hero began to cry. "Tell me what to do. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. What do you need?" Hero could feel Villain struggle to take a breath. Could feel the heat emanating from them. Could feel Villain dying in their arms.

Villain blinked up at Hero. "There'ssss nothing. It's...It's.....It's 'k, 'ro." Villain took a choking breath. Their breath rattled deep in their chest.

"No," Hero sobbed, "no, you can't die. Not after....not after everything. I need you, Villain. I.....I....I love you."

Villain pressed a shaking hand to Hero's cheek. They sucked in as much air as they could. "I love you, Hero. I.....I....I nnnneverrrr st-st-stoppeddddd." Villain closed their eyes tightly against pain as they coughed. They coughed and coughed, their body shaking with each movement. "It'sssss 'k, 'ero. 'm 'k w-w-w-ith th-th-thissssss. Y'r 'k." Villain's touch on Hero's face began to slip away as Villain closed their eyes.

Hero put their hand on Villain's, keeping Villain's hand on their cheek. This wasn't happening. This was all their fault. They should have gone with Villain all those years ago. Why hadn't Villain give up on them? Hero had given up on Villain. Why hadn't Villain given up on them? "Was it," Hero sniffed, "was it all worth it? All the pain, all the hate. Was it worth it?"

Villain's eyes fluttered opening. Their eyes blazed with the passion Hero knew filled their being. "It.....w-w-was if....if....if.....I wassssss rightttttt. I," they took a wheezing breath, their eyes clouding with pain, "tooooook a ga-ga-gamble on....on...on the sl-sl-slimmmmmm chancccceee I...I....I was right." Their eyes fluttered closed as they took another shallow wheezing breath.

Hero tapped Villain's cheek, unwilling to let Villain leave. They couldn't leave. They needed Villain. "But was it worth it? Worth being the villain in everyone's story?"

Villain opened their eyes slowly, eyes clear once more. "I....was....nnnnever the v-v-v-illain in yyyyyourrrr st-st-story, H-H-Hero." Their breath rattled in their chest as they gasped. "'nd I w-w-wassss right."

Hero let out a howl of pain as they watched the light in Villain's eyes die. Let out a heartrending sob as the wheezing, rattling breaths stopped. Let out the sound of their heartbreak as the only person who they ever truly loved and was loved by died in their arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Hero sobbed into Villain's hair. "Please, please, come back. Come back. Please. Please. Villain. God. Please, come back. I need you. I'm sorry. So sorry."

Tags: @fern-writes-whump@pic-star01@katsuorr@wankusbonkus@elisabethrosewrites@st0rmm@hopefullywritingahit@booklovingsnickerdoodle@suic1dal-chan @skiny406 @cherry-holic @annoyinghairdoranchhumanoid-blog @sausages-things @skye1633

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw mayhem #tw destruction #tw manipulation #tw poisoning #tw self sacrifice #tw blood #tw mcd #hurt/no comfort #hero x villain #hero x superhero #villain x superhero #hero x villain community #queue

[corfisers]

i really need to finish this one day

#one of my fave ideas but i keep getting stuck or starting over. third time's the charm hopefully #anyways. posting it as an excuse to rant because i'm losing my mind over this rn for no reason #incoherent but i just need to Talk or my brain won't shut up #you ever think about how fucked up it is that aoi feels guilty over what happened. i do. i think about her a lot #he can't even look at me. we aren't even blood related but he still had to go to jail because of me. i still love him #in reality none of it is her fault. it shouldn't be about doumeki in the first place. baby girl you were 15 when it happened. #you can say that yashiro is cruel in his dismissiveness (on the surface) of doumeki's trauma but you can see where he's coming from #you got a glimpse of what your sister was going through? of what i went through? and now you're sooo guilty over it? and who does it help? #doumeki's so focused on his own feelings that he ignored aoi when they were living together. “saves” her by pure chance #proceeds to focus on his guilt and ignore her again. if yashiro didn't get involved she'd be sitting in the rain for god knows how long #yet she still loves and to some degree idolizes him #yashiro and aoi both saying that doumeki isn't the type of person to be a yakuza too. doumeki's good doumeki's better than that #and then ch 24 happens. where yashiro says that he's going to throw up and doumeki's response is “i probably won't stop even if you do” #“guess i am like my father after all” and yashiro still goes “you're not. you're pure and im the problem” #(touches doumeki's face. rare gentle gesture. he's gentle afterwards too before leaving. man.) #he's not cruel enough to repeat what he said in the earlier conversation and he doesn't actually believe it anyway #but i wish yashiro was cruel there. it shouldn't have been about doumeki and his feelings. again. #something about yashiro throwing a knife at another person and it flying back at him huh #for all the talk about how doumeki supposedly romanticizes yashiro it really is the other way around. always has been #which is a whole other conversation but yeah. everything about aoi and yashiro in relation to doumeki makes me so fucking sad #but this is also what i mean when i say that aoi doesn't haunt the narrative per se but still has this weird presence? #she's in the parallels. she's in the brief but important mentions. she's in the “your sister was lucky she had you”. #wips tag

[derpinette]

TBH i kind of am into phonetics in a freak pervert way

#sorry i said that. but well i am... #GF that i make memorize different phonemes to pronounce for me so i can writhe in contentment <3 #amongst other things #that all dissolves out of my body the moment i enter my faculty & besides i am majoring in english #so my preferences are not really very present in the language unless you account for specific regional phonology in which case sure #but that is not something we will ever focus on i think... i mean in my level anyway Maybe if i get extra specialized later #my favorite sound ever in the world is the (voiced) uvular fricative ( & sometimes trill ) I LOVE IT so freaking KAWAII<3 #i only started noticing it like last year & have been obsessed with it ever since it makes me so. ^_^^^^^ HAH rawrWHO SAID THAT #this is the only nerdy thing about me not saying this to save face but like it literally is i am otherwise retarded in the literal way #when i was a kid i used to ask people to pronounce “ng” for me like as in ŋ & i would lose respect for them if they were unable to #they pronounce it as a hard N like that is clearly not what i asked make a little effort are you hearing impaired like. not that hard #it is literally the sound you make in “eating” “maintenant” like what is the problem here stop playing. yes that was insufferable of me #anyway but only for a brief time obviously i only held one grudge in my life which i let go as of recent #not against a person but something way larger ♯Peace♯Love♯Light #BREAKING: girl has the most normal common ****** ever >gets stoned anyway

[konfizry]

Anyway speaking of the sun did I ever tell you about the tales of arise eclipses

#im thinking about it again xyhdfgdchdchjh #do you think they like. considered it #i MEAN ofc they did #they cided that sun disappearing behind rena but dO YOU THINK #that they initially planned to have that actually impact like. the WORLD #in a significant manner? #with the actual luminosity level being affected and all #because like for cyslodia iirc this means no sunlight in the morning #(or cyslodia that we get to explore cyslodia's pretty big after all) #but like i can see how this is a problem like #you liberate cyslodia that is the One Realm where its always nighttime except when you end the renans' grasp on the region there #it still doesnt get a full day of sunlight because of astronomical reasons that we cant do anything about yet #also probably the region of the Central Ocean is in perpetual darkness as well but for those same astronomical reasons #like it GERS CONFUSING it would confuse everything idk #but heres the solution: you ditch that cyslodia in endless nighttime idea bc it was stupid in the first place #like. in calaglia they harvest fire astral energy so its a fiery place. theres fire everywhere. in menancia theyre harvesting #earth astral energy so its super lush and green. and so on and so forth #and in cyslodia theyre harvesting light astral energy so theres. theres no light. its dark. because theyre stealing it!!!!! #well why usnt menancia a barren wasteland then. why isnt ganoth super dry. wha #i COULD accept it if like. maybe. if like the completely stealing the light thing us like. ganabelt specifically. #like hes just a Special Boy and found a way to pull all the stops #and something like that has never been done before in the history of the crown contest #but no this has been going since the great conquest apparently so??? #like how arent the other lords doing something like that too? #is light astral energy like so fundamentally different that the harvesting process is the opposite of what happens in other realms? #and if thats the case why dont they ever explain it in the game. or just make a pasing comment about it. I'm not picky #aaaanyway. just get rid of that specific cyslodia plot point #and THEN you can focus on how living in the shade of rena influenced what parts of Dahna #like. to just kinda like. cement the world building a bit?

[spacedlexi]

absolutely wild to me that i will see the takes “mass effect andromeda is just a rewrite of me1″ and “mass effect andromeda just isnt a mass effect game” side by side do you not hear yourselves

#its n7 day i get to talk about mass effect all i want #i see the 'mea isnt a bad game its just a bad mass effect game' take so often #but like!! what does that even mean!! no one ever explains what they think qualifies as a mass effect game #i agree that elements of mea are similar to me1 #but i dont necessarily think thats a bad thing? #it gives people something familiar to attach to when theyre surrounded by a new cast and galaxy they have to get to know #andromeda definitely qualifies as a mass effect game #and i especially respect it for trying to go back to the original roots of mass effect which was supposed to focus on exploration #does andromeda have faults? absolutely. disappointing is the best word i can use to describe iy #but my disappointment mainly comes from being able to see What they wanted to accomplish with mea and how they really fumbled it #due mainly to poor management #which is the saddest part #theres a lot of good ideas there!! especially with what you learn in the last like 5% of the game lol #people will compare mea to the entire completed me trilogy when thats not fair and should Only be compared to me1 #in terms of its story and characters at least. and i think the mea cast developed much more by the end of the game than the og crew did in 1 #like we all remember liara being a weird fangirl and tali being a walking dictionary #mea combat is the me series at its best even if youre one of the people who Hates that you cant control squadmates #having mapped powers makes the combat sooo much faster and more fluid and theres no way to have that while keeping the power wheel #i was sad about the loss of it too but your squadmates are pretty good at comboing your moves it just takes getting used to #also people who say the pacing is bad when they follow one mission across multiple planets when youre just supposed to focus on one location #like i said mea disappoints me but its still rated a 7/10 like thats not a bad score by any means?? i agree a 7 is fair #anything below a 5 is dubious but people think if a game is anything less than a 10 then its a failure #really the biggest hurdle to get over is the fact its a new cast in a new galaxy with a pc that is young and inexperienced #just such a shame that it got dogpiled and memed so hard that we'll probably never get a direct sequel it deserved a 2nd chance #mass effect andromeda get behind me #rant over andromeda deserved better #it speaks #ALSO the 2 player characters were twins thats GOLD and was underutilized i just want the ryders back

[shopcat]

i think Perhaps like remember toast potent and that massive public breakdown about the surgery scars and all their favourite anime boys have huge dicks and swinging balls. i think maybe people find it hard to seperate being trans from their own dysphoria and so seeing a character they have found comfort in or even projected some sort of ideal self or gender envy on as trans is upsetting bc then they imagine them with the same dysphoric mindset does that make sense. like a switch flips somewhere and suddenly that character is now "a girl" "as well" because of.. dysphoria. and everything else reminds them of it. BUT FOR ME personally it just adds to it and they're still the same GUY just also yknow. Like me. and it's always small stuff too like in the same way it's not a big part of MY life it's just A part LIKE top surgery scars or a binder or hrt or literally just dialogue or clothing. and i tend to get most of my own positive thinking towards transness through the filter of these characters so in a way it's been like a certain kind of foundational in my own self image other than other real live trans ppl just existing obv. but it's fun it's just a headcanon end of the day like anything.

#🐾 #was talking abt trans hcs like 30 different times today seems to be a hot topic #like i've never not seen trans fanart that hasn't made me like so insanely over the moon it gets me every time without fail and always will #also i think that particular line of thinking is well obviously not healthy and can backfire very quickly #and i've seen hundreds of transmascs project their own dysphoria and then get mad when WE get mad #like YOU feeling bad about something doesn't acruallg mean ANYTHING not to be harsh it's just true. it only matters to you #like that ridiculous bullshit where someone will be like seeing people with top surgery scars just upsets me bc it reminds me of my own #chest dysphoria OR because i can't get it at this time or maybe ever like okay go gargle some rocks idc . loser #IDK i guess end of the day this all ties into real gender issues which vary from person to person and no one has any authority on #let alone ME ! #i just personally think when ppl perhaps idealise the cis body too much it can obviously end up in self esteem spirals and such #and i personally try to focus more on how every body as in Physical body is .. unique and different holds fat different #there's no one way to be fem or masc even if there's a society typical way #and even that society typical way is far broader than u would probably think or assume idk #plus how i've seen way more cis men w my body type than not even pre t #Agh... Wwll this got long 👍

[maschotch]

#6x04 #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #derek morgan #cm caps #i think its interesting the way penelope acts around hotch this ep #hotch doesnt say.. anything bad to her. ever #this is the only remotely negative thing he says that isnt constructive in some way #'i told you to tell me if you got stuck' 'just leave the press to me' all of this is him trying to ease the burden #even 'people are dying' isnt supposed to be blaming her--it's supposed to get her to focus on the task at hand #he's not rebuking her #idk if he's careful about it or if it just works out this way but he really doesnt say anything bad to her at all this ep #and she still beats herself up so much #the one time he Does say something that could be related to her performance... she's completely broken up about it #his word means EVERYTHING to her #even tho he hasnt said anything.. even the possibility of disappointing him just has her so so scared #in a way thats so different from the usual penelope we know