#but what if its being called back for a job

[keerysfreckles]

newsies — MV1 (smau)

pairing: max verstappen x musical theater fem!reader faceclaim; kara lindsay !

summary: when lando drags max to his favorite musical, max takes a liking to the leading lady

warnings: none!

a/n: this is 100% made for me, i can't shut up abt newsies or jeremy jordan... sooo why not combine my two loves (newsies and f1 😁)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by jeremymjordan, landonorris and 11,037 others

yourusername NEWSIES OPENS ON BROADWAY IN ONE WEEK WHAT IS LIFE

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user1 tickets have been secured since last year IM SO EXCITED

user2 oh to get a hug from jeremy jordan 😞

jeremymjordan IM EXCITED ARE YOU EXCITED

yourusername I CAN'T SIT STILL JERE

user3 "jere" they're too cute 😭😭

mikefaist guess who has a front row seat 😁

yourusername MIKEEE 🥹🥹

user4 OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING OKAY EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user5 oh i've been waiting YEARS to see y/n in a broadway musical

landonorris missing fp1 to be there 🫡

yourusername lando no that's your job??

landonorris not that important 🤷‍♂️ plus there's someone i want you to meet

user6 someone to meet?? another driver??

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 19,728 others

yourusername opening night, race weekend, and max picking me up from rehearsals! (eventful week if you ask me)

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user1 ABSOLUTELY LOVED THE SHOW!!!!!!!!

user2 y/n and jeremy being the power duo on stage IKTR!!

user3 lando looks like he's hating the rain 😭

user4 WAIT PAUSE WHATS MAX DOING THERE

user5 PICKING HER UP TOO??????

landonorris your fault i dnf'd ☹️

yourusername not my fault it was raining??

user6 WAIT WHAT IF MAX WAS THE ONE LANDO BROUGHT WITH HIM TO OPENING NIGHT

user7 oh your onto something

maxverstappen1 still can't believe you know how to tap dance AND sing at the same time

yourusername i'd say it's harder to be on broadway than it is being an f1 driver

maxverstappen1 no need to go around lying on social media sweetheart

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris, jeremymjordan and 20,188 others

yourusername spent my time off with this guy, anyone know who he is?

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user1 he's so pookie ugh

jeremymjordan come back to new york ben and mike won't shut up about you (i guess i miss you too)

yourusername only if max can come too

user2 the duo i didn't know i needed

user3 okay but what's max's favorite newsies song 👀

maxverstappen1 i think he's a formula one driver, could be mistaken

yourusername thanks for clearing that up!

user4 max slowly becoming all of y/n's feed is so entertaining

user5 y/n and max the unexpected duo i didn't know i needed

landonorris you didn't hang out with me 😔😔😔

yourusername sorry max is just better company???

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 305,984 others

yourusername when f1 update accounts expose you and your boyfriend 😞😞

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user1 SO IT WAS THEM??????

user2 PLS THE CAPTION SHE'S TOO FUNNY

maxverstappen1 the secret was coming out sooner or later love

yourusername i know but now we can't soft launch ☹️☹️

user3 THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

landonorris call me cupid 😏

yourusername no

maxverstappen1 no

user4 NEW BF MAX CONTENT IM SO READY

jeremymjordan proud to say i knew before twitter did 😁

maxverstappen1 just posted !

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 450,177 others

maxverstappen1 dating y/n means listening to the newsies soundtrack on repeat ❤️

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user1 THE MIDDLE SLIDE THEYRE TOO CUTE

user2 this had to mean max has a fav newsies song omg

jeremymjordan take care of her please

maxverstappen1 never plan on stopping

user3 y/n's bway bf 🤝 y/n's real bf

landonorris CALL. ME. CUPID.

maxverstappen1 still no

user4 THEY'RE MY EVERYTHING OMG

yourusername i don't think you can have your phone out in the theater sir 🤨🤨

yousuername but seriously you love the newsies soundtrack

maxverstappen1 i never said that

yourusername so what do you go to all the shows for??

maxverstappen1 my beautiful talented stunning girlfriend of course 😉

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen x female!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x fem reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen smau #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #f1 #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #newsies #newsies broadway #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

[reids-slut]

An Invisible Locket

Chapter 1: Loved You in Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader // Secret relationship

Description: You work with your best friend and your boyfriend. The only problem is, nobody knows Spencer Reid is your boyfriend of over a year. When you find out that Spencer's getting sent out on a case immediately after getting back to Quantico, impulses take over. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, oral sex (M & F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (in a pro-choice context, though Reader ends up choosing to stay pregnant), minor mentions of alcohol and cancer.

As for the crime subplot, much of it is very canon-typical (referenced child abuse & grooming by an extended family member (non-sexual), violence, blood/gore, drugs. As always, please feel free to let me know if I miss any CWs!

A/N: This fic is obviously heavy on the Spencer and Reader relationship, but it's also got a significant Garcia best friend plot line and crime plot line. This fic also features an unplanned Reader pregnancy. Reader debates abortion and is pro-choice, but ultimately ends up keeping the pregnancy. If any of that isn't up your alley, please feel free to skip this fic!

Names used: Baby, baby girl, good/sweet/pretty girl, daddy, good boy (once), my love.

Words (this chapter): 3.6 K

Words (total): 29.1 K

Penelope Garcia finally shows herself at 10:08 a.m. As usual, she rolls into your shared office with the force of a tornado.

“All righty, Miss Y/N, we need to discuss the plans for your birthday party soon. I need a guest list because I need to figure out how much food I’m ordering and where we’re going to have it, since your apartment is pretty small and mine is only marginally bigger. I’ve already asked him, and Rossi did say we could have it at his house, so that’ll probably be the best option.”

Before she takes her seat, she takes notice of your furrowed brows and crossed arms. Her face falls. “Wait, what did I say wrong?”

“First of all, Pen, my birthday isn’t for another two months, and I told you that I’m fine with it just being the two of us. That’s why they make small cakes. For lonely people who only have one friend,” you joked. “Secondly, where have you been!? I’ve been here since nine, and it’s now…” You check your non-existent watch for dramatic effect, “past ten. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. Penelope Garcia, unreachable? I assumed that you were, quite literally, dead.”

“Two months is very little time in the party-planning world, I shall have you know! Plus, I may have already invited the team, so that’s…,” she starts counting on her fingers, but quickly gives up, “somewhere between 10 and 20 people, I think?”

You just sigh, stifling a laugh. Penelope Garcia loves a good, moderately-sized, well-planned party. Bonus points if it’s got a theme.

“Wait, did I not tell you about that meeting I had with Hotch this morning?” she asks, either genuinely puzzled or doing a great job at pretending to be.

Your curiosity is piqued. “No, but spill! Meeting with Hotch? What about, and why wasn’t I invited?”

Penelope takes her seat, and you slide your swivel chair over to hers. Elbows on your knees and chin resting on your fists, you await her update like an impatient child.

“It’s nothing that exciting, unfortunately, my sexy, salacious sidekick.”

Leaning in close to her ear, you whisper, “Don’t make me call HR again, Miss Garcia.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek and roll yourself back to your desk, only a few feet away, to resume working.

She drops her bomb as if it’s nothing, talking fast, as if that were to lessen its impact. “Section Chief Erin Strauss wanted an update on how the team was doing, having two technical analysts. That’s all it was.”

***

The FBI hired you to work as a technical analyst with the Behavioral Analysis Unit just shy of your 25th birthday. You met your best friend, Penelope Garcia, while she was presenting on behalf of the FBI at your then-school and her alma mater, Caltech.

Beginning the final year of your undergrad computer science degree, you had little idea of what direction you wanted to take after graduation.

Penelope’s presentation showcased various tech-related careers within the FBI, of which technical analysts are one. She confidently marched up to the microphone wearing a bright pink pencil skirt, pink tweed jacket, and a cat-ear headband. You immediately knew that you had to talk to her afterwards.

Even in high school, you were always the one who had to match your outfits and accessories to a specific theme or color. Themed outfits brought you so much joy and confidence, but people have chastised you for the way you choose to express yourself in the past.

In your first term of university, one professor used your outfit as an example of how not to dress in a “professional setting”. She was a woman, too. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as badly coming from a male professor, but being shamed by a female professor did a number on your self-esteem.

Thankfully, your mom has always been your number one fan and biggest cheerleader. When you cried to her about your experience in class, she gave you the pep-talk of a lifetime about how the world needs more people who are authentically themselves to “bring color to the lives of the boring”. She’s an oil painter, so the advice was very on-par for her, but it still meant a lot.

Seeing another colorful, authentic woman, let alone one with a job at the FBI—which you had always viewed as a stuck-up, cold, and refined place to work—was immensely inspiring.

Besides talking about technical analysts, Penelope highlighted the careers of digital forensic examiners, IT specialists, and computer scientists within the FBI. Everything about her seemed down to earth, and you felt so excited by her presentation. You were actually taking notes.

After her presentation, you headed over to see if you could speak with her. Before you could even open your mouth, she loudly gasped upon seeing your outfit.

You were wearing a sundress that day, the white fabric arrayed with printed lemons. Your necklace and earrings had little lemon charms to match, and the purse you were carrying (which was only large enough to hold a few items) was in the shape of a lemon wedge. A yellow elastic pulled your hair up into a ponytail, topped off by a yellow headband.

Your big gray backpack stood out like a sore thumb, but unfortunately, your laptop and textbooks didn’t quite fit in the lemon purse.

After talking up a storm, Penelope gave you her card. You two became fast friends, first via email and later by phone. She became the older sister you never had. A photo album in your closet holds the photos from your numerous trips to visit each other.

Right after you finished your master’s, Penelope convinced her boss to hire you to work alongside her in the BAU.

***

“So, after being here more than two years, Strauss wants to know if she can cut me from the team? That’s your idea of ‘no biggie’?” you ask.

“I wasn’t going to tell you because I knew it would just cause you all sorts of unnecessary stress and I wanted to protect your sweet, precious little heart. But both Hotch and I assured Strauss that you’re a much-needed member of the team and, thankfully, for once, she left the boxing gloves at home and didn’t put up a fight.”

“Well, thank you for trying to protect me from stress, but I mean, I did think you were dead for a whole hour today.” You bounce your two upward-facing palms up and down, as if weighing out the pros and cons of her decision.

“You’re right. Next time I have to keep a secret from you, I need a better lie,” she joked.

“How about any lie, actually? You just told me nothing and my brain assumed the worst.”

Penelope is so special to you, and you are both so content getting to work together. You guys have decorated your office to the maximum extent, just shy of incurring a fire code violation. Your desk is as equally covered with fun knickknacks and fidget toys as hers.

“Oh, shoot! You finished the prep on the Cedar Key case, right?” Penelope asks. “I forgot to check that you got JJ’s email because I was so caught up with that stupid meeting!”

“Strauss does what Strauss does best: taking away resources and making it harder for all of us to do our jobs,” you joke with an eye roll. “But yeah, I saw her email early this morning, and I got started on it as soon as I got in. I finished about 20 minutes before you finally showed up, so I just went in and did some updates on the back-end while I waited.”

“Oh, good! If you hadn’t finished it, I would’ve had to send you to the time-out bean bag chair for the rest of the day.” She puts on a childish, grumpy voice, “And we all know how grumpy you get when you get sent to the time-out bean bag chair for being a bad girl.”

You can’t come even close to containing the full belly laugh that escapes you as you lean back in your chair.

The time-out bean bag chair thing is an inside joke between you two. You and Penelope snuck a fluffy pink bean bag chair into your office last year. A much-needed piece of office furniture in your eyes, but your superiors would probably disagree. Thankfully, the custodians have left it alone and just cleaned around it. Nobody’s ratted you out yet.

One day, you both were working on problem-solving a kink in the system after an update. It’s Penelope’s operating system, but you had already become fairly familiar with it by that point.

Derek must have had nothing more important to do that day, because he wouldn’t stop bugging you guys, asking questions about what you were doing and touching things on Penelope’s desk. He loves to bug her, and you love to tease her about it. He’s like a schoolboy with a crush.

Penelope blew up at him and told him that if he wanted to stay, he was getting a time-out on the bean bag chair.

He stayed. The name stuck.

Penelope’s phone alerts on her desk, breaking the complete silence in the room. “JJ just texted and said it’s time to brief the team.” She stands and raises an elbow for you to interlink your arm with hers—basically the only way you two walk around the office (or skip when no one’s looking).

“Let’s go, Mini-Me,” she says.

***

As soon as he strolls into the round table room, you spot him. Your eyes dart immediately to his, catching his gaze. Your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. You force your eyes away from him, scanning the rest of the room.

You’ve been with the BAU for 2 years and secretly dating Spencer for a little over half of that. As far as you’re aware, nobody’s figured it out yet. At work, you try your hardest to remain as professional and platonic as possible. Sometimes though, your mind drifts to daydreams of Spencer meeting you in your office alone, your hands planted firmly on your desk as he takes you from behind.

He’s sitting at the far side of the large table, between Dave Rossi and Emily Prentiss. He’s wearing the loose navy-blue cardigan he knows you love over a pale blue dress shirt. Oh, to be able to grab him by the tie and peel those clothes off him right now…

This is the first time you’ve been able to see Spencer in over a week. He had a week’s worth of vacation time to use up, so you encouraged him to go visit his mom, Diana, in Vegas. Spencer was over at your place the last time he got a call from the assisted living facility Diana’s at. They told him that she’s been more agitated lately and asking for her son. The pain on Spencer’s face when they asked him if he’d be able to come visit soon broke your heart.

It would have been great if you could have gone with him to Vegas (or otherwise not spent his vacation apart), but Spencer really needed to see her, regardless.

A few of your coworkers are quietly chatting, but they quiet as soon as JJ begins. “All right everyone, let’s get started.” Everyone begins to thumb through the small folder of papers on the table in front of them detailing the case. “We’re headed to Cedar Key, Florida. They’ve got two victims so far, with two very different MOs.”

You press a button on the small remote in your hand which controls the presentation. Images of the two victims pre- and postmortem pop up on the screen.

Penelope averts her gaze as she picks up from JJ. “As you can see, this was no fun Florida vacation for these two. On the left is James MacDermott from Cleburne, Texas. 38 years old. Worked in IT. Father to two adorable, chubby-cheeked twin babies. His wife reported him missing when she woke up one day and he had left with no note or explanation.” Her face tightens. “James was found dismembered in a suitcase under a pier by a group of teenagers who were going for a swim. Finding a dismembered corpse is definitely not my idea of a fun day at the beach.”

“Our second victim,” you start, “is Elaine Colton, 74, of Abilene, Kansas. She’s a retired second grade schoolteacher. Her husband Joe died two years ago, and she’s been living on her own since. Her daughter—a nurse—stops by once a week to visit and help with errands. Elaine lost her license after suffering a stroke a few years ago, so she can’t drive. Her daughter called 911 when she went for her weekly visit and found her mom was gone. She said her mother ‘packed as if she were going on a trip.’”

You consciously keep your gaze moving around the room as you speak, but while you’re talking, Spencer isn’t taking his eyes off you. Knowing he’s about to leave on a case again makes it that much harder when all you want to do is hug and kiss him right now. Sometimes, you don’t even get the luxury of saying goodbye, but that’s the nature of the job and of keeping a secret like this.

“Her body was found dumped in a glade nearby three days after our first victim, but unlike James, Elaine’s limbs were fully intact.”

Derek is the first to speak up. “So, how do we know these deaths are connected?”

Penelope gives you a quick nod to bring up the next pictures. The images are of the back of the victims’ bodies. The back of their skulls has been cut open—seemingly with some sort of surgical saw—into a perfect square.

“As you can see,” Penelope continues, shielding her peripheral vision from the monitor with her hand, “our friends here had some not-so-little holes left in the back of their heads.”

“Definitely some surgical training,” Rossi notes. “Our unsub purposefully left their brains exposed for a reason.”

“Is that a matching tattoo on their backs?” Emily asks.

“Yes,” JJ replies. You skip to the next set of images with a close-up of each victim’s tattoo, thankful that the grotesque pictures are gone. You’re not shaken as easily by the gore as Penelope, but that was still far too much brain for how early in the day it is—or ever, honestly. The tattoos are of a rod with a snake winding up around it.

“Both victims have this tattooed on the middle of their upper backs. ME thinks that both the tattoo and the skull dissection were done postmortem.”

As soon as Spencer saw those tattoos, he lifted slightly in his seat. He’s been waiting for his opportunity to interject.

“The tattoos are of the Rod of Asclepius, which has been a symbol of medicine since 800 BCE. According to Greek mythology, Asclepius was the god of medicine and his father, Apollo, the god of healing.”

Derek cuts in, “Wait, I thought the symbol of medicine was the staff with the two snakes and the wings, or whatever?”

“That’s actually the caduceus, which was the staff carried by Hermes. In the mid-to-late 1800s, the US Military began mistakenly using the caduceus, first with Army hospital stewards and then, in 1902, the Army Medical Department adopted it. It was even used by the American Medical Association for a period until they correctly adopted the Rod of Asclepius in 1912. Before then, the caduceus had no connection to medicine whatsoever.”

The joy on Spencer’s face whenever he gets to share his fun facts warms you up inside. You have to suppress the pure admiration on your face. He’s looking around at his colleagues, but they aren’t at all entertained by his information. They’re trying to dissect it.

“Okay, so this is someone who’s knowledgeable about medicine then, right?” Dave asks.

“Yeah, I think surgical training or something along those lines still makes the most sense,” Emily says.

When Spencer glances your way, you give him a quick shy smile. To anyone else, it might come across as pity, but it’s your unspoken way of reminding him that you love his big, beautiful brain and that you’ll always listen to him. You’ll always hear him. He quickly flashes you a smile in return; his silent thank you.

Everyone turns their attention to you as you pick up from JJ, getting the briefing back on track.

“The ME also said that the COD on each victim was wildly different. Elaine Colton died of an overdose of fentanyl that was most likely cut with etizolam, which was also found on the tox. screen.”

“Street fentanyl being compounded with etizolam—a black-market benzodiazepine—is often called ‘benzo dope’,” Spencer remarks. “It’s a combination of drugs that’s much more likely to cause an overdose because naloxone isn’t effective against benzodiazepines and most drug user aren’t aware that their supply isn’t pure.”

“I’m assuming that our house-bound, retired schoolteacher wasn’t using street drugs in her free time.” Rossi adds, uncontested.

The team reflects on that information while JJ continues, “James MacDermott died, most likely of blood loss. His heart was crudely cut out of his chest with what the ME believes was a steak knife.”

“So, there are at least two unsubs,” Emily says. You can only assume because of the surgical precision of one act and the bluntness of the other.

Derek looks up from the case file. “This isn’t a very populated area, right? How has the local PD not pinned anyone yet?”

You look at Spencer before he even starts. “Cedar Key is an island off the coast, connected to the mainland by a bridge. It only has a population of around 700 people. Levy county has 39,875 people, though.”

Hotch stands to address the team. “Okay, Reid, you start working on a geographical profile. Morgan and Prentiss, you guys head straight to the ME. JJ and I will get set up at the local PD.” His stoicism falls ever so slightly, an air of frustration tinging his voice. “Also, the jet’s a bit behind today because there was a delay in the routine maintenance check, but I want everyone back here in an hour. Wheels up in… 90, I guess.”

The team seems a bit stunned for a moment. Hotch tells everyone to use this as an early lunch break and to relax a bit before they have to leave. His placidity over such a lengthy delay surprises you, but you aren’t going to complain about an extra hour before Spencer has to leave for god knows how long.

Spencer grabs his phone out of his pocket as everyone shuffles out of the room, so you wait a moment before grabbing yours out of the pocket of your favorite black linen, wide-legged trousers. Thank god you didn’t wear a skirt and tights today. That would’ve been a bitch to deal with later.

During work hours, his messages don’t leave any notifications. No vibrations. Nothing. He has his set up the same. If your phone were to vibrate only moments after he picks his up (or vice versa), your coworkers would have figured your secret out a long time ago. That would’ve been stupidly obvious.

Staying a few paces behind everyone exiting the room, you open up your text conversation with your boyfriend. Even on your personal phone, you keep his full name and only his full name in your contacts.

Spencer Reid: “Parking garage in 5. I’m already on my way down, so head out ASAP.”

Glancing across the bullpen, you don’t see Penelope. She must have darted out of the room directly after the brief while you were focused on finding the first moment you could whip your phone out of your pocket.

You shoot Penelope a quick text that you’re running home for lunch to eat your leftover Chinese takeout. This lie does kind of track for you, actually. You’re not the best chef ever and you’re even worse at packing lunches for work. You’ve used past lunch breaks to run out to grab fast food or a fresh, much-better-tasting sandwich from the café across the street.

Walking past Hotch’s office on your way out, you can see him yelling into his phone. You’d guess that the maintenance team is getting an earful of Hotch’s anger and frustration right now. He definitely values punctuality and professionalism.

Looking around, you check to make sure nobody that you know is nearby as you approach Spencer’s car in the parking garage.

He pulls out of the spot as soon as you’ve closed the car door.

“My place, I presume, handsome?”

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” He places a hand on your knee as he drives, snaking his fingers up your inner thigh. “I could barely focus on what you were saying when I just wanted to get my hands all over you. I’ve got some case file reading to do on the way to Florida.”

Your apartment is only a three-minute drive, which is why you bike to work most days, but that also means it’s the best option right now. Getting this opportunity right now feels like a gift from whatever gods may be. whatever gods may be.

I hope you like this one! I've been working on these seven chapters for over two months and I've put well over 100 hours into this fic. Comments and/or constructive feedback are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Tag list (Add yourself to my tag list!): @lover-of-books-and-tea

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reod x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!bau!reader #criminal minds #mgg #matthew gray gubler #reids-slut-writes

[genericpuff]

hey gen p! i was reading a post of yours where you mentioned LO's age rating and briefly mentioned that minthe was verbally abusive during sex which surprised me bc i didnt really remember her being accused of doing so outside of the slap/havent come across any other accusation since, so i've been defending her against abuse allegations, maybe mistakenly, bc i stopped reading the comic at some point. is it too much to ask for some instances where she *was* abusive so i can correct my outlook?? thx! :3

oh so it's really just one scene and it's waaay back in Episode 8-

like i'm gonna assume this isn't a consensual kink play thing LOL but also like. I wanna make it clear also that people don't necessarily defend Minthe as not being abusive, many people who defend her are well aware that she's done abusive shit. They defend Minthe because 1.) she has a lot more potential for well-written character development than Hades and Persephone (as she's actually genuinely flawed as per the narrative vs. Hades and Persephone who are flawed but we're still expected to believe they're perfect, so unlike H x P Minthe actually has potential to do better and grow like characters should!) and 2.) a lot of Minthe's abuse towards Hades isn't necessarily justified but is a lot more understandable when you really analyze Hades and realize that he is, in fact, a piece of shit LOL

like don't get me wrong, I don't think Minthe was in the right by treating Hades like shit and escalating it to the slap, there are FAR better things she should have done... but I and many others defend her on the basis that she doesn't have the self-respect or resources necessary to look out for herself in a more productive way, much of which was facilitated by Hades trapping her in a financially abusive relationship. When you're worried not only about losing your partner, but also your house and your job with it, that's gonna turn into some unhealthy coping mechanisms and responses like physical and verbal abuse as we see in Minthe. She's someone who's not in control of her situation but is trying to maintain her control through unhealthy means.

Hades, on the flipside, has no excuse when he assaults people or acts like an asshole - he's just able to get away with it through the narrative, its characters, and the readers, because he's the rich and powerful main protagonist.

Minthe is an incredibly flawed person who was self-aware enough to understand what she was doing wasn't right but not equipped enough to do better. She's lower class (according to Rachel, all the nymphs are considered lower class compared to the gods) and was originally written as someone with untreated BPD, which Rachel later retconned (note: the episode where Minthe slaps Hades is literally called Splitting, which is a symptom of BPD, like it's not some assumption or misinterpretation, Rachel literally wrote BPD into the script and then tried to quietly backpedal on it later through Discord.) Hades is an incredibly flawed person who is self-aware of what he's doing, but doesn't see it as wrong and therefore doesn't see any reason to do better. But we're expected to root against the former as an irredeemable villain who can't do better and root for the latter who is an actual monster whose actions are justified and excused by the narrative and its creator.

So yeah, that's why a lot of us defend Minthe. She's not perfect, she's done abusive shit, but unlike Hades and Persephone, she has the capacity to grow and change for the better.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

[pinkiemachine]

How would you do Batman, I'm just wondering because Batman's my favorite character

OH HO HO!! I HAVE WRITTEN SO MUCH ABOUT BATMAN!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

*ahem*

His show is called BATMAN: GOTHAM FILES, and I have the basic outline for each and every one of the seasons! There’s 9 total, plus a movie finale. Here we go!

SEASON ONE:

Most of us should know basically what Bruce’s backstory is, so I’ll keep this part brief. Bruce Wayne was eight years old when his millionaire mother and father were gunned down in front of him in an alleyway in Gotham City. They never found the killer. The family’s loyal butler, Alfred Pennyworth, took care of Bruce from that point onward. Bruce started taking self-defence classes in-between going to the schwanky Gotham Academy and learning how to run his father’s business, Wayne Enterprises (a massive conglomerate that was famous throughout all of America, but especially the East Coast.) The young man had hardly healed from his traumatic experience, though, and after graduating college (something he was practically forced to do by Alfred), he decided not to stay in Gotham. He hated the city. Instead, he took off in a plane… and secretly never intended to come back…

EIGHT YEARS LATER…

It was a welcome surprise when Bruce Wayne turned up in Gotham, seemingly in a much happier headspace and eager to finally, finally take his father’s business seriously. The Prince of Gotham had returned. Months after that, there was a new legend lurking in the streets of the city. Something called “the batman” or “the bat.” Criminals were getting caught and arrested left and right, and half of them were scared out of their minds about this spectre. The police force didn’t know what to make of it… except for one Captain Jim Gordon. He knew that the legend was true… and occasionally, he would sneak into his office and scare the living daylights out of him. He and Batman had been working together for a little while now, (we get an episode later that explores how they first met), but Gordon doesn’t know who he really is under the mask, and no one else in the force thinks that Batman is even real. But Gordon is eager to help him because the police force is falling apart. They’re completely unable to do their job and keep the streets safe, so Gordon agrees to help Batman stop crime in its tracks. He wants to make Gotham safer for his wife and daughter.

Shocking literally no one, the audience discovers that Bruce Wayne is Batman, working out of a massive secret base underneath Wayne Manor—his ancestral home. But, he must balance the life of a vigilante with the life of billionaire Bruce Wayne, which can be difficult at times. We get several episodes just laying the ground work. Who runs the company when Bruce isn’t around? Lucious Fox. Who manages Bruce’s affairs and schedule? Alfred. Who makes all the gadgets and gear that Batman uses? He does. Using plenty of materials and goods he can buy since he’s a billionaire. When did he learn how to make all this stuff? Hmmmmmm….

We meet our first few villains—Penguin, Two-Face, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Riddler, etc—Batman is still trying to track down who murdered his parents, and we’re having a generally good time until THE MID SEASON FINALE. You see, there’s a circus coming to town.

Haley’s Traveling Circus was famous on the East Coast, being one of the oldest circuses in the country, as well as boasting the Fabulous Flying Graysons! A family trapeze act! However, this smiling troop of clowns was actually hiding some pretty dark secrets. When they arrived in Gotham City, they were asked to help out known mob-boss Tony Zucco with some… not-so-nice things. John Grayson, head of the Flying Graysons, had been feeling conflicted about how much behind-the-scenes shady dealings the circus had been involved with over the years. So, he thought that maybe if he just let the tiniest bit of evidence leak to the police, maybe they could handle everything and the Graysons wouldn’t be caught in the cross fire. This is what brings Batman to the scene. He investigates the circus, meets the Graysons, including their son, Richard, aka Dick, and eventually goes on to solve the mysterious crime, pinning it on Tony Zucco and getting certain members of Haley’s Circus arrested. (The ones actually involved in the crime.) However, Zucco manages to avoid jail time. Not only that, but he discovers who snitched on him. That night, after the case has been solved and Bruce shows up to catch the Flying Graysons perform, everything is going great until the unthinkable happens: the lines on the trapeze snap and Mr. and Mrs. Grayson go falling to their deaths.

Dick Grayson is an orphan… and he’s angry. He’s about 11 years old, but he’s smart enough to know what’s going on. He knows why Batman was coming around asking questions, he knows who Tony Zucco is, and he knows that his father made him very unhappy. After the police have arrived, but before social services do, Dick sneaks out and climbs to the top of the building with the Bat-Signal on it (yes, by this point in the story, that’s a thing). He flashes it on and off, rain pelting down, until the caped crusader arrives. He demands to know if this was Zucco’s fault. Batman refuses to say anything, but Dick doesn’t care. He says he’s going to make Zucco pay, whether Batman helps or not, and he tries his hardest to remain true to his word. After that night, Dick runs off through Gotham several times, trying to get in touch with Zucco and attempting to enact revenge, meanwhile Batman has to keep swooping in to keep the kid from getting himself killed. He recognises the pain he’s in—he completely understands his anger—and realises that he needs a teacher—a mentor—a father figure who can lead him through all of this and keep him out of trouble. So, as Bruce Wayne, he decides to adopt Dick. At first, Dick doesn’t want anything to do with this stranger—he’d rather stay with his circus family if he’s going to stay with anyone—but then, in court one day, Bruce says something—something only Batman said to him once—and all of a sudden, it clicks in Dick’s mind. He instantly asks to be placed in Bruce’s care and not a few hours after arriving at Wayne Manor, Dick manages to discover where the Batcave entrance is. Sneaking down there, he plans to become his own kind of vigilante, just like Batman, and get revenge… until Bruce catches him and tries to knock some sense into him.

It’s here that Bruce has to confront his own past. His sense and reason are saying, “Don’t let the kid try to enact revenge!” But then, he has to ask himself, “why am I still hunting down the man who killed my parents?” He has to tell himself, “it can’t be about revenge. Only what is just and fair.” When/if he finds the killer, he will turn him over to the authorities and let him face proper punishment. Zucco… he’s too powerful. There needs to be a lot of incriminating evidence against him before the police can take action, and even then, that’s not what Dick wants. Dick wants Zucco gone. Permanently. THAT is what needs to be dealt with inside of Dick. Bruce refuses to let this boy make himself a killer. Instead, he decides to channel that anger and drive into training him. You see, when Bruce vanished for eight years, it was during that time that he met many teachers and learned many new skills. Through bettering himself and learning these skills, he felt he had grown as a person and had worked through some of his emotions. It was therapeutic. He hopes it will be the same for Dick. He also teaches him about the justice system and detective work so that they can bring down Tony Zucco WITHOUT killing him. Little by little, over the course of the next year, Dick starts to turn into the infamous side-kick Robin, following Batman on small cases and learning about fighting crime… from a distance. (Mostly.) Dick does have a knack for getting into trouble.

On the personal side of things, Dick still needs to adjust to living in Wayne Manor, going to a new school (Gotham Academy) navigating being a wealthy, famous person’s adopted son, etc etc. And then… Ra’s Al Ghul shows up. Now it’s time for Bruce’s past to be revealed. He had traveled the world, and he did have many teachers, but none quite as legendary as the Demon’s Head, leader of the League of Shadows. A secret organisation (cult, really, Bruce later realised) that had mastered the art of martial arts, ninjutsu, and so much more. Each member was a peak specimen of the human race, with no genetic weaknesses or flaws, especially their leader, Ra’s. Bruce had been one of his top students, but then he had revealed his grande scheme for the world. Ra’s wanted to wipe out the rest of humanity (which he deemed as impure and flawed) and then the only people who would be left to inherit the Earth would be his perfect family and his perfect followers! All he was missing was a male heir to his throne. His daughter, Talia, most perfect of his children, had fallen in love with Bruce during his time in the Shadows, but before anything could come of it, Bruce had snuck out and left the League as fast as he could, meaning never to come back. Now, though, Ra’s had found him and wanted him to marry his daughter. Bruce refuses. Ra’s tries to take him by force, Robin helps save the day, it’s a big exciting grand finale to the season, and it ends with Ra’s and Talia retreating… because while Bruce was captured, they managed to steal some… “DNA”… and test tube baby Damian would be thus conceived, unbeknownst to Batman and Robin.

Anyway, things are looking up for our main characters. They saved the city, they saved each other, they’re working on their personal growth, and everyone is excited to see Season 2 because—

JOKER TEASE!!!! DUN DUN DUN!!!!

I’mma make more posts, this is a long one, strap in…

I also have a sketch of Talia…

Part 2 👇

#dc #dc comics #batman #bat family #bat brothers #fandom #fan fiction #head canon #Gotham Files #Bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth

[suhmingo]

I, uh, don’t know how to actually preface this. It’s really just a mini rant/pseudo-analysis of chapter 167. Which was pretty crazy. But, I loved this chapter, and yes I’m typing this with two hands.

But first let me try and do some housekeeping.

It’s perfectly fine to have an emotional, even visceral reaction to 167. That’s the point

If you feel grossed out, betrayed, unnerved, dumbstruck, or any form of bamboozled by today’s chapter then good! That means the emotional weight of the scene is working, and that you are a proper, feeling human. The

The whole point of fiction is to explore themes that would be difficult, even dangerous to experience from a place of safety. To me that’s, like the entire reason I ever wanted to become a writer, one of the most unsung broke boy jobs in the history of the world. My desire for Denji to get better in a world that is dead set on making him fail is the entire reason I have an emotional investment in the first place. Stories are inherently about conflict and the struggle with resolving conflict, that should make you uncomfortable.

Say what you want about Chainsaw Man. I can take it, I’m a big boy. But one thing that it has always had since Chapter one is a well-defined through line about the complexity of our innate desire to find some type of love fighting against the pain-wrought pathway that it leads us down. In a good story, every chapter should have some way of showing the highs and lows of that theme, and I’m pretty confident when I say that 167 perfectly shows us that.

It’s bad. Don’t let people who brag about their trauma tolerance tell you otherwise. You are well within your right to feel. But I think it would behoove people to 1. Realize that this is fiction, and its effects, though evocatory, are ultimately abstract, and 2. Realize that exploring dark themes allows people, especially a 16-25 (Or whatever the target audience for CSM is) to grapple with and think on human concepts as all encompassing as love.

From a writing standpoint, one chapter has escalated the tension of the entire story more than anything that has happened in Part 2 so far. It’s admittedly a bit early to call it peak. But looking at it as a simple story beat, that’s a fantastic chapter as far as the medium goes.

Listen, the whole point of stories since, like, Mesopotamian times was the tension between wanting a character to achieve happiness vs the hardships and trauma that life happens in life. They’re supposed to put you in a sensitive state emulative of a tense environment. I’d argue that the prevalence of escapist fiction and fandom has changed how we emotionally digest fiction. But that’s a whole nother essay.

The events of 167 aren’t some horny non-sequitur. Everything that happened is entirely a logical, if graven, extension of how we know characters.

Denji is at the lowest point we have ever seen him at. He was literally dismembered and put back together less than 10 chapters ago. The last chapter literally had him groveling on his knees at a cauldron’s brew of his own weakness, immaturity, stupidity, and horniness. I think we can all understand why he would not be in a good mental state to just lose himself in the moment. You can’t even blame Denji in this situation. He was in an entirely vulnerable state that was exploited entirely by

Yoru. Who is the literal embodiment of war. If you think that someone who represents the human fear of war is going to play fair. Turn on the news for five minutes. Yoru is a character we are not supposed to like. She’s fun, because she’s a work of fiction, but she’s arguably less trustworthy than Fami. She’s a violent, exploitative being who possesses a dead teenager. There is no “too far” for her if it’s the fastest way on the road to conquest. Reminder that before she caught feelings, her plan was literally just to castrate Denji because she thought that would further her goals. The fact that it turned into kissing was actually sparing a worse fate. IMO that savior was all in the actions of Asa.

Asa. I genuinely believe that, subconsciously, Asa wanted to kiss Chainsaw Man. Not like how it happened. Never like how it happened, but her desire for Denji/Chainsaw Man's affection has always been evident. She gets irreparably upset when she’s stood up, she makes cringe poetry for Chainsaw Man, and her entire goal as of now is in some misguided desire to make him happy. I also don’t think Asa is actually demisexual, or averse to sex. She is afraid of intimacy, which stops her from ever acting on her urges. Notice that both times Yoru has kissed Denji, it was after the idea of sex and intimacy was explicitly brought to the conversation. To me that screams that Yoru is spurred on by her host’s innate desires. Hell, it’s been shown that in the same way that Yoru has made Asa more proactive of a human being, Asa has made her feel emotions. I don’t think it's a coincidence that Yoru is blushing while kissing Denji. None of that was part of her plan. That’s Asa’s emotional influence getting the better of her in what I predict to be a fantastic role reversal of their initial contract.

This is thematically in line with how Chainsaw Man presents love and sets up deeper themes.



Remember way back in Part One when Denji was just an initial horndog and everybody kinda hated him? I hated Denji back then! When I first heard of Chainsaw Man I genuinely thought it was going to be a mommy-kink fuelled power fantasy. But I was wrong. Wonderfully wrong. Fujimoto used the allure of that idea in Makima to present a story about how dangerous and manipulative the very idea of grooming is, and how damaging that can be to a person. The same way Denji’s desire to get the approval of Makima was poisonous to him is mirrored in his desire for vapid, instantly gratifying sex is being portrayed here. I genuinely think this chapter is going to age like fine wine, and I am absolutely willing to take egg on my face if I’m wrong.

#chainsaw man #csm 167

[tenderleavesbob]

It was just a stupid fight. Warriors had them with Legend all the time. Legend all but started his days bantering with Warriors. They teased each other over breakfast and threw snarky remarks at each other at bedtime. It should have been fine.

Except the last few weeks had been long, and everyone was on edge. Their bantering had more barbs than usual until it was no longer bantering at all. Legend was exhausted and when he was that worn, he grew vicious. His words drew blood.

Warriors's armor was only good against physical blades. All of his efforts to thicken his skin meant nothing against Legend's clever tongue.

It was a stupid fight, and Warriors's response was worse. He heard Sky shouting at him to come back, but he ignored the hero. He grabbed his bag and stomped away into the forest. Perhaps if Time or Twilight or Wind had been there, they could have stopped him, but they were with Wild scouting out an ancient fort. He heard the others trying to calm down Legend and Legend snarling back. He tuned out all of it.

It was a stupid fight and it wouldn't have been so terrible if there wasn't so much truth in Legend's words. Usually Legend's tone was teasing when he brought up Warriors's unusual background and how he didn't have adventures or experiences like the rest of them. There had been nothing teasing today when Legend retorted that Warriors didn't have their experience, didn't have their knowledge, wasn't a hero like the rest of them, so why should they listen to him?

Why should they? What information could Warriors possibly provide to eight blooded, experienced heroes? How could he truly help them?

Warriors stomped away, fuming, and hating himself for how much it hurt. Legend's words struck true. He might have only been lashing out, but he was right. This wasn't Warriors's battlefield. He knew this. He had known it from the start.

He was a soldier. He wasn't a hero like the rest of them. As so many of them had pointed out over the campfire, Knights were better at being used by the enemy than protecting their kingdom.

By the Three, it hurt.

Warriors knew it was stupid to walk away. It had been a stupid fight and it was stupid to leave the camp, but Legend's words still rang in his mind and drowned out everything else.

What did he know? Why should a hero listen to a soldier?

What did he have to offer them?

Sky's calls and the other voices quieted. Warriors continued walking and the forest grew darker and denser around him. He knew he should stop. He knew he should calm himself down and return to the camp. He knew that it was just a stupid fight.

He knew Legend was right.

When everything grew silent and still around him, Warriors finally stopped. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea where the camp was. He dropped his bag and buried his face in his hands.

He was too much of a hero to be with his soldiers at home anymore, and he was too much of a soldier to fit in with the heroes. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to do?

A hero would know what to do. As Legend loved pointing out, heroes were great at puzzles. Things tended to be more black and white for soldiers.

A twig snapped to his right. Warriors straightened and grabbed his sword. He half expected to see Sky there.

It wasn't Sky. It wasn't a member of the chain.

A familiar dark lizalfos stood in front of him.

There was movement in the shadows. Monsters gathering. Warriors tensed. He was surrounded. When had this happened? How had he allowed himself to be so distracted?

Good job, hero.

Warriors grit his teeth and glared at the lizalfos in front of him. The monster wasn't moving. It was just watching him. There was something disturbingly familiar about its aura. It reminded him of...

"Hero," the monster hissed. "Or would Captain be more fitting?"

Warriors's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. The monster had been spying on them. "What should I call you?"

The monster smiled. It was a terrible look. "You can call me friend. I'm here to help you, after all."

"Oh?"

The lizalfos began to circle him. Warriors moved so his back was never to the monster. The other creatures didn't move closer. Waiting for their leader's command, he supposed. This was certainly no ordinary monster.

"They've turned you out," the lizalfos said. The idleness of its tone set off more alarms in Warriors's mind. This monster was a shape shifter, actual shape unknown. A creature of significant, deadly power, as shown by Twilight's injury. He was clever, as this conversation proved. "They drove you away. Your own betrayed you."

Warriors didn't answer. He just watched the monster, his own clever mind in motion.

The lizalfos kept smiling at him. It made his skin crawl. "All because you aren't the right kind of hero. You fought and bled for Hyrule, and it's not enough. You're not enough for them."

That stung. Warriors kept his own face impassive.

"You'll never be enough. You know it. They know it. Knights and heroes don't get along. Heroes don't fight alongside Knights. They fight them."

Words sharp as blades and just as good at drawing blood. Warriors didn't answer.

"Of course they would fight you eventually." The lizalfos stopped in its original spot, its dark eyes glittering. "Heroes have no need for a soldier."

"But you do," Warriors guessed.

The lizalfos grinned at him, baring its sharp teeth. "I do. We can help each other."

If Warriors was a true hero, he might have viewed this as a puzzle to be solved. He might have viewed this as an opportunity to get answers. He could have wielded his own clever tongue and tried to draw out information.

As everyone liked to point out, Warriors wasn't a real hero. He was just a Knight. A soldier.

"You're not worried about me doing anything stupid and heroic then?" Warriors inquired. He kept his voice calm and polite, just like he was talking to someone at Court.

He guessed it was the right tone by the glint in the monster's eyes. "Why should I? Haven't they made it clear that you aren't a hero?"

"They have," Warriors agreed. He thought of Time, his boy, in pain as he sat beside his descendant's sickbed. He thought of Twilight, dying and pale and quiet. He thought of the tears in Wind's eyes. "I'm not a hero."

Warriors whipped out his blade. His fury lit his blood and magic blazed, lighting up his sword. Warriors bared his own grin at the lizalfos. "Which means I don't need to worry about being a proper hero when I kick your ass."

He wasn't a hero. He was a war captain.

Maybe Warriors couldn't solve one of Legend's puzzles, but he was damned good at getting his hands dirty.

With a battle cry, Warriors charged.

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu legend

[eyeheartboobiez]

bruce wayne x gn!reader

a/n: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG PLSSS😭 i really only planned for this to be a couple of hundred words but it ended up being a couple of thousand lmao but i hope you like it🫶🏿

summary: you’ve been stressing yourself over a case at work, leaving your loving husband home alone. luckily, he knows just the thing to help you wind down.

wc: 2.4K

warnings: smut, barely proof read..

Just when you think you've gotten a step closer, you end up taking two steps back.

For hours now, you've been stuck at work, desperately trying to break what may just be the toughest case of your career. The only light illuminating the room was the lamp positioned at your desk, as the office was completely void of life – aside from you of course.

You were supposed to be back home hours ago, yet the pile of reports stacked in front of you was nowhere near finished. The forensic evidence wasn’t matching up with the alleged suspect, and the words on the paper before you got blurrier by the second.

Rubbing at your eyes, you let out a heavy sigh, coming to the devastating conclusion that you wouldn’t be able to solve this on your own. While integrity was one of the most essential parts of the job, a little help from a certain someone couldn’t hurt, right?

However, before you could pick up the phone and call your beloved Bruce, a knock was heard at the door. Who the hell could be here at this time of night? Despite your immense fatigue, you were sure your body couldn’t have gone to the point of hallucinating.

Well you weren’t imaging things, because lo and behold was all six feet and two inches of your husband standing at the entrance.

“You missed dinner, you know.” he said, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway.

He made his way towards your desk, his strides slow but formulated as always. The way he stalked towards you had the likeliness of a predator shadowing its prey. Somehow, the darkness of the room became even dimmer.

You weren’t scared though. Nervous, maybe, but this was your husband after all.

As much as he likes to parade the streets striking fear into the villains of Gotham, you know he was a sweetheart at the end of the day. However, if he couldn’t stand you staying late at work for one night, then he’d just have suck it up and deal with it.

“I know baby, but really, I have to get this done tonight.” you sighed, refusing to go down without a fight.

Stressed enough as is, you really weren’t in the mood to deal with Bruce’s antics right now. Closing your eyes, you put your head down on the pile of papers in front of you, hoping to subdue your worsening headache.

“Alfred even made your favorite.” A pair of large hands found themselves at your shoulders, “He was disappointed when you weren’t at the table, love.”

His digits kneaded at your traps, skillfully working their way into all the knots of the muscle. “C’mon darling, let’s get you back home and fed, ‘kay?”

You let out a deep groan, the tension in your shoulders had dissolved in an instant. Oh you already knew where this was going. 

You see, Bruce was a master at the art of persuasion, as if he had the secret ability to make anyone and everyone bend at his will. It was a power that even your eldest son Dick had picked up (to both your delight and disdain).

While you’d usually fall victim to his schemes, now was not one of those times. You were determined to wrap this case up, even if you passed out in the process.

Noticing your stubborn behavior, the dark knight leaned down and began nipping at your ear, “Damian was even hoping you’d make it back in time to say goodnight to him, you know.”

It was a compelling argument, you’ll give him that, but still you refused to submit to his tactics. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you started to get irritated. Why was it so hard for him to understand you were busy? 

“Bruce, seriously, cut it out. I gotta stay here and work my way through this evidence.” Lightly shoving him off, you picked up your pen and went back to sorting out the documents before you. Although the break was much appreciated, Bruce was proving to be no help at all.

Hoping he’d actually listened to you this time around, you jokingly made a last remark, “Since Alfred cooked too much tonight, how about you show me how much you love me and go grab me a plate.”

“How about I show you how much I love you right now.”

Before you could even question it, Bruce’s lips found themselves back at your earlobe. Except this time, his small pecks quickly transformed into open mouthed kisses.

His fingers went back to rubbing your shoulders, his workmanship more intense than ever. His fingers stealthily trailed up to your throat, squeezing at the area.

As you felt the pressure increase more and more, you finally became aware of what was happening. This entire time, he had been shadowing you like a wild animal.

And now he was ready to pounce.

“I see how stressed you’ve been recently,” He murmured against your skin, “Do you think I like seeing you exhausted like this, sweetheart?”

Eyes closed, you could do nothing but focus on how he sounds, how he feels. Your chest felt heavy, your mind felt hazy, and you couldn’t seem to get the words out to respond.

“Don’t know how to speak when your husband is talking to you? Guess you must be more tired than I thought.”

“No, Bruce I— ahh!”

Your voice was cut off as his hands began fondling your nipples, the hem of your shirt bunched up at your chest.

“Y’know how much I miss you on nights like this?” he spoke up again, leaving wet, languid kisses along your nape. 

“Waiting on our couch, laying without you in our bed, aching for you. Do you actually like leaving me alone like this?”

Your chest heaved at the thought, has he always been this desperate for you? As he continued to ravish you below the chin, your head moved against his lips, mimicking the harsh circular motions of an ocean wave.

Feeling his hand trail lower and lower, your breaths became more and more shallow. Case work be damned, you’d be an idiot to go back to working at a time like this.

“Bruce, this investigation was really important.” You mewed, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“If that’s the case, I think I deserve a little something in return, hm? Lemme look after you, angel.”

With that, you were pulled out of your chair and immediately brought to your feet. Strong thighs pressed themselves firmly against your bottom, leaving Bruce towering over you. 

His dominating aura was overpowering, and you were left heaving at the thought of all the ways he could take you, all the ways he could claim you.

All at once, he skillfully moved to pull at both your trousers and undergarments, leaving them pooling at your ankles. “Open your legs for me, love. I wanna see you.”

In all your glory there you were, lying chest down against your desk, pants to the floor, with your beloved husband practically rutting into you from behind.

You habitually arched your back, aching to be filled. Bruce sighed in pleasure, stepping back to take a look at his beloved spouse. Just the sight of you like this damn near made him go crazy.

His hands circled our waist, thumbs thoroughly messaging the small of your back, “I jus’ wanna help you out, baby. Would you like that? Hm? For me to fuck the stress out of you?”

“Yes Sir! Anything you want from me.”

As soon as the bedroom name hit his ears, Bruce let out an audible groan. As many cases you’ve solved in your career, you still didn’t have a single clue of the things you do to him.

Emphatically pulling at his belt, Bruce frantically released his throbbing member from his slacks. Violently spitting in his hand, he began stroking his arousal, lining it up with your tight opening.

He teased his cockhead around the swollen area, his pre-cum painting the heat between your legs. It was as though he was playing with you, as if you were some toy solely meant for his leisure.

Finally, after edging you for what felt like forever, he finally plunged inside of you. His sex speared into you with unrelenting vigor. Slowly, his shaft inched its way inside.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good that you wont be able to get up for work tomorrow,” his husky voice was leaving you in a trance, “Would you like that, angel? For this cock to take all your worries away?”

“Mhm, please sir,” your wanton moans were like music to his ears, as if the pearly gates of heaven were calling his name.

At your request, Bruce’s demeanor did a complete 180. His unrushed pace being switched out for something much more barbaric. Wet smacks could be heard throughout the room as his hips jerked into your swollen entrance.

The table shook at the force of his thrusts, leaving your pencil case to fall as a result. Papers were scattered about, some even sticking to the dampness of your skin. Your hands went to grip the edge of your desk, looking for something, anything to keep you stabilized.

“This is what you’ve been missing out on,” Bruce heaved, “This is what you could’ve had all those nights you decided to stay here and work.”

You practically begged him to slow down, the abuse to your hole was getting to be exhausting, “Bruce, mmn— ‘s too much.”

But your pleas fell on deaf ears, as his girth did nothing but continue its relentless assault. Your moans started to match his movements, pitch getting higher with each thrust.

“Shittt,” the hero groaned, “You're doing so good for me, sweetheart. Jus’ be good and lay there for me.”

His words were lulling you to sleep, that deep, velvety voice paired with his raspy grunts were more than soothing. Your lids started to get heavier by the second, you knew you were close. Any more of this and you were sure to tap out.

Your cheek was pressed against the surface below you. Eyes rolled so far back, it seemed like you could take a peek of your brain if you tried hard enough. It felt like your soul momentarily left your body as you started convulsing below him.

“Sir ‘m gonna, fuckkk, I’m coming!”

“There you go, love. Ease into it for me.” Although you were well over your limit, Bruce’s movements were still as vigorous as ever. 

You could tell he was close. As his thrusts got sloppier, your hips dug further into the edge of the desk, leaving marks along the surrounding skin.

“Broosh, please, I can’t ‘nymore. ‘M tired baby.” you babbled. Your barely formed words were only proof of how your consciousness was holding on by a thread.

“Shhhh. Just let me put you to rest, angel. Let your husband take care of you t’night.” Bruce’s cock throbbed, the thick appendage desperately looking for release.

Your entire body was limp by now, overstimulated beyond belief. It didn't even register how lifeless your legs were until you felt two arms scoop you up, hugging your midriff. You could just imagine how insane the scene must have looked, two grown adults humping over a table like a pair of wild dogs.

Eyes shut, you were nearly asleep at this point, the only sign of life from you were the light whimpers slipping past your plump lips. Your only purpose by now was to let your husband use you as he pleased, like some ragdoll.

Bruce couldn’t take it anymore. His movements stuttered as his senses came to a peak, “Mmm s-shit Y/N, just stay right there for me sweetheart, I got you.”

Once again, your insides fluttered as cum coated your insides. You felt his weight collapse on top of you as he tried to collect himself. Feeling him pull out, the thick, white liquid painted your skin as your hole throbbed from the aftershocks. 

Bruce’s member continued to pulsate, airy ‘ahs’ nd ‘mhms’ could be heard throughout the room. Bringing you down from you high, you heard a voice speak up from behind you, “You okay, darling? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Mm-mm,” you rumbled, not having the energy to give a real response. 

“Don’t give out on my yet, angel,” affectionately rubbing at your exposed skin, Bruce moved to tidy you up, “Let’s get you dressed so we can go home alright?”

Grabbing some spare napkins from a nearby tissue box, your doting husband wiped you down. He made sure to clean up every ounce of the thick cream dripping down your thighs.

Kneeling down, he moved to pull up your trousers, softly kissing the expanse of your legs along the way. You could barely react to his touch considering how spent you were.

As you wobbly stood to your feet, Bruce quickly went to pick you up bridal style, your head slugging against his firm chest.

Honestly, you should have known you would end up in this position the second he walked through the door.  As resistant as you were in the beginning, you can help but feel appreciative of Bruce’s actions, the love you have for him growing by the minute.

Unbeknownst to you, however, there was a reason your husband decided to surprise you tonight.

The case you had been working on, well there was a reason the forensic reports weren’t matching up. There had been a new villain roaming the streets of Gotham, and while Bruce didn’t know who he was yet, he knew he was more than dangerous.

As he placed you in the passenger’s seat, Bruce’s mind traveled to all the innocent lives that had been taken by the hands of this corrupt individual. He surely wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you ended up one of them.

Although he admired your determination, the dark knight knew better than to allow the love of his life to follow a path of such evil. 

So if this little “distraction” was the only way to throw you off their trail, then so be it.

a/n: feedback is always welcome and reblogs are always appreciated!! ilyyy

#this was such a learning experience tysm for requesting🙏🏿 #like i deadass forgot how to write smut #and i've never written gn smut either so i was lowkey stumped likeee😭 #anyways i js hope i did a good job lmao #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #dc x reader #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x gn!reader #detective!reader #batman x gn!reader #batman x reader #batman fanfiction #batman fanfic #batman smut #stressed!reader #dc smut #gn!reader #gender neutral!reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #writers on tumblr

[pali-writes-atiny-bit]

노래방 | The Noraebang

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader (Y/N)

Summary: When an outing with friends becomes a private show.

WC: 2.25k

Content Warning: daddy kink, pain kink (if you squint), unprotected piv, vaginal fingering, fingers in mouth, choking, pet names, semi-public sex, alcohol consumption. That might be all, please let me know if I missed anything.

You yawn and simultaneously stretch out your arms above your head and your legs beneath your desk. Your shoulder joints creak, your ankles crack, and you sigh - working a desk job really wears on your body. Straightening up your posture, you glance toward the clock above your desk which reads 16:30. Just half an hour more, you think. You can do that.

You get back to work sending out your last minute emails before the weekend and organizing your task list for Monday. You’re just finishing up when the clock hits 17:00. You smile and rush to pack your bag with your laptop and planner before making your way out of the building. 

It's Friday, which in of itself is cause for celebration. But it’s not just any Friday for you. Your boyfriend is back in town and due to the nature of his job, it’s been a couple months since you’ve seen each other. The two of you have plans to go out tonight with his friends and some of their girlfriends. You pop in your earbuds, start your favorite Stray Kids playlist and begin the 20 minute walk to the apartment.

You key yourself into the apartment and find that it is still dark and empty. You deflate just a little, you had been hoping he'd be home already. 

You place your keys in the bowl by the door, set your bag down, and take your shoes off before padding to the bedroom. You take your hair down from its twist and strip off your clothes, throwing them towards the hamper. 

Walking into the adjoined bathroom, you turn on the shower and step in. The cascading warm water feels heavenly after a long day of work. 

After relaxing for a few minutes, you get to work cleaning your whole body and shaving your legs and pussy bare. By the time you're done, the bathroom is steamed up and you're feeling pristine. 

You towel off before moisturizing and applying your favorite musk perfume to your pulse points. You've already selected your outfit for the night. A black lace bra and matching thong. A black pleated miniskirt paired with a black crop top and one of your boyfriend's flannels over top. 

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit with some silver chains and matching silver jewelry when you hear the door open and a familiar voice call out “Y/N! Baby, I'm home!”

You rush to the door and see your boyfriend in all his glory - blue jeans slung low on his hips, a plain white tee tight, and a black leather jacket. His arms are spread wide for a hug, and in one hand is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

“Channie!” you squeal, launching yourself into his arms, which promptly wrap tight around you. 

“Hi, babygirl,” he chuckles, rocking you side to side. “Did you miss me?”

You nod and say “yes,” but it comes out muffled from where your face is smushed into his chest. 

He laughs and squeezes you tighter. You stand there embracing each other for a while longer. You take a deep inhale of his cologne. A few tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You missed him so much and you feel a weight being taken off your shoulders simply with his return. 

When you finally pull away, your cheeks are a little damp. You wipe your face with the sleeves of the flannel before taking the bouquet that he's still holding. “These are absolutely gorgeous, Channie. Let me put these in some water and we can head out to meet the others.” 

You move into the kitchen and reach up into the cupboard to fetch a vase. As you reach up, your skirt rises with you, flashing your boyfriend with the swell of your ass.

“Is that what you're wearing?” he asks. “It's awfully short.” 

You laugh with a smirk. “I know.” 

You and Chan meet the other members at one of their favorite barbecue restaurants. It's less known and a little out of the way, but has great food and offers a little more privacy from the prying eyes of the public. Chan and the others became friends with the owners a little after their debut and have been frequenting the joint ever since. 

Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin are currently single and have come alone. You smile as you see the other three, Changbin, Felix, and Seungmin have brought their girlfriends as well. 

As loud as Changbin can be, his girlfriend is quiet. But she's kind and funny and you became friends with her quickly. Felix’s girlfriend is every bit as sweet as he is, it's impossible not to like her. And Seungmin’s girl, well, she's wicked smart and just as wickedly sassy. It's easy to see that they belong together.

Everyone greets you with a hug before heading inside. You all find seats around several grills and order several kinds of meat (bulgogi, galbi, samgyeopsal, etc). As the meat is being grilled and passed around, a few rounds of soju, maekju, and somaek also get passed around the tables.

Everyone is eating and drinking well and having a good time. You feel your body begin to flush from the alcohol coursing through your veins. You turn and press a kiss to Chan's bicep before leaning against him. He smiles down at you and places a hand on your thigh. 

His hand is big and veiny, and radiates a warmth that seems to travel straight to your cunt. You fidget in your seat and squeeze your thighs together. This only encourages him to slowly slide his hand higher. You grow wetter by the second, flushing from arousal as much as the alcohol.  

By the time his hand reaches the apex of your thighs, your panties are soaked. He extends his pinky, flexing it to brush your clit. You jolt a little at the bolt of pleasure that zings through you. Several heads turn to you and you blush. You wave them off, saying you just had a hiccup. 

Chan continues slowly rubbing your clit, bringing you higher and higher until you grab his wrist to stop him - you don’t want to cum here, in front of all of your friends. He stops, but his jaw clenches. He leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Baby girl, go to the bathroom and take off those ruined panties. Bring them back to me.” It’s not a request, but rather a command. He straightens back up and inconspicuously removes his hand from your thigh. At the same time, Seungmin’s girl suggests you all go to a noraebang and a chorus of raucous agreement erupts from around the table.   

While Chan goes to the front counter to pay, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You do your business before washing your hands and inspecting your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are flushed and rosy. You splash some cold water on your face and take a few deep breaths to steady yourself before quickly taking off your thong and balling it up in your hand. 

When you exit the bathroom, everyone else has gathered outside the building. You walk up to Chan and thread your arm through his. With one hand you point down the street and declare, “to the noraebang!” With the other hand you discretely press your panties into his waiting palm. He smirks and pockets them. 

“Good girl.”

It only takes your group a few minutes of walking to arrive at the noraebang. You all pay in advance for 3 hours. It’s been a long while since you were all together, and you all want to capitalize on this get together. 

You don’t think your voice is anything special, but Channie and the other members have never given you a reason to be self-conscious. So, you and the other girls sing your hearts out. The guys mostly watch, but participate in a few songs, even performing one or two Stray Kids songs.

As the night grows late, the others begin to tire and slowly leave. The other couples depart first to spend some time together. A little while later Hyunjin and Jeongin depart. Around midnight, Minho and Jisung also bid you and Chan goodnight. 

When it’s just the two of you left, Chan pats his lap and you climb on top, straddling him. He puts a hand behind your head and pulls you in for a kiss. It starts off sweet, chaste even, but quickly devolves into something more. 

The tip of his tongue flicks at your lower lip seeking entrance. You comply and part your lips. He plunges his tongue into your mouth - licking, caressing. You move your own tongue in tandem with his, dancing, fighting for dominance. The kiss becomes sloppy, filled with passion. 

You moan and grind your hips down onto his growing erection, the denim brushing against your clit just right. You increase the speed of your hips, your pleasure climbing. Before you can cum, Chan stops your hips with his hands. 

You whine. 

In a low voice he commands you, “stand up and turn around, babygirl.”

You hesitate for just a moment and his grip tightens in warning. When you stand and turn around, he bends you over.

“Such a naughty girl,” he says, smoothing a hand over the flesh now bared to him. You shiver and goosebumps form along your skin. 

“Wearing such a short skirt in public. I bet you just wanted to tease me, didn't you?” 

You don't answer, and he lands harsh slaps on first your right and then left ass cheek, in quick succession.

You cry out, in surprise more than pain, “yes!”

He lands another slap, “yes, what?!”

“Yes, daddy! I wanted to tease you,” you whimper. “I missed you.”

He pulls you back to sit on his lap. He hooks the back of your knees around his thighs and spreads his legs wide. Now you're spread wide too. You can feel his hard-on beneath you. 

He slips his left hand down to cup your bare pussy.

“You're soaking, babygirl. Dripping all over my fingers.” He withdraws his hand before bringing it down on your cunt with a loud, wet smack. Your hips jump and you gasp at the sharp sting.

“Shhhh, you gotta be quiet,” he says, bringing the hand to your mouth. 

He pushes two fingers into your mouth and you can taste yourself on them. He sinks two fingers from his right into your pussy, and when you moan loudly he pushes the fingers in your mouth deeper. They depress your tongue effectively gagging you.

Satisfied with your silence, he curls the fingers in your pussy curl into your spongy spot. He fingers you ruthlessly, hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

You're panting and saliva pools around Chan's fingers and drips down the sides of your mouth. Obscene squelching sounds emanate from between your quivering thighs. 

“Listen to that, beautiful,” he whispers in your ear. “Prettiest sound I've ever heard.” 

Your walls begin to clench and unclench rapidly as you rocket towards your climax. Chan removes his fingers and slaps your clit again. As soon as his fingers make contact, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you unravel. Your pussy flutters and your essence gushes from you. 

Before you come down from your high, Chan removes his fingers from your mouth to unbutton his jeans. He lifts you just high enough to free his cock. He slams you back down, burying himself to the hilt. 

The extra stimulation from his entry prolongs your orgasm and your walls clamp down around his cock.

“Fuck, pretty girl!” he grunts. “You're so fucking tight. I missed this pretty pussy so much.”

He wraps his right arm around your waist and sets a slow but punishing pace thrusting into you from below. The head of his cock bottoms out against your cervix with each thrust in and when he draws back it brushes against your g-spot deliciously.

“Ah-ah-ah…” you punch out a moan every time he thrusts in. “Chan…Chris…mmph…Daddy! So good!” 

Your delirious babbles form the lyrics to the sweetest song, the melody the slick sounds of your fucking. None of the songs you sang earlier could even compare.

“You're taking me so well, babygirl.” he croons breathlessly. He wraps the fingers of his left hand around your throat and feels how your walls pulse around him in response. You're on the precipice, so close to falling apart around him. “Hold on just a little longer, I'm gonna fill your pretty pussy up with my cum.”

He picks up the pace, pounding into you until he feels his balls begin to tighten and his cock twitch erratically inside you. He reaches his right hand down to your clit and begins rubbing fast circles while his left hand squeezes the sides of your neck lightly. “Cum with me.”

You ascend into euphoria, falling to pieces on his cock. Your eyes roll back into your skull for the second time that night. You squeeze around him like a vice and he releases himself inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum. You milk him until he's spent. 

You slump against him panting. He kisses the top of your head with a grin. “I love you, sweet girl. Let’s get you cleaned up and head home.”

A/N: y'all I don't really know what this is and I don't know if it's any good. But it was living in my brain while I was trying to write other things so here it is. Thanks to @daydreams-after-dark for encouraging this insanity

P.S. I promise I'm still working on other fics - I'm a slow writer

#skz fanfic #skz ff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids ff #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan smut

[corneliushickey]

#furiosa: a mad max saga #furiosa spoilers

ok i've spoken to a few friends about this but i wanna put my thoughts together more coherently in a single posté, so: furiosa (2024) removes any significance in furiosa's story arc in fury road (2015) by removing her complicity + culpability

in fury road, furiosa (like nux!!!) is a cog in the immortan's war machine. he calls her out by name to the crowd at the citadel. she drives the war rig, a machine so totally her own and so much a part of her that it bears her mark on the driver's side door. she enjoys a place of relative privilege and safety as an imperator, a position in which she carries out the immortan's orders and advances his cause of domination over the wasteland.

yes, she was taken from the green place as a child, separated from the vuvalini through no fault of her own. yes she was doing what she had to do to survive. but she was still culpable. her survival was still built on a pile of corpses. her survival was instrumental in the subjugation + opression of the citadel's citizens.

AND!! CRUCIALLY!!! rescuing the wives from the vault was not her idea!! it was angharad who rallied the wives together with miss giddy and begged for furiosa's help in escaping. she agreed to try the desperate mad dash for her lost homeland because angharad, dag, cheedo, toast, and capable recruited her for the job. before that, she had given up on returning home. she had lost herself in service of the war machine. this is why it also makes sense that capable would reach out to nux with sympathy and compassion, because she's already seen one war boy find redemption and rally for their cause, why not another?

that is why when furiosa learns that the lost promised land of her childhood is gone, it is meaningful that she, the wives, nux, and the remaining vuvalini can turn around and choose to change the citadel instead. because she goes from being a part of the war machine, to running from it and taking five of its victims with her, to turning around to dismantle it.

but in furiosa (2024), furiosa is kidnapped as a child and handed to one mad warlord who murders her mother, then handed to a second mad warlord who means to keep her locked in a vault until she is of a more appropriate age for him to rape. then she understandably makes a daring escape (for which she faces. zero narrative consequences. but whatever that's another post) and sort of hides out as a scrawny silent blackthumb until praetorian jack takes her under his wing and gives her the tools she needs to escape (tools she... would have already learned from the vuvalini and dementus and her life as a blackthumb but, again, whatever, that's another post)

throughout all this furiosa's only motivation is self preservation. she is a child trying to survive kidnapping after kidnapping, seeking revenge against the men who are doing this to her, and then once she proves to dementus that she is nothing like him she just sort of hangs out for a few years until she takes the impetus to bring the wives a peach as evidence of a possible return to paradise. and then she saves them.

but the whole point of fury road was that... the wives saved her. through them furiosa came back to herself. came back to her vuvalini values. came to find values of her own. decided to take a stand against the human suffering she had spent so long enabling. got the chance to build anew.

furiosa is not the protagonist of fury road if she is a blameless victim on an equal footing with the sex slaves she's rescuing. if she were totally uninvolved in the citadel, eeking out an existence as best she could until she had the opportunity to save five fellow innocents..... she would be max rockatansky. uninvolved but committed to helping those he meets in desperate need.

her story is more complex than that. it carries more weight. and unfortunately furiosa (2024) takes that away.

#mad max blogging #gonna write a part ii to this about why her confrontation with dementus #WHILE being one of my favorite scenes in the film.... also undermines her fury road arc #furiosa: a mad max saga

[drdemonprince]

I am very very attracted to my boss and it's driving me insane. There's this amazing chemistry and tension between us and all day long we're just teasing eachother and flirting. We're always gravitating towards eachother and happy to see eachother, finding excuses to work together, etc. He is, however, a straight man twice my age who has a girlfriend and I'm a trans guy who could be completely misreading our interactions. Straight guys often banter and "flirt" with eachother so maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe he's just excited to be some sort of a mentor figure to me and he likes to be admired, and likes to see me grow and learn, and that's all there is to it. He calls me his protege which I find incredibly hot. Anyway I'm seriously contemplating whether I should confess my attraction. I'm not really anticipating him to reciprocate, but would do it more so to get rejected so I would be able to stop fantasizing about him all day long and give myself some closure. On the other hand, I don't want to humiliate myself and create a possible distance or awkwardness between us. There would be no consequences for my job so that's not an issue. I was wondering if you have any words of wisdom for me? You always have such a unique yet sobering outlook on things and I would love to hear your thoughts on this situation.

"Unique yet sobering outlook"! That's the kind of compliment I would have put in the word document alongside all my favorite feedback from English professors back in the day when I still needed that. Sincerely, thank you.

I am of several minds with regard to your question. On the one hand, I think straight people are terminally monogamous most of the time and that it would be hell on earth to get involved with this man and draw the potential ire of his girlfriend even if they weren't.

I think it's usually a self-hating maneuver to date a straight man as a trans masc (I have been there, it is terrible) but as a gay man, I support the frisson of danger that comes with seducing a heterosexual and think it would be a baller little feather in your cap to ruin this man's identity and relationship for a fling with you, even if it would be destined to end in agony.

I hear that this misadventure will not affect your job, but I don't exactly understand how that could be true. It sounds as if you work together quite closely and that his flirty banter is part of what makes the gig pleasant, and even if he doesn't have the capacity to fire you (I'm guessing) this affair could devastate the vibe enough that someone else might step in and fire you for its indirect consequences. happens sometimes.

Part of me however does believe in "fuck it we ball" and in being a bit reckless when you find yourself in a moment of raw, transfixing chemistry. chasing after fascinating moments that are destined to shatter our hearts is one of the core aspects of being alive. It keeps us growing, fills us with vigor! Who doesn't want to one day have an interesting story of a love affair like that?

One of my follow up questions would be how rare this kind of connection is for you. If it were me? Someone I truly connect with on the level you are describing is rare, and I've been willing to risk upending my life as i know it over a fleeting few weeks or months of passion before, and sometimes it's been worth it! Some mistakes are worth making, because we will become stronger and more interesting people after they happen!

But another part of me also thinks "straight men flirt with eachother sometimes" makes no sense and that what you are likely experiencing is him not seeing you as a man, or doing the thing some sensitive straight guys do of leeching attention off of queer men to feed their egos. (Which isn't evil, we all need attention sometimes, but it can be devastating.). If he lets you down because he sees you as a man and is not gay, that might relieve the pressure for you and work out fine. If he is into you because he doesn't see you as a man, you two will fuck and it will be horrible in the long term probably. But maybe hot in the short term.

I also think there are probably hotter ways to play this one (and more strategically effective ones) than a straight-up love confession, which would probably force him to bring up his girlfriend as the reason not to pursue it.

I think if you really want to SEDUCE this man you should spend time with him after work, ask him to mentor you on a labor intensive but potentially rewarding project, disclose little personal details that endear him to you, ask him lots of questions about himself, allow him to open up to you about his life... and then strike.

I think it'll be interesting if you go for it, at least. I certainly want to hear the story. But I don't want you to get fired, lose a mentorship that is important to your career, or get your ass beat by the gf.

So I will also tap my followers for their feedback.

[personne-writes]

A ROTTMNT contribution to the Turtles Together zine

Alternate realities

----- I'm very proud to present to you my poem for the @turtlestogetherzine! The physical copies have already all been sold in leftover sales, but you can still buy the digital bundle here if you'd like. I'd recommand reading it on AO3, but if you'd rather stay here, be my guest! -----

Four brothers hang out under the clouded moon, Basking in New York City’s noises and light. They talk and they laugh on a roof out of sight; It’s too late for duty – and for sleep, too soon. They may be teenagers but at their center Lay powers and forces that never tire,  Sparks of energy, everlasting fire –  Often at the service of quips and banter.  The Blue one gushes about a job well done, The smile of the Red one is nothing but proud, The Orange one wonders silly things out loud Of which Purple knows much, yet kindly says none. “If everything changed,” Orange suddenly asks,  “In another life, or place, or world, or time Would we keep our colors? Would we still wear masks? Would we still be ninja turtles fighting crime?” Red and Blue whistle and start theorizing Orange happily helps their ideas fuse But Purple falls silent. His pulse is rising.  Science is calling. Who is he to refuse?

Between dearest walls, he retreats with his tools In one hand a pen, in the other a cup Both needed for work – he doesn't make the rules. Hours become days, still the math won't add up. As he struggles hard to make equations fit Something starts nudging at the back of his mind.  He is close – to what? He cannot quite name it Then, in a split second, dimensions unbind. 

It feels like his thoughts Are now being shared.   He tries to reach out. Perhaps, if he dared –   

Contact. Confusion. New realities. Alternate versions. Other families.

He sees things that he doesn't remember Unknown memories blending together.

Echoes of voices, Tales ancient and new All of them are his; All of them are true.

His instincts kick in The gears start to spin Narrowing on – There! The thing they all share –

Struggle. Everywhere. Missions, miseries Mortal ennemies Pressure and anger Menace and danger

Every version of him Every version of them They all stand. They all bite. They all dread and they all fight.

And Purple flinches. Can this be their essence? Responsability over insouciance Honor and duty against opposition Sacrifice for all without recognition?

No. That can't be it. This isn't who they are, Their fate can't be written with tears shed so far. In his heart, he knows there must be something more; With a switch, e feels it, pulising at the core.

The bad and the good things flow from the same source And he shifts and pushes to swim up its course. It all comes from a place of fondness and care The urge to take risks, to protect and repair The sense of justice and the dedication All boundless affection in demonstration.

The feeling is strong. As he follows its trace, The fragments of truth at once click into place. There, clear as day, is the universal law: Accross dimensions, the Turtles don't withdraw.

Lightheaded, Purple comes back to his senses. His lab feels too small; he needs wider spaces. He goes to the kitchen – the pizza smells nice Watches his brothers fight over the last slice Leans in the doorway and finds himself staring. His soul is catching up; his heart is flaring.

The familiar shouts of loss and victory Help him se the fabric of reality. No matter the world, no matter the plots twists In every timeline, his family exists.

The rift between their universes is crossed; Everywhere, there are green heroes in the night There are masks and colors even when all's lost There are sparks and fire ever shining bright

Faith stronger than doubt, Trust louder than fear Hope warmer than drought Love closer than near.

------

Thanks for reading! This was my first experience being in a fanzine and I must say it was quite the first time. I'm still astonished at the sheer quality of each and every contribution, but also at the professionalism and efficiency of the mods, not to mention everyone's enthusiasm through the whole project! All my thanks again to the Turtles Together zine team for letting me in and my regards to all my fellow contributors out there, keep being awesome guys <3

#turtles together zine #tt zine #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #my writing #writing #poem #original content

[bobafetts-princess]

Surprise: The Sequel

Pairings: Ghost x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: PiV, we wrap shit up in this one, a little butt stuff, spit kink, biting, cursing, choking. Reader is a little subby here. This is a fic centered on the reader ovulating and being really horny. Heed warnings accordingly.

Author notes: Yes, this was written when I personally was ovulating and I needed an outlet. Please enjoy 😊

Companion piece to Surprise

“My back fucking hurts,” you grumble to yourself, not really meaning for anyone to hear. But Soap, with his fucking bat ears, does.

“Wan’ me to massage it for yah?” He drawls in his thick Scottish accent. He’s been eying you all day and you can’t figure out why. You’re not dressed any different, you didn’t do your hair any different. You didn’t flirt with him, at least anymore than normal. Soap is the type of guy you can flirt with without realizing it. He’s soft and easy-going with a big personality and the ability to make anyone feel special.

“Mind your business, Soap,” snaps Simon-Ghost-Lieutenant (you’re not really sure what to call him anymore) as he comes in the door. You’re sitting at a desk, writing reports on your latest mission and Soap is at his desk on the left of yours, writing his own.

“Aye L.T. But I do feel like her business is my business,” he chuckles and Ghost flicks him a look as he gets up.

“Why’s your back hurt, Blue?” Ghost asks, hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Not sure, L.T.,” you say but then a cramp hits your lower belly. It’s not your period, definitely not your period, that was two weeks ago. So this means- “Damnit,” you curse under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Both men ask at the same time, Soap moving to stand by Ghost. Another cramp hits your stomach and you have to stifle a groan.

“Nothing important,” you tell them both but they don’t believe you. But Price walks in, looking for an update on the reports and the subject is dropped. He’s standing over your shoulder and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking down at you, the easy way he smiles at you.

“Looking good today, Blue. Did you do something different with your hair?” Price mentions and you know he doesn’t mean it to be creepy. He’s genuinely trying to be nice and give you a compliment, you don’t get many when your literal job is to commit crimes for the sake of queen and country. But you know the real reason he’s looking at you different.

Your ovulation cycle hits harder than your menstruation cycle, the older you get. Your cramps are worse and men tend to notice you more. They flirt with you easier, they check you out with more purpose. Your skin clears and has this tone to that makes you look perpetually flustered. It’s all very flattering but also, quite annoying. Biology is doing its work, but you don’t want it to. The thing that drives you most insane is that you preen under the attention. You like being noticed when you’re ovulating. You like the way Ghosts eyes are dragging across your hips. You like the easy smile Johnny gives you when he’s flirting. You like the way Price’s eyes struggle to stay in their rightful place.

“Nah, just brushed it this morning, that’s all Captain,” there’s a flash of something in his eyes when you call him by his rank but you can’t unpack it right now. You stand, surprising Price and mumble “I’ll be back,” before you bolt.

Ghost waits an appropriate amount of time before he follows, shoving back his chair with some lame excuse so he can follow you.

He finds you in seconds, heading down the hallway in the general direction of his quarters. As a lieutenant, he gets his own space and as he watches your hips sway he’s thankful for it.

“Blue,” he calls out and you still.

“Not now, Ghost,” you say but you don’t move. His long strides catch up to you in no time and his hand presses into your back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, and you sigh.

“I’m ovulating,” you tell him, pressing into his hand and relishing the feel of his warmth.

“What’s that mean?” He knows that’s your fertile period and you can get pregnant but he’s not sure on the specifics.

“I’m so horny,” you whine, twisting your neck to look up at him and he wants to dip down and run his nose alone the soft skin there. It takes your words a second to click but when they do, he’s shoving you down the hallway and into his room, locking the door behind him.

———————————

Ghost has you on your knees and you’re taking him. Your pussy is slick with your orgasms and your back is slick with sweat. You’re dropped down to your chest on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as you cry out. It’s not helping though, because every one of Simon’s powerful thrusts pushes you up the bed.

“This fuckin’ pussy,” he snarls from under his mask. Since that day in the shower you’ve had this tryst going on regularly and it’s been satisfying for the both of you. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he grunts as his hand presses into your shoulders to hold you down. “Love when you submit to me,” he says but you think you can take it a step further. You move your hands from the sheets to behind your back, gripping your forearms as your face presses into the bed. Simon groans deeply as he slides his hand down your back to press down on your forearms. “Look so pretty takin’ my cock like this, Blue,” he snarls and you know he’s getting close. You’ve already cum several times, so you’re not concerned about finishing when he does, but Simon is. His hips ratchet up a notch and you hear the distinctive sound of something in Simon’s mouth. You’re about to peek over your shoulder to see what he’s doing when his thick thumb presses up against your asshole. You gasp and still underneath him as he presses circles into the tight ring.

“I’d love to watch you take me here,” he grunts before he pushes his thumb in. Your whole body tenses but you’re pinned. His hands are still pressing your own into your lower back and his finger in your ass is up to the first knuckle. You’re going to lose your mind, you can’t even scream because your face is pressed into the mattress. He continues pressing until he’s got his whole thumb in your ass and you’re gone. You’re so full, so thoroughly worked over that you when Ghost-Simon-whatever you’re calling each other these days, picks up his thrusts you’re blind with pleasure.

He’s putting you through the mattress, his hulking body pressing yours down. You break first, your body clamping down as you cum. He’s so heavy, so thick, and you’re so overwhelmed but Ghost isn’t done yet. He’s growling deep in his throat, snarling something about what a good little slut you are for him and you know he’s right at the edge of breaking. You feel something sharp against your shoulder and it takes you a few seconds to realize he sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He’d apparently never pulled his mask down after he’d wet his thumb and you feel his tongue soothe the sharp sting his bite left. You lay like that for a second, Ghost’s body laying across yours as you both pant with the exertion. Simon’s tongue licks a hot trail across your shoulder and up your neck, stopping at your ear.

“You’re a good fuck, Blue. Y’know that?” You laugh aloud because any kind of compliment coming from Simon Riley is noteworthy.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” you flash a grin at him as he peels off of you, moving to dispose the condom. He comes back and his mask is still pushed up to his nose and his grin would’ve knocked you over if you weren’t already laying down.

“Not so bad, eh? Do I need to split you apart on my cock again so you know how good I can be?” He chuckles, dark and dangerous as he crawls on the bed and stares down at you. His huge hand finds your throat, squeezing and reminding you just how dangerous he can be. But the only thing you feel right now is another how streak of lust through your nerve endings. Your nipples are tight and when he flicks them, a sharp gasp escapes your mouth. Ghost takes the opportunity at hand and pulls you up to him by the throat, shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed but it’s one of the only. You can feel him hardening against your thigh and you can feel how slick you are. His fingers squeeze as he trails his lips down your neck, over where his thumb is digging into the soft flesh.

You’re aching, ready to be filled again, when Ghost speaks in your ear.

“I want to taste you, Blue,” he grunts but you shake your head as best you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Later. Want your cock,” you tell him and he nods, releasing you to get another condom. You desperately want to tell him not to use one, but you are smack in the middle of ovulating and the risk of pregnancy is much higher than if you weren’t. You’re not in a place where you can have a baby and you don’t think Simon is ready to be a father, he may not ever be. But god, the idea of dripping with his cum all day? It’s got you clenching between your legs.

Simon has the condom on, cock swinging between his thick thighs. He’d only managed to get his pants down to his knees the first time and the second time won’t be any different. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on bearing the British Army flag on it and even without all his tac gear he’s huge. Tall and bulky, with a menacing edge to him, you can see why people are terrified. But right now, all you are is horny. He slides between your thighs, lifting your hips and placing a pillow underneath them.

“Gonna take me?” He asks, circling a finger over your clit. You nod but he’s not content with that. “I asked you if you were going to take me, I expect an answer,” he growls from under his mask, pulled back down now.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you breathe as he presses the head of his cock into you.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what?” He snaps, one hand on your tit, the other on the base of his cock.

“Yes, Lieutenant,-“ you gasp as he pushes into you.

“Go on,” he prompts, almost all the way in now. “Or I won’t fuck you. You can lay here and be my pretty little cock sleeve,” you clench around him, wishing he’d wrap one of those big hands around your throat again.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I’m gonna take all of your cock. Please, I want to take all of your cock.”

“Good girl,” he growls, low in your ear as his hand wraps back around your throat. His thrusts start slow but it doesn’t take long before he’s hitching one thigh up his back, the other pressing you down and pushing you to your limits. He’s more vocal this time, grunts and growls as he sits back on his heels to give himself more leverage. He’s got to be sensitive, it’s the second time in less than 30 minutes, and it shows. His fingers tighten every couple thrusts until you nearly can’t breathe but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. The other hand finds your tits, groping them and pulling at your nipples. He presses the thumb of the hand around your neck into your jaw until your mouth pops open. He pulls the mask above his mouth, leaning down, his eyes wide with question and you nod at him, sticking your tongue out in invitation. He gathers in his mouth before he leans down, spitting directly into your mouth before he closes your jaw and speaks.

“Swallow it.” You do as he asks, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show him. He groans deeply, gathering his spit again and spitting on your tongue. This time though, he keeps his thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw so you don’t close it. “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, his accent thicker as he pounds into you, “take everythin’ I fuckin’ give ya, don’t ya?” You nod desperately at him, mouth still open, tongue still covered in his spit. “Fuck yeah, ya do. I’m goin’ to cum, I know you’re close.” You nod at him again, pussy tightening as he spits into your mouth again, closing your jaw and telling you to swallow.

“Next time you’re gonna swallow my cum jus’ like that,” he tells you before he leans back, pressing a thumb against your clit. It only takes one, two, three swipes of his thumb before you’re over the edge, crying out his name and clinging to the hand still wrapped around your throat. He follows right along with you, slumping his heavy body against yours. “This will never get old,” he says as he rolls to the side slightly, still laying on you but not quite with his full weight.

“Yeah,” you agree, out of breath and worn down. Finally sated.

“Is it always like this when you ovulate?” He asks, picking himself up and disposing of the condom, for the second time. You nod as he comes back and picks up your underwear off the floor.

“It gets worse as I get older, like evolution is telling me to get a move on.” You stand as Simon holds your hand and helps you into your panties. “My cramps get worse and I get almost unbearably horny,” you tell him as he hunts down your tac pants and helps you into those too. He chuckles as he finds your sports bra, slipping it over your head.

“Maybe you should pop out a kid or two,” and your jaw drops.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll drop my whole life and have babies! Ruin my career, my tits, everything I’ve worked for just to give evolution the middle finger!” You exclaim, annoyed he’d even suggest it. But he’s fully laughing, searching for your shirt under the bed.

“I’s a joke, love. You don’t take those as well as you take my cock,” he husks, finding the army green tank and slipping it over your head. “Besides, it would be a shame to ruin these perfect tits,” he tells you, standing behind you and cupping said perfect tits. Fuck, you didn’t think you could go again but the way his thumbs are brushing over your nipples right now is making you question that. “Well, we better get back to writin’ our reports. Price’ll wonder why we’ve been gone so long,” he says, slapping you on the ass and striding out the door. You’re left panting and annoyed, but you follow after a reasonable amount of time and when you make it back to your desk, Soap is standing next to it looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Aye, lass. Y’look good today. Exceptional even,” he drawls, and if you weren’t rolling your eyes you’d have noticed his own flick over to Ghost to gauge his reaction.

“Get off my desk, Johnny.”

“Will do, but would ya like t’have a drink with me tonight?” He’s leaned down, in your space, his bright eyes full of mischief.

“No.” You tell him, you’re not really annoyed with him but you are frustrated because Ghost left you horny and every bit as distracted as you were before he fucked you stupid. Your hand flashes out and connects with the inside of Soaps elbow, knocking him off his balance. Ghost chuckles from behind you at his own desk.

“Might wanna leave the girl alone, Johnny. I think she could kick your ass,”

“Ooh I might like that,” Johnny says, not fazed at all that you hit him. Ghost has to suppress a groan at the idea of watching you and Johnny wrestling for dominance. He’s pretty sure you would win and the idea of you fucking Johnny stupid the way he fucks you stupid has him hardening in his pants.

“Johnny,” you start, your voice all sugar sweet and sticky. “Can you do something for me?” Your tone is full of promise and Johnny’s eyes droop as he mutters a gentle ‘of course, lass’

“Go get me some Tylenol and coffee, Johnny,” you say, smacking him upside the head. Simon barks a laugh from behind you, and Johnny looks graciously indignant.

“Aye, lass. Whatever you want,” he’s no actually offended, but he played the part well. Off he slinks, to retrieve the items you’ve asked for and Ghost feels a rush of relief that he’s not the only person in this compound that cares for you.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod smut #call of duty smut

[outermaybanks]

i was thinking if mean!jj x kook!reader,

jj works for reader and she gets on his nerves but he kinda likes her and she teases him sometimes but little does he know she kinda likes him too

i LOVE mean JJ

a/n: soooo I loved this request so much that it kind of took on a mind of its own and became wayyyy too long, so this is part 1, part 2 coming soon after i proofread and edit. but also if this isn't quite what you were requesting PLS let me know I love this pairing and dynamic and would fully be willing to try again

part two posted

This summer was supposed to be your summer. Your dad had bought you your dream car, a whole new wardrobe, and your parent’s 15th anniversary fell in the middle of July, and this year you were promised the house to yourself for that week while your parents took a second honeymoon. 

But then, your dad hired none other than the infamous JJ Maybank to work for him this summer. 

Now, normally, you would have no problem with your dad hiring a Pogue to work around the house, both of JJ’s friends, Pope Heyward and John B Routledge had worked small jobs for him in the past, but JJ was practically your worst nightmare when it came to your plans. You had planned for this summer to be the best ever, to be the height of your social life, and now, the most big mouthed, impulsive, Kook-hating and downright rude Pogue to ever grace the OBX was working in your house five days a week.

So, you naturally came to one conclusion: You had to get JJ to quit before your parent’s trip in the middle of July.

June 10th

It started small, ignoring him when he was there, it was no secret that JJ hated Kooks, so you figured being as rude as he assumed you to be would be easiest. But honestly, it seemed like JJ liked that you ignored him, so you had to kick it up a bit. 

“Hey Pogue!” You called as you stepped out of your mansion, clad in only a bikini as you prepared to enjoy your pool. JJ released the gas on the lawn mower to make it stop as his jaw clenched and he put on his most tolerable face. “When you finish with the lawn, you need to change the oil in my car.”

“In case you didn’t get the memo, princess, I work for your dad, not you,” JJ called before reaching for the pull cord. You made your way down the steps and over to him just as he began tugging the cord, but you stood right in front of the mower, so JJ begrudgingly released the bar again.

“In case you didn’t get the memo, my daddy does anything I say. Daddy has fired workers for making my food wrong, so really, you work for me, princess. Got that?” You asked with a sickeningly sweet smile. JJ’s lower jaw stirred then clenched into a forced smile. “You got it, ma’am.” “That’s better, Maybank.”

You didn’t like being mean, and you didn’t like asserting power over others, that’s why you didn’t just follow through on your word and tell your dad to fire JJ. You knew he needed this job, and you didn’t want to close that window for him permanently, but this was a man who was known for getting into fights, especially with Kooks, a man who you already knew hated you, and now he was standing in the way of your summer plans. JJ being here meant half the Kooks you knew wouldn’t step foot on the property just to avoid drama, or avoid upsetting their boyfriends. You just needed your summer back. If you could just get JJ to quit for the summer, you’d have your daddy offer him more money to come back in the fall. Really, a win win for everybody.

You weren’t naive to the rumors around the island about JJ, and as you walked towards your lounge chair on the edge of the pool, you couldn’t help turn your head to catch a glimpse of JJ’s arms as he yanked the starter cord to resume mowing the back lawn. 

June 17th

A week had passed since that encounter, and JJ showed no signs of quitting. He was currently cleaning your pool as you were inside, in the cool AC, as your mom had the house chef make you lunch. The house chef liked to listen to noise while they worked, so from you sat at the island, sipping a pina colada, you heard the weatherman announce the heat wave that was currently plaguing the Outerbanks. Despite everything, you found yourself looking out the window to JJ, shirtless as he used the pool skimmer.

You groaned to yourself as you couldn’t bring yourself to cruelty. You went to the fridge and grabbed a cold water bottle before sliding the glass door open.

“Hey Maybank!” You called, making JJ look up. You held up the water bottle then gentle tossed it to him. JJ dropped the pool skimmer to catch it, and then inspected the water bottle before opening it. He gave it a test sniff, which make you giggle, before he took a sip.

“Thanks, Kook.” “Just y/n works, y’know. Unless you want to go back to calling me princess,” You joked, walking closer to him, your lips wrapping around the straw to sip your pina colada as JJ downed the water bottle. 

“Can I ask you something?” You asked suddenly, surprising yourself that you had actually spoken your thoughts aloud. “What?” JJ replied coldly, looking at you suspiciously. “Why did you start working for my dad? Everyone knows you hate Kooks, I figured that meant you’d want to stay as far away from them as possible.” “Well, firstly, don’t assume you know anything about me. Secondly- you’re right. I do hate Kooks. Your dad was offering more than anyone else, that’s all.” “Really? Extra money is all it takes to abandon your morals?” “See, that’s it right there. To you, it’s extra money. To me, it’s survival. All you damn Kooks wouldn’t know shit about struggling. But god forbid you don’t have a brand new dress to wear to your weekly Courtillion or some shit.”

“Cotillion,” You corrected. “Which is only for debuntants, which I am not.”

“What the fuck ever. The point is, you think you know real struggle, so when you see someone actually struggling, you don’t give a fuck, but the truth is you’ve never had a real problem. Rich people make up their own problems so they don’t get bored, and then act entitled to people who actually struggle, it’s fucking annoying,” JJ finished before picking the pool skimmer back up. His words felt like a slap in the face, but you took them to heart. That night, you went to your dad and told him he needed to pay JJ more. 

June 20th

“Chug, chug, chug!” The amalgamation of voices cheered on as Kelce and Topper shotgunned a beer. Since you couldn’t invite your friends to your house, you had gone over to your friend’s house for some fun, but then she got a text about a get together at the beach, so that’s where you found yourself. 

“Hey, y/n, what’s this I hear about JJ Maybank working for your dad or something?” A girl named Hannah asked. “Yeah, he started a few weeks before summer break,” You answered. “Ooooo,” The girl teased. “Has he been… putting the work in?” You rolled your eyes, a sick feeling forming in your stomach at her words. “That’s so- It’s not like that. I barely speak to him,” you answered, bringing your beer can to your lips, hoping that would end the conversation. “You’re better than me, girl. On the first day I would’ve jumped his bones.”

It disgusted you to hear Hannah reduce JJ down to his looks, to his sexual reputation. You couldn’t help but remember what JJ had said about all Kooks feeling entitled.  

“Actually, Hannah, he’s like, really cool, and smart, and… passionate about his hobbies. He’s not just a dick for you to jump on,” Honestly, you pulled all of that out of your ass, but you just couldn’t let her speak about JJ like he was a piece of meat.

Hannah laughed. “And you learned all of that by barely speaking to him? Yeah, sure, y/n, it’s okay, your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t want everyone to know I was boning a Pogue either.” That was your limit. You quickly excused yourself, and when no one was looking, you left the beach.

Unfortunately, your friend had driven you, so you were stuck walking home. Whatever. You couldn’t stand to be there another moment.

JJ had been off that day as well, so he had spent the day with his friends, and they were currently on their way back to John B’s house. Just as JJ had put his blunt between his lips, about to spark it, his night was ruined.

“Hey, is that y/n y/l/n?” John B asked as he slowed down the Twinkie to get a better look.  “Yeah, yeah, it is,” Pope answered. “Stop the van.” “What? Why? She can walk just fine,” JJ argued. “It’s dark out and she’s walking alone,” John B answered. “So? She’ll be fine.”

“JJ.” John B scolded before pulling the van over beside you. You recognized John B’s van from when it was parked in your driveway when John B worked on your dad’s boat. “Hey, y/n, you alright?” John B asked after he rolled the window down. 

“I- Yeah, I just… my car ran out of… oil… so… walking.” Your lie pricked up JJ’s ears, as he had practically become your personal mechanic, he knew there was nothing wrong with your car because he had checked it before going home yesterday.

“Do you need a ride?” Pope asked from the passenger seat.

You couldn’t get JJ’s words out of your mind. Kooks create their own problems because they’re bored.

“No, no, really, I’m fine… Um, but my phone died, do you- um- Do you know how I would get home from here?” The beach you guys had gone to had been on the border of the Cut and Figure Eight, you had never ventured that far before. 

Of course she doesn’t even fucking know her way around, JJ thought. He argued with himself in his mind before leaning forward between John B and Pope. “Just get in, princess, we’ll get you home.”

It had shocked you to suddenly see JJ, although you suppose it shouldn’t have considering the three of them had been joined at the hip for as long as you’d known them. Before you could get  out a response, the van door slid open, and JJ was beckoning you inside. You stood there, frozen.

“y/n, c’mon, your dad would have my ass if he found out I left you out here alone, just get in.”

You slowly got inside the back of the van, JJ slammed the door shut as he leaned back on the bench. You noticed the unlit blunt between his fingers.

“Is that weed?” You asked. JJ sighed. “You caught me, princess, but I’m off the clock, I would never smoke while-” “Can I hit that?”

JJ was taken aback, and his first instinct was to get defensive, why the hell would he share his bud with a Kook? But he realized, if you took a hit, he’d have just as much dirt on you as you had on him, so he happily handed it over. You carefully put it between your lips then held your hand out for a lighter, but JJ would be damned if a Kook stole his favorite lighter, so he lit it for you. He was surprised by how naturally you inhaled the smoke, and how relaxed you looked as you exhaled. JJ then realized how little he actually knew about you, but then, he got angry with himself for thinking that.

“So what happened? Chad didn’t ask you to Cotillion?” JJ asked coldly, but you smiled to yourself because he said it right this time.  “I already told you I’m not a debutant, and who the fuck is Chad?” You couldn’t help but giggle as you took a second hit, then handed the blunt back to JJ.  “You know what I mean.” “Yeah, I do. That was your sneaky way of asking me what’s wrong,” you called him out.  “You wish,” JJ replied flatly before taking a hit. “Actually, since you asked, I didn’t like how a girl there was talking about you, so I left.” “I didn’t ask.” “Mmm kind of seems like you did.”

Pope chuckled from the front seat, taking your attention for a minute, and when you turned back to look at JJ, he seemed deep in thought.

“If I’m being honest, hearing her talk that way about you reminded me about what you said about Kooks the other day, and… I didn’t want to be around people who act like that.” “Huh. Didn’t think you Kooks listened to non-Kooks.” “Well, maybe you shouldn’t assume you know anything about me,” you threw his words back at him, making him raise an eyebrow at you.

After John B dropped you off, you charged your phone and had dozens of missed texts and calls from your friends, but you couldn’t care less. That night, all you could think about was JJ Maybank.

July 1st

After John B gave you a ride home, JJ ignored you even more. You had half a mind to throw away your plan, JJ’s words had haunted you and you didn’t want to be the type of person he described, but on the other hand, there was a part of you that had spent way too long trying to fit in, you couldn’t throw it away over one boy’s opinion, so you settled for a happy medium.

JJ’s bike was parked in the driveway, so you knew he was working today. You eventually spotted him in the back, working on your dad’s boat, so you mustered up your courage and boarded the boat, walking over to him with crossed arms. 

“Maybank,” You greeted. “Y/L/N,” JJ mimicked, keeping his eyes on the tools in his hand. “I’ve come to you with a deal.” “Oh yeah? And what would that deal be?” “You can’t be here at all for the week that my dad’s gone. I’ll tell him you came, you’ll still get paid, just don’t actually come.” “Am I supposed to believe that you’ll be doing all my work during that week?” “I- Fuck it, fine, yeah, I’ll do your job for the week.”

This took JJ by surprise. No Kook ever was willing to get their hands dirty.

“Why do you need me gone for that week?” “Because I’m throwing a party,” JJ was already laughing. “I’m serious, I’m throwing a party, and half my girlfriends can’t come because their boyfriends don’t want them around you.” “Smart guys,” JJ retorted, making you cringe. “Whatever. Do we have a deal?” “Like I’d want to be here anyway.”

You smiled, this was the best of both worlds, truly the best case scenario, and in your happiness you wrapped your arms around JJ’s shoulders, but he pulled away, tensed up, and then it hit you. You had grown comfortable with him, and that was your mistake. It didn’t matter that you gave him water, it didn’t matter that him and his friends had been your heroes, JJ Maybank hated Kooks. 

July 4th

“Sweetheart!” Your dad called from his office, you quickly made your way down the hall and leaned against the doorframe. You were already dressed for your family’s annual barbeque, which had become a big even on Figure Eight. 

“What’s up, dad?”  “Can you tell JJ he can go home early today after he cleans the pool?” You nodded and went downstairs to the backyard, once again finding JJ shirtless as he cleaned the pool.

“If you’re trying to get my mom to leave my dad for you, this whole thing won’t work, she prefers construction workers,” You said as you shut the door behind you, JJ looked up at you, but the only response was a confused face. “You know, the whole- hot shirtless pool cleaner has an affair with the lady of the house, that whole trope.”

A smile slowly crept on JJ’s lips, but then it turned into a smirk. “Did you just call me hot, y/n?” You quickly realized your mistake. “You know what I mean.” “Yeah, that was your sneaky way of flirting with me.”

Normally, you would’ve denied it, but this was the nicest JJ had ever been to you, which wasn’t saying much, but you liked it more than his constant ignoring you.

“So, my dad told me to come out here to tell you you can leave after you clean the pool,” you said. “Sounds good to me.”

That should’ve been your cue to go back inside, but instead you stood there, biting your lip as you internally argued with yourself.

“Do you have any plans for today?” JJ’s eyes came up to glance at you, almost suspiciously, “Uh, probably light a bunch of shit on fire.” “Well, my family has this like annual barbeque-” “Yeah, I know. Kie’s stuck going.” “Well… I just wanted to say if-if you wanted to stop by, a lot of my dad’s employees usually come.” “Thought you wanted to keep me far away from all your Kook friends, isn’t that our little deal?” JJ said, and in a panic you walked closer to him, trying to shush him so your dad didn’t hear. “That’s just for that party, and I wouldn’t even care about you being there if you didn’t start a fight with basically every Kook you meet.” “Who says I started it?”

That shocked you. Hearing your friend's stories, it had never occurred to you that they always omitted how the fight started, only how it had ended.

“Regardless, I just wanted to say if you wanted to stop by… it might be cool.” “Might be cool?” “God, do you always make it this hard for people to talk to you? Yes, JJ, it might be cool. It’s a barbeque, not a cult initiation.”  JJ chuckled. “Okay… Maybe I’ll come by. You might want to hide your mom though, I look good in a construction vest.” You smiled then bit down on your lip to hide it. “Okay. Maybe I’ll see you.”

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

the hungering hearts

circle IV: heresy

It’s an addictive thing. Not the blood, not the sex. But to be trusted so deeply.

kanej vampire au/ read on ao3

*

People on the corridors and stairs of the Slat exchange knowing looks above Inej’s head when she passes them and think she cannot see it. They are inherently wrong about that; they are also wrong in thinking she cares about their opinions in the first place.

All these dirty thugs and petty thieves holding themselves above her because she used to earn her wages on her back. It’s pathetic, really. It’s even more pathetic that they consider her a whore still, just something to warm their bosses’ bed, a canary he keeps for his amusement.

And what about her amusement?

She opens the door to the office that used to be Per Haskell’s without knocking and closes it firmly behind herself, thinking, with a surge of sweet satisfaction, that she’s the only one who can get away with it.

Kaz, seated on a low chair in front of an easel, spares her a glance and a half-smile, before turning back to the painting in front of him. He has a brush in his hand, its bristles thin like a strand of hair. His gloves are nearly laid out on the desk.

And he shrugged off his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. For Kaz, it’s a close thing to being naked.

She leans against the wall, watching him work for a moment. The afternoon light, weak enough that it doesn’t hurt him, falls inside the room through the window and basks him in pale yellow. His hair, overdue for a cut, gets into his eyes now and then and he brushes it off with his wrist; a distracting gesture, drawing her attention to wry muscles flexing in his forearm, to the graceful line of his shoulders. And it’s a spectacle in itself, his face; the way concentration carves the furrow of his brow, the lines in his forehead, the tight-pressed curl of his lips. His eyes are the color of the Suli tea, spiced with nutmeg and cloves, served with honey. In between each movement, he is so still that it tugs on something animalistic within her brain, a long-forgotten instinct to flee or fight. She swallows it down with an ease.

He could’ve been a painting himself. Just something to watch and admire.

But, she thinks, her eyes set on his thighs, his chest, the line of his neck, I’m not here for window shopping.

He adds some more greens to the dress of a woman on a portrait and she asks:

“Why are you doing it? Wylan’s busy?”

The lines on Kaz’s forehead get deeper.

“He’s too good to slum in with us now, I’m afraid. Our little merchling has grown up.”

Now, a splash of white, just a bit of it.

“Just admit you didn’t even ask him,” she says, crossing the room on soft feet. “You are allowed to enjoy painting, Kaz. You don’t have to find justifications to do it.”

She stands right behind him now, carefully wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He smells like he always does; like ink, and soap, and metal.

The painting is a pretty perfect copy of The Portrait of Cecelia De Groot, painted by a Ketterdam-born Jan Van Rijk some hundred years ago. The original hangs in the portrait gallery of Councilman Lievens, but Inej suspects it won’t hang there for too long. Art thefts are Kaz’s favorite hobby, and she has to call them a hobby because she knows for a fact that they take more work than they are worth and that the paintings themselves are hard to liquidate. Usually, he has a buyer for the lifted originals, but sometimes he just keeps them under his bed, like a dragon’s hoard. Shows them to her, talks about the lights and shadows, and the technique, and she listens, her heart softening at the rare enthusiasm in his voice.

“It’s for a job,” Kaz said, predictably, adding some more white to the lace collar around the woman’s neck. Inej scoffs.

“As I said,” she tilts her head and leans down, just a bit more, to press a kiss behind his ear. “You are allowed to enjoy things.”

She hears his soft exhale. His hand, with a brush between his fingers, falls on his knee.

“I see,” he sounds stoic enough but she can hear a hint of quiet amusement in his voice. “Is that why you’re here, Inej? Looking for some enjoyment?”

“Maybe.”

*******read more on ao3********

#kanej #kanej au #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej fanfiction #kanej fic #soc #six of crows #soc fic

[livsoulsecrets]

Call and I’ll rush out - BuckTommy fic

@bucktommyweek Prompt: Emergency (Day 2)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Trigger Warning: Hospitals

Summary: Buck gets hurt on the job and doesn’t expect Tommy to show up for him.

He does.

“He gazed over Tommy, still in his uniform, with his sleeves rolled up and a concerned frown in place, and mused, “You’re here. You’re really here.”

“Of course I am. Where else would I be?” Tommy answered, baffled.”

Read on AO3.

Buck had been hit by many things in his lifetime. Fists, woods, roofs, a fire truck, a tsunami, and lighting. Somehow, he had expected a concrete brick not to hurt as much.

There was a fire in a residential building. Nothing too out of the ordinary, and they had been lucky that most of its residents were not home. Buck was supposed to be out of there in five minutes when one of the garage columns crumbled down.

When the structure broke completely, a fragment of the debris went flying towards him.

It wasn’t even that big of a piece—nothing close to what had fallen atop Bobby and May during the dispatch fire—but it still sent him staggering back.

It was a miracle it hadn’t plummeted him, or maybe he had just run out of bad luck.

The last thing he saw was Hen’s face above him, her hands sinking into his chest to check for injuries as horrible pain shot through him.

“Hold on, Buckaroo,” she told him, “stay awake.”

He tried, really tried, but Hen dissipated from his vision as his eyelids grew too heavy for him to keep them open.

When he woke up again, he opened his eyes to a white, sterile ceiling and the familiar feel of a hospital gown against his skin.

“Hey, Buck,” Maddie’s voice sounded very distant, even as her face came into view atop him. “It’s alright, I got you. You’re in the hospital.”

He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but nothing came out. Every muscle on his body was lead, dragging him back down.

“Just rest,” she soothed him, and her voice was kind and quiet as she lured him to sleep again.

The second time he woke up, Maddie wasn’t there. He opened his eyes and found only the same white ceiling staring back at him.

He blinked and tried to call out for someone—a nurse, or one of his friends, anyone at all—because he desperately needed water to wash away the dry lump on his throat.

Before he could even try, a cold plastic cup was pressed to his hand, and he felt his neck being lifted by strong, deft fingers.

“Here, drink this,” Tommy said, “you must be thirsty.”

He stared dumbly at his boyfriend, unsure if he was real or some type of hallucination. Tommy seemed to take the hint that Buck was too dumbfounded to move any time soon and picked up the cup himself to bring it to his lips.

Buck drank the first cup, then the second and the third, until he felt the lump shrinking and then finally disappearing.

He could speak again.

He gazed over Tommy, still in his uniform, with his sleeves rolled up and a concerned frown in place, and mused, “You’re here. You’re really here.”

“Of course I am. Where else would I be?” Tommy answered, baffled.

Buck reached out to place a hand against his cheek, and his ribs protested painfully, but he took the pain in stride if it meant he could touch Tommy again.

There was a moment in there, amidst the debris and the fire, that he thought he would never get the chance to.

“Weren’t you supposed to be working today?” He asked stupidly.

It was a dumb question. Tommy was still in his pilot gear, so obviously he was supposed to be working.

Still, no admonishment came. Tommy smiled sweetly at him, the cleft on his chin more prominent than ever.

“And you were supposed to have all your ribs intact,” he pointed out, then shrugged, “but life gets in the way.”

“I’m sorry you had to miss work.”

The ‘because of me’ was implicit, and Buck truly felt bad for it.

Tommy shook his head. “You didn’t ask to be hit by a flying concrete block.”

“A small one,” Buck pointed out, trying to get his voice to stop slurring. Whatever they had given him for the pain was pretty strong, making his vision blurry at the edges.

“When my boyfriend’s best friend calls to tell me he’s in the hospital, I come—no matter how big the concrete block.”

Buck felt something warm gathering in his chest, and he was pretty sure his eyes must have been watering up with the sheer fondness of Tommy’s words.

“I meant it, Evan. I wanted to see you,” Tommy reassured him, tracing a hand through his collarbone above the bandages that covered his ribs. “Where did you think I’d be?” He asked hesitantly.

Buck would blame it all on the meds for what he said next.

“I thought you’d be gone,” he answered. “I thought you’d leave.”

Because this is the part that is scary, and when I’m vulnerable. Nothing good happens when I’m weak—nobody wants to be with me when I’m weak, is what he didn’t say.

But understanding still softened Tommy’s brow. There was a flash of kinship in his eyes when he told Buck, “It takes more than a few broken ribs to scare me away.”

“I’ve got a lot more than that in store,” he chuckled, and the pain sparkled through his torso again, a lot stronger.

“Then I guess I’ll call myself lucky that today was just a broken rib day.”

Tommy bent over to press a kiss to his forehead, then another to his cheek, and a last one against his birthmark.

Buck didn’t think anyone had ever kissed him there other than Maddie, but the gesture always brought him comfort—a sense of belonging that came from someone who knew all the things that made him who he was and still decided he was worth loving.

Buck knew he was no longer the scared child who felt like he didn’t belong to anyone other than Maddie. He was still hers—would always be hers—but he was also Bobby’s, Hen’s, Eddie’s, Chris’, and Chim’s.

Amidst the haze of the drugs and the pain, Buck realized he wouldn’t mind being Tommy’s, too.

He ought to tell Tommy that another time, when his head didn’t feel so heavy and he wasn’t drugged out of his mind.

“Stay,” Buck asked, fighting the sleep that was coming for him. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he felt his consciousness slipping into slumber.

“I will,” Tommy agreed. It sounded like a promise, and Tommy never broke his promises.

Buck slept.

#bucktommy #911 #911 fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy fic #bucktommy week

[lizisodd]

We Stand Alone Together documentary thoughts:

I know all the men from lots of stalking research, but my family doesn't, and this documentary doesn't list their names at the begining. (They're listed later, but still. I'm whispering "that's Popeye, no that's not 'our' Buck.")

I hope all the unused footage is in the WWII museum vault. Frankly, I don't trust HBO — where are our deleted scenes?!

I could listen to Babe tell stories for a million years.

IRL Lipton vs Malarkey vs Hashey: Best Hair competition.

Shifty still looks so (relatively) young!

Dick Winters, I wish I could have attended one of your speaking engagements. The man knows how to give a speech!

Moe Alley getting stuck upside down in the plane and Paul Rogers having to roll him out would have been great to see.

Compton: trench knife ✅, canteen ✅, 6 candy bars ✅.

Shifty admiring the soldiers who had to land on the beach. 🥰

Winters doing his own scouting at Brecourt — of course!

Winters getting emotional over Popeye apologizing for getting hit. 🥹 He loves those men so much!

Would have LOVED to see Guarnere's and Martin's tattoo adventure.

As much as I love Replacements and Crossroads, the documentary does a lot better job of explaining Market-Garden.

This doc does the impossible: makes me love Joe Toye even more.

Bill and Babe back in Bastogne could have been its own doc. And how great to see Bill, aged 80, moving so swiftly on his crutches in the woods.

BULL! Sister-in-law and I are very glad to see him, wish he was in more of the doc.

Lip getting teary remembering Guarnere getting hit. 😢 And then Malarkey not being able to talk about it! 😭😭😭

Lots of cheering for Easy's drunken exploits! 😆

I wonder what valuables Easy looted from the Eagle's Nest are going to find their way back to Germany once their grandkids and great-grandkids inherit them and realize some may have been originally looted from Jewish families. Shifty and McLung talking about the Rembrandts they passed over ...

So weird IRL!Winters kept the pistol from the German officer, but show!Winters let him keep it.

Winters made $75/week at Nixon Nitration, which is about $1,300 today. That's good money! I need to research what the average salary was in 1946.

Shifty's kids call him "Shifty" ... With a nickname that good, why use "Dad"?

Tipper! So glad you lived. Absolutely crazy your daughter is practically my age.

Fuck Marvel credit scenes, all movies should end with Babe singing over the credits.

#band of brothers #band of brothers rewatch #hboww2rewatch #we stand alone together