#And all i could think was damn... Its him... In a wig...

[walkingnearfoxes]

Meet-and-Greet (Homelander x Reader)

You have a run-in with a disguised supe at VoughtCon. It goes better(?) than expected.

Warnings for smut, incels, and pre-season 1 Homelander.

VoughtCon.

It’s your first time going to the annual convention. When its location was announced to the public, you and your friends worked tirelessly to afford tickets and pay rent simultaneously. It wasn’t every year that Vought chose your home city as the base for its biggest convention, and you couldn’t miss the chance to see the Seven in person.

The Seven. The idea of being in the same building as the world’s most famous superheroes was unbelievable. You wouldn’t call yourself a Seven fanatic, but you certainly did well when bar trivia was on superhero lore. No one could blame you for that. Vought did an excellent job making their heroes appear larger than life, and while you weren’t sure you would ever have the confidence to speak to one of them, being in the same space as them was more than satisfactory. 

The convention halls are as glorious and overwhelming as you expected them to be. Beautiful booths line the main room in aisles upon aisles. Vendors sell products ranging from Seven plushies to hero-shaped soap to personal devices that make you glad for the convention’s 18 and older age restriction. It is all devastating to your bank account, but a wonderful sight to behold. Your friends had registered you all for a few panels throughout the day, but you’re sure the booths alone would be enough to entertain you.

At some point, you and your friends accidentally separated. They were entranced by a company selling dice, and you lost them in a sea of A-Train cosplayers. It wasn’t too horrible a fate. You would see your friends regardless at the first panel in an hour, giving you plenty of time to peruse VoughtCon at your own pace. Your steps eventually land you at a booth that crafts teas personalized for each Seven member. 

You pick up one of the bags of Homelander tea. Stars and stripes decorate the b; his name is written in bold red letters across the packaging. Underneath his name is the tea description - a crisp black tea with red hibiscus, vanilla, and clove. 

“Would you like a sample?” The vendor, a woman dressed in a stunning Queen Maeve cosplay, walks up to you with a smile. “That’s our bestseller.”

“I can see why,” You say warmly. “It sounds delicious. Would love a sample, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course!” She beams and turns to grab a sample from behind the booth. She carefully hands a tiny cup out to you. “Should be the perfect temperature by now.”

You take a sip. Sure enough, it tastes heavenly. You detect the vanilla first, then encounter the harsher clove. The notes blend perfectly with the hibiscus. It all cultivates into a smooth, strong cup of tea. You let out a slight hum of pleasure as you smile back at the vendor. “Damn. That’s good.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but a man beside you cuts in. “I really think the vanilla  was the wrong call.”

You blink and turn to face this conversation intruder. He is one of the many Homelander cosplayers you have encountered today, but one of the least impressive. The padding to the suit is obvious and uneven; his biceps look unnecessarily large while his legs have lost all muscle mass. His blonde wig looks stringy. Worst of all, he is giving the vendor a look that says he knows his opinion is correct. Maybe said arrogance would be more at home on the real hero, but on this half-assed version, it looks pathetic.

The vendor, bless her, smiles politely at him. “What would you change? We’re always open to feedback.”

“Get rid of the vanilla completely,” The man says, a sentence you never thought could be said so pompously. “It’s too soft. Add something like…cinnamon. More powerful.”

“Jesus Christ,” You mutter, earning a snort of amusement from a man beside you.

Cosplay Homelander takes this reaction as an invitation to speak to you. He turns to you, his hands on his hips in an obvious imitation of the real hero. On him, it’s more akin to a pouting child. “The strongest man on the planet needs something more interesting than vanilla.” He declares.

The vendor shoots an apologetic look towards you as other people come up to the booth. You smile and wave her off, allowing her to go and cater to more polite customers. This leaves you with Homelander Lite. You could probably walk away, but this man is just asking for a confrontation - and you’re in a good enough mood to provide.

“Did you actually try the tea?” You ask him, holding up your tiny sample cup for emphasis. “It’s really good.”

He scoffs. “I don’t have to try it to know it’s wrong. He needs something more complex.”

You tilt your head. “You speak for him?”

Another chuckle from the man behind you.

Fake Homelander sputters and then waves his hand. “Look, I know Homelander. He’s the fastest and strongest man alive. He broke the sound barrier when he was seven-”

“Six.”

Your interruption brings him to another stumble. His jaw drops as he looks at you. “E-excuse me?”

You shrug. “If you’re going based on canon, Homelander is six in Origins. Not seven. Remember the scene in the train yard?”

You can see each gear screeching to a halt in Diet Homelander’s head. Before he can muster up a retort, the man behind you makes his presence known. He stands beside you, arms folded across his chest as he stares at the younger man. “I think you should just walk away, buddy,” He tells him. “Can’t recover from that.”

Deflated Homelander looks between you and the man, his cheeks as red as his cape. With an incoherent and aggravated mumble, he storms off. You watch him trail away with a smile of satisfaction; sure, it would have been better if it hadn’t taken another man to get him to leave, but you’ll take the small victory. You turn to the more pleasant stranger. “Thanks for the backup.”

The man grins. He’s dressed in light jeans, a red shirt, and a blue cargo jacket - one of the few people here not dressed as someone else. “Not a problem. That was fun, he says, looking down at the tea still in your hand before looking back up at you. “So. Big Homelander fan, huh?”

You smile back and shrug. “I know enough not to embarrass myself at a con.”

He laughs. “Clearly. For the record, I like the tea too. I think it’s just perfect.”

You look closer at the man’s face. A baseball cap covers most of his hair, but you can still see some blond strands. Even in the hat's shadow, his eyes are a striking blue. You frown, your gaze drifting to one of the massive Homelander banners hanging from the high ceiling. The resemblance is…uncanny. When you look back at the stranger, his smile has turned downright devious. “Darn. You caught me.”

You clutch your sample cup so tightly you’re surprised it doesn’t crack under the strain. “You…no. You’re not…”

The man glances around the two of you. When he seems satisfied no one is listening or watching, he meets your gaze again - and this time, his eyes are a simmering red. You can feel the heat from where you’re standing. You don’t have time to gasp before he blinks them back to normal with an impish smile. “Yeah. I am.”

Your brain short-circuits. You want to ask questions. You want to apologize for existing in front of him. You want to flee. But all you can manage is a quiet voice that sounds nothing like your own. “You…look different without a cape.”

Homelander barks a laugh. “Oh, I think I like you.” Without looking, he takes the cup from your hands and tosses it into the nearest trash bin. “Follow me.”

It’s not a question. He immediately turns and begins walking down one of the aisles. You walk after him in a daze. He seamlessly bends through the crowd, no one wise to the fact that the leader of the Seven is brushing past their shoulders. Even without their knowledge, he is effortless in carving a path for himself through the crowd - and, by extension, you.

Homelander finally leads you to another, much quieter branch of the convention center. He guides you through one door, and then another, before you’re in a silent hallway. You realize each door has a name of one of the Seven on it. No security, but who would try to startle a supe? Homelander stops in front of the door with his name, The Homelander, written in bold red. He opens it with a quiet hum and steps inside. When you hesitate at the threshold, he turns and looks back at you. He looks confused at first, then settles on an amused smile. “Come on. I don’t bite unless you ask.”

Your breath stutters a moment, and by the quirk to his lips, you’re sure he heard it. You step inside anyway.

Homelander’s makeshift dressing room for VoughtCon is a maze of color. In one corner, a pile of gifts from fans has grown tall enough to rival your height. You spy dozens of bouquets, wrapped packages, letters, all yet to be opened or read. A vanity sits in the opposite corner with a mirror, various trunks and, of course, the suit. His classic suit is hanging on a black mannequin without a head, a startling contrast to the real man who led you here. The reds, whites, and blues are somehow twice as vibrant as they were on any of the cosplayers. As you admire it, Homelander removes his hat and tosses it onto the vanity chair. He brushes a hand through his hair before turning to face you. Without the cap, there is no doubting who he is. You’ve seen that stare on screens, banners, and countless pieces of merchandise. You never thought you’d find it staring back at you.

Homelander studies you briefly. “What’s wrong? Never been invited backstage before?”

You huff a laugh that sounds much squeakier than your usual laugh. “Uh…no. First time.”

“First time,” Homelander repeats in an amused murmur. He steps closer, and you resist the urge to move away. There’s something so contradictory in his presence. You find yourself wanting to go to him and run all at once. He seems to notice the inner conflict and shakes his head as if easing frightened prey. “Relax. Your heart’s pounding like a little rabbit.”

Right. Homelander can hear your nerves. You take a slow breath and look at the gift tower as a distraction. “That’s awfully impressive.”

Homelander laughs and turns to look at it, his hands falling to his hips. You remember the poor comparison to him the two of you had chased off outside. “Ah, the adoring fans. It’s a shame I can’t read through all of them, but…it’s nice to see.”

Something about those words seems to ring hollow, as though he doesn’t fully believe what he’s saying - like it’s something he’s rehearsed. You watch him for a moment before his gaze falls back to you. He notices your stare and lets out a huff of laughter. “What?”

“Why are you in disguise?” You ask, gesturing to his outfit. If you ignore the knowing glint in his eyes, he looks more like a soccer dad than a hero. “Do you do this a lot?”

 Homelander shakes his head and tugs off the jacket. His arms are strong, but he’s leaner than you expected - especially with his suit standing like a voyeur behind him. “These conventions can get real stale after a decade or two,” He explains. He turns to place the jacket alongside his hat, carefully draping it over the head of the chair. “Sometimes it’s nice to see who your real fans are.”

“And invite them back to your dressing room?” You ask with some revived humor.

Homelander doesn’t answer immediately. He instead takes the time to blatantly look you up and down. You feel a familiar heat in your stomach flicker as he steps back closer to you. This time, seeing the growing hunger across his face, you can’t help but take an unconscious step backwards. Your back hits the wall, and he follows to lean dangerously close to your face.

“Like I said, these conventions get stale,” He purrs softly. “And lonely.”

A million thoughts fight for power inside of you at once. You wonder how often Homelander has done this with other women at other conventions. You confirm with yourself that he and Queen Maeve broke up a year ago, so it isn’t an affair. Are you really moments away from hooking up with the Homelander? It can’t be real. You must be caught in a vivid imaginary scenario and will be back in the vendor aisles any second.

Then, his hand reaches out and takes your forearm. He squeezes gently, and any rational thought in you begins to flatten. His thumb brushes over your smooth skin in a circle. “What do you say?” He asks, his voice dropping further. “Want a more intimate meet-and-greet?”

It’s an awful line, but surely someone of his stature is allowed those lines more than most. You finally smile. “How could I say no?”

“You couldn’t,” He murmurs back, and presses his lips to yours. At first, his kiss is gentle. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the curves of your lips. You give yourself to it readily, returning the kiss with a sweetness that cuts a smile into his mouth. Then, when he decides he has you, he becomes hungry. He slips his tongue greedily into your mouth and takes control of the kiss as his hands reach up to cup your face. His hands are warm against your cheeks, and you can’t help your soft moan of approval. You taste his tongue, and can’t help a quiet laugh. He feels it and pulls away a bit, looking almost insulted. “What?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s just…you actually kind of taste like vanilla.”

Homelander blinks, blinks again, and then slowly smiles. This smile is different than his others. For a split moment, it isn’t guarded. “Well…ain’t that ironic?” He murmurs, then eagerly leans in to kiss you again. You respond by resting your hands on his shoulders, pressing tenderly on the tight muscles. He growls against your mouth, an animalistic sound that curls between your legs. One of his thighs slides between yours. It pins you in place against the door, and with a slight nudge, he puts pressure against your crotch that makes you gasp against his mouth. He chuckles and pulls away to begin dotting kisses along your neck. “Sensitive,” He murmurs between kisses and little nips. “Been a while, sweetheart?”

It may have been, but that doesn’t sound very sexy. “You’re just good at this,” You answer instead.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Homelander’s smirk is plain against your skin, even as he bites down hard. You gasp at the surprise of his sharp teeth, but he immediately soothes away any pain with a tongue circling slowly over the mark he’s left. He sucks down delicately, and it only leaves you wondering what else that mouth is capable of. He pulls back and looks at your neck to admire his handiwork. “There. A little souvenir for ya.”

You huff a laugh. “A badge of honor.”

“Knew I liked you,” He growls before kissing you hard. He doesn’t break away from the kiss as he hands nimbly finds your pants and undoes the button. He shimmies them down your legs - and your panties along with them - with a practiced ease that again makes you wonder how often he’s pulled this little trick. If he keeps touching you like this, you can’t bring yourself to care much. You aid him by arching your hips and kicking the offensive materials to the side with a little shake. Homelander wastes little time then in kissing his way down your body. He ducks his head underneath your shirt, and you feel him playfully nip above your belly button before his hands find the backs of your thighs. “Up we go.”

Homelander hooks your thighs over his shoulders. Your back is pressed against the door now, your weight entirely on him. The leader of the Seven is on his knees before you. Despite knowing the man is capable of holding up airplanes, a flare of anxiety grabs you. You curl your fingers in his hair - an action that makes him unabashedly groan - and whisper. “You don’t have to-”

“I don’t have to what? Eat you out?” He looks up at you from between your legs with an arched brow. “You’re a fan. You should know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

You don’t have time for a reply before he’s licking a long stripe up your cunt. He groans first at your taste, but your moan of pleasure is quick to follow. Just like his kisses, he starts slow. He takes the time to know your taste and what flicks of his tongue make you twitch in his arms. He eats you out like he has all the time in the world. His hands eventually wander from under your thighs to your ass, squeezing your cheeks with a possessiveness that would frighten you if you weren’t so aroused. He’s vocal, frequently moaning and slurping at you like you’re his dessert. It leaves your legs shaking, and he hasn’t even sped up. Your clit throbs, and you whimper. “Homelander, please…”

He fully stands up, one hand still on your ass while the other presses to your stomach, pinning you easily to the wall. He’s now merciless against your clit, sucking with a relentlessness that has you spazzing against his hold. He’s inhuman with the way he works you. You forget everything about where you are, that several supes in this hallway can almost certainly hear your moans. All you know is that you might lose your mind if you don’t come soon.

And then he stops.

You let out a loud whine of disapproval before you can stop yourself. Homelander laughs, easing you down to bring your trembling legs around his waist. He coos at your expression. “You look like a kid that dropped their ice cream one.”

You squirm, but his one hand on your hip is enough to keep you still. “That was cruel,” You whisper, your voice hoarse.

“Oh, you have no idea,” He murmurs, and kisses you gently. He tastes like you, and you can’t help but groan before he pulls away to speak against your lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you come. But you’re not coming without me.”

He kisses you again. You can hear him unbuckle his belt and shuffle his jeans down. Instinctively, you tense. He shushes you, turning to brush his lips against the side of your face. “Relax, babe. Just gotta…” He whispers as he slowly thrusts into you. His cock pushes into your sopping heat inch by inch. You let out a strangled gasp at how he seems to press at each delicate point inside you. As he bottoms out, he throws his head back with a sigh of relief. “There we go…”

He’s thick, a stretch that would have been painful without his diligent prep. Instead of pain, you can’t think straight. You have never felt this full in your life. Your breath comes out in gasps, and when your eyes lock with his, he grins. “First supe dick, huh?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “First supe dick.”

“Well, hang on tight,” He murmurs. His hands cradle your hips as he thrusts up, pushing you up against the door. Your eyes fall shut, but his gaze never leaves your face. He goes harder as he feels your body adjust until he’s fucking you against the door like it’s his last night on this Earth. His hands are surely leaving bruises against your hips, but you relish it. Your head falls back in bliss, a series of moans spilling out you have no control over.

“God, so many sluts out there would kill to be where you are,” Homelander hisses against your ear. “You’re like a glove on my cock, fuck. Take it. You’re fucking mine now.”

It’s unclear if he means for you to hear all of this rambling. He mumbles most of it against your neck, and you’re both too far into this to make much sense of anything. It doesn’t matter. You orgasm regardless, your voice suddenly gone as it vibrates through your body. Homelander gasps against your skin as your cunt clenches down on his cock, and he immediately follows you in climax - as if he had been waiting for you to finish. He finishes inside of you, and it nearly triggers you to a second orgasm with how full you feel.

There’s a knock on the door.

Every muscle in your body tightens, but Homelander doesn’t move. His head is still buried against your neck as he calls out an agitated reply. “What?”

“We’re on in 10, Homelander,” The Deep’s voice calls from the hall, caught between amused and nervous. “But…uh…take your time.”

“Go away, Deep,” Homelander growls, still inside you.

You hear feet quickly walking away, but you still don’t move. Homelander initiates the move for both of you, slowly returning your feet to the ground. His hands remain on your hips as he chuckles and kisses your jaw. “Well…I’m not usually one to wham and bam, but looks like we’re on a time crunch.”

He lifts you off of his cock and deposits your feet back on the ground. He steps away from you to grab your discarded pants and underwear, tossing them to you lazily. “Hurry up.”

You listen, feeling half-drunk. Your underwear is soaked through, and you wince lightly as you pull your jeans over your shaky legs. Only when you’re fully dressed and straightening out your hair do you realize your phone isn’t in your back pocket anymore. You look up. Homelander is holding it and typing away. He looks at you with a smirk as he hands it back to you. “That’s where I’m staying tonight. Room code’s attached. I’ll be there around eight.”

When all you can do is blink dumbly at him, Homelander snorts and takes your shoulders. “Guess we have to save the banter before the orgasms, huh?” He easily spins you to the door, and pats your ass. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You open the door with your phone in hand, stepping outside back into the hallway. You turn to look at him again in your continued daze. “See you.”

Homelander winks, then closes the door. The last thing you see is him walking towards his suit.

You walk in a trance through the forgivingly empty hallway and find your way back to the convention center's main hall. It’s emptied a bit without multiple panels going on, and it isn’t long before one of your friends spots you. She runs up to your side in a hurry. “Dude, where have you been?! We’ve been looking for you!”

You blink. “I, uh…got a bit sidetracked.”

“By what…” Your friend trails off, eyes widening as she spots the hickey on your neck. She laughs. “Oh. That kind of side mission. At a con? You dog.”

Your lips twitch into a smile. Would she even believe you if you told her? 

“Give me the details on the way,” She says, taking your hand and pulling you towards another hall. “I don’t wanna miss Homelander’s opening remarks.”

You can’t help but bark a laugh. Right. You’re going to be sitting through a panel led by Homelander with his hotel room on your phone and his come soaking your underwear. 

Your friend sees the look on your face and gives you a curious look. “What?”

“I’ll explain later,” You say with another laugh. “Come on. Let’s hear what the All-American man has to say.”

[dukestags]

Hi, ok so I've been having this idea for so long and I think you might like to write it. It's a Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) x Male reader, where reader's a singer/popstar(? And one day, as a joke, he sends Bruce Wayne an invitation to participate in a videoclip, similar to "One of your girls" by Troye Sivan where he does a lap dance to Ross Lynch. Bruce accepts (bc why not) and well, in this case it's reader the one that ends up doing a lap dance to a shirtless Bruce Wayne in front of a camera. Needless to say, Bruce enjoys every second of it.

Surprisingly, they have a lot of chemistry, so they flirt, like, a lot. And maybe it all ends with a dinner and.... Other things ;)

Also, it's not necessary that reader is in drag like in the video I referenced if you don't like the idea.

Drunk text

Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) x Male reader

warnings: smut... drag idk... im getting a bit lazy..

summary: maybe a little joke wasn't so bad after all.

(I LOVE THE IDEA)

It was all a just a drunk joke. You drank with some friends after eight before the day of the shooting and you joked about having Bruce Wayne onset of the music video and being the guy you are… you drunk texted him with a god damn email..

‘Heyyyyyyy Mr. Wayne. I’m filming tomorrow and I need a guy for a scene for my music video for the lap dance scene. Wanna be the lucky guy? 😉’

You didn’t expect him to actually show up.. but he did. So you gave him an actual show. A proper dance.

The bass dropped—low, dirty, and pulsing like a heartbeat through the floorboards.

You strutted into the spotlight, heels clicking against the wood with every step. The bodysuit clung to you like a second skin, glittering under the dim red light. Your wig was styled to perfection, a dramatic black cascade that framed your smirking lips. A thin silver chain draped across your hips, drawing every eye exactly where you wanted them.

But your focus?

All on him.

Bruce Wayne. Shirtless. Spread casually in that vintage velvet chair, elbows on the armrests, ankles crossed, like this was just another boring gala. But you could see it—the flicker of tension in his jaw, the slight shift of his fingers against the upholstery. He was trying to play it cool.

He had no idea what he was in for.

You circled the chair like a lion, hips swaying, lips mouthing along with the track. Bruce’s eyes followed every movement, head tilted slightly as you stepped behind him, dragging your fingers slowly along his shoulders. You leaned in close—your lips just brushing the shell of his ear.

“Don’t blink,” you purred.

Then the real show started.

You swung around and straddled his lap in one smooth, practiced move. The music pounded through your body as you rolled your hips against his, moving with teasing precision. Your hands slid up his chest, nails grazing over his collarbones, down his stomach. Every part of you was in sync with the beat, with him.

Bruce’s hands gripped the chair tightly—but he didn’t touch you. Not yet.

Your thighs clenched around him, dragging your body up with a slow grind, only to drop back down again, flush against his lap. His breath hitched, barely audible—but you heard it. You smirked, locking eyes with him, your faces just inches apart.

He looked up at you like a man starved.

“Enjoying yourself, Mr. Wayne?” you asked, voice dripping with mock innocence.

He raised an eyebrow, voice gravelly. “You’re very… committed to the role.”

You leaned in, so close your noses brushed. “So are you.”

The track hit its climax—your body moving with wild, fluid energy now, head thrown back as you danced, lips parted, letting the music flow through you. Every twist, every grind, every movement of your hips against his was deliberate.

And Bruce?

He was rock still. A pillar of control beneath you. But you could see it—his flushed chest, the slight tension in his arms, the heat in his eyes. That thin veneer of Wayne control was cracking.

The final beat hit, and you dropped low—your chest pressed against his, one hand braced on his thigh, your mouth right next to his ear.

“Cut!” the director yelled.

But no one moved.

Your hand stayed on Bruce’s chest. His gaze pinned you in place.

And then—finally—his hand slid to your hip, thumb grazing bare skin beneath the fringe.

“Did I pass the audition?” he murmured.

You grinned, lips brushing his jaw. “Baby, you just bought yourself a starring role.”

…

The video shoot wrapped with applause and sweat, your lashes drooping slightly after hours of lights, music, and teasing Bruce Wayne on camera. Drag came off like armor — the lashes peeled away, heels kicked off, wig hung up. Still, you looked damn good even without it. You caught Bruce leaning in the doorway, arms crossed as he watched you remove the last of your costume.

“You clean up well,” he said, voice low but tinged with that unmistakable appreciation. You raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying that after I danced on your lap in six-inch heels?”

A chuckle. “Let’s just say... I was impressed in every stage of the transformation.”

You turned, cocking your head. “You didn’t come here just to flirt, did you?”

“No,” Bruce said, stepping closer now, “I came to ask if you’d like to have dinner with me. Tonight.”

You blinked. “Wait—you’re asking me out? Like… a date-date?”

He smirked. “Unless you’d rather I ask again tomorrow, in a tux.”

Your laugh was breathless. “Okay, Bruce Wayne. You’ve got yourself a date.”

Classy, private, high above Gotham in a rooftop restaurant that overlooked the entire city. He’d reserved the whole place—because of course he did. Bruce surprised you again. He wasn’t brooding or stiff. He was sharp, warm in a guarded kind of way, and totally unbothered by your fame, your attitude, your habit of sipping wine a little too fast. When dessert came, his hand brushed yours across the table—brief, deliberate. You didn’t pull away. “I’m not usually this bold,” he said, voice roughened slightly by the hour.

You leaned in. “I think you like being watched.” He smirked. “Only by you.” His penthouse was all dark wood and floor-to-ceiling windows, soft jazz humming somewhere in the background.

He poured two fingers of whiskey, handed you one, and sat beside you on the long leather couch. Silence wrapped around you both for a moment — intimate, heavy with promise.

You set your glass down, heart thumping. “So… about earlier.” Bruce didn’t hesitate. He leaned in, slow and sure, and kissed you — firm, steady, confident. Like he’d wanted to since you first touched him on camera.

You melted into it, fingers tangling in his shirt, tugging him closer as the world narrowed to his mouth on yours, his hands gripping your waist, guiding you backward onto the couch. You gasped when his lips moved to your throat.

The first kiss was slow—surprisingly gentle for a man like Bruce Wayne. But there was power in it. Controlled strength. Like a predator testing the waters before the pounce.

You melted into it, letting your body answer for you. Your hands slid up his chest, finding bare skin beneath the crisp dress shirt he’d already begun to shrug off. His fingers worked with firm precision, undoing buttons and belt buckles with military smoothness. When your shirt came off, his eyes lingered—taking you in, not just with lust but with appreciation.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed along your collarbone, one hand trailing down your side to your waistband. “You don’t even need the glam.”

You grinned breathlessly. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Wayne.”

“Shut up and let me have you.”

He hoisted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, groaning as he carried you across the room with ease. Your back hit the mattress of his king-sized bed, cool sheets contrasting the warmth of your flushed skin. He hovered above you, shirtless and toned, the shadows catching every muscle like carved marble.

Then his lips were on yours again—deeper, hungrier.

His hands roamed your body, claiming every inch, fingers brushing over your thighs, hips, stomach. He kissed lower, licking a slow trail down your chest before gripping your hips and dragging you closer. When he finally stripped the last of your clothing off, his gaze lingered for a beat—dark, burning.

“Look at you,” he whispered, brushing a hand down your inner thigh. “Spread out for me already…”

You moaned as his fingers slipped between your legs, teasing you with slow, maddening pressure. He took his time—prepping you, coaxing every sound from your lips with deliberate control. You squirmed, desperate, but he just smirked.

“Patience,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to feel every inch of me.”

When he finally pressed inside, you gasped—arching into him, the stretch intense, perfect. Bruce didn’t rush. He filled you slowly, inch by inch, letting you adjust as his mouth ghosted over your jaw.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear.

“Don’t you dare stop,” you panted.

That was all he needed.

He began to move—long, deep thrusts that had you clawing at his back, moaning his name into the sheets. His pace was relentless but purposeful, every motion precise. One of his hands gripped your thigh, pinning it high against his side, while the other braced near your head, keeping you caged beneath him.

“You feel so good,” he growled, hips grinding into you. “So damn tight around me…”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss between gasps. “Harder, Bruce—fuck—don’t hold back.”

That flipped a switch.

He slammed into you harder, faster, lips bruising yours as his thrusts shook the bed. The sound of skin on skin echoed between moans and labored breaths. You were a mess beneath him—sweat-slicked, trembling, completely undone.

And he loved it.

“Look at you,” Bruce whispered as you whined under him, your body jerking with every thrust. “Taking it so well… taking me so well.”

His hand slipped between you to stroke you in rhythm, and it was over too quickly. Your back arched, a cry leaving your throat as pleasure ripped through you—white-hot and consuming. Bruce followed seconds later, buried deep inside you with a low, guttural groan.

He collapsed onto his forearms above you, breathing hard, his forehead pressed to yours.

“God…” you whispered, still trembling.

“I could watch you come apart like that every night,” he murmured.

You laughed, dazed. “That a promise, billionaire boy?”

His smirk returned. “Only if you keep wearing those heels next time’’

[ghoastixx]

Horror characters w/ a child in the school musical

Notes: In honor of my school's drama club being shut down and me having to go to my neighboring school. (You can tell I have favorites ;))

Includes: Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Mama Firefly, Choptop Sawyer, Billy and Stu, Carrie White, Hannibal Lecter (and Will Graham), Beetlejuice, Micheal Myers (A bit RZ), The Lost Boys,

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Otis Driftwood

The fact that you even have to go to school is a problem to him. With his whole "I hate rules" get up, did you really think he'd want you going to some crummy government public school? He literally hates everything about it..

But... it would be suspicious if you didn't go to school, considering some people in the neighboring town knew there was a kid in the house..

When you bring up wanting to be in your school's musical?

He's all for it, wether you're a little kid or a teenager, surprisingly.

I think he'd be into the idea since he himself is very artsy, he sees it as his kiddo trying to express themselves, and he's all for it.

Especially if you are also in charge of the set (My school's was five people so I always did set), he's so excited to see what you come up with, even if it boringly lacks and pain and suffering.

He won't clean up to come watch it, he will genuinely show up with his matty white hair under his oddly stained cowboy hat, his 'burn this flag' tank top, dirty boots.. he gets odd looks, no one sits next to him or the family, murmuring that they stink.

he's so proud.

"______, do you know who that guy in the front row who keeps grimacing is in the cowboy hat? He's scaring off our audience,"

"That's my dad :)"

Baby Firefly

Oh, she is EXCITED

As a performer herself, coughcoughthefloorshowcoughcough,

If this is a highschool show, she gets into alllll the drama. All the petty fights, tantrums, affairs going on, all the juicy shit that happens during musical season. Perfect person to bitch with about it.

She will come to every single one of the shows, she tells people to come constantly.

She'd have you practice in front of victims as an "audience,"

She is so thrilled, this is the funnest thing ever to her.

Gushes over the costumes

If you don't get a lead you really wanted, she is just as petty as you are about it.

Opening night, she'll give you a boquet of flowers she totally didn't steal before hand.

The best drama mama!

"She's such a bitch, who's she think she is, huh? You deserved that role much more than them, god what a whore."

"Tell me about it,"

Mama Firefly

Aw, she thinks its so dear.

It's been a long time since she had a little one in the home, she's excited to do things that actually make her feel like a mom again.

Supports you in any way you need, practice running late? She's packed you a sandwich and an extra water. Need help going over a scene? Well, she'll try her damn best!

I feel she'd be the type of mom to help make her kids costume if it fell on the kids shoulder

She is so excited to see it when it comes time, she drags R.J, Otis, and Baby (sorry Tiny) out of the home to go see it

She dresses up all nice and fights her way to the front row

She cheers loudly for you.

"Do we have to be here?" Otis grumbled, "Yes, this is your little sibling, now hush it's startin'"

Chop-Top Sawyer

Oh god it's a mess,

it's not that he's not excited, he's very excited his spitfire is into music just like him

but that's the problem, he's too excited.

It's not like he can just... come and watch-

He's not exactly normal, y'know.

Now this could go two different ways,

1. He doesn't go watch, but makes Drayton go and record it so he can watch it himself (if he cares enough by then)

2. He goes and causes a scene and you both just blame it on his Vietnam PTSD which gets you both a lot of sympathy points.

If he does get to go, he freaks a lot of people out. He wears his wig, assuming they replaced his Sonny Bono wig, but is constantly digging at his plate with his tongue just..sticking out. Plus he talks funny and stinks and- god people are trying to figure out who this loud creeper is and why he's here..

Then they see him at the end of the show...standing with you. Gossip spreads quickly..

Some who refuse to believe it, mistake Drayton as your father at the end of the show.

"Hello, I'm assuming your ______'s father? I wanted to tell you just how talented-" "Oh! Hey Mister Johnson, I see you've met my uncle Drayton," "Uncle?" "Yeah, this is my dad," "Oh...Uhm..." "Hi *heavy breathing*" "Forgive him, he's still adjusting from 'Nam."

Billy and Stu

They are both so incredibly normal about your interests

So I'm like conflicted cause one part of me wants to believe that they don't really care all that much but the other part of me that recognizes them as huge nerds is wielding a sword.

Shut up, Stu had a musical phase in middle school, FIGHT ME.

Stu is definitely more excited than Billy is

and it's not that Billy's not excited, Stu just shows it more than Billy.

100% flexible with your schedule, they take turns dropping you off and picking you up if you can't drive.

Stu uses it as an excuse to get out of stuff.

"Sorry, can't, gotta take chick-pea to practice tonight, yeah sooo sorry."

Billy is the type to get volunteered by you if big pieces of the set need done and no one else will do it.

He'll grumble, but it will be done.

Stu donates a lot of money towards the program, half in attempts to get the director to favorite you and give you parts you want.

Stu and Billy come to every show, all of them, without fail.

This is important to you, and you're important to them, so this is important to them.

Stu is so hype on opening night, giving you a pep-talk all day before you go to get ready.

They are so proud of you when the show is over, and will both help you out of that after show slumps.

"C'mon baby, what was the name of the lead your the understudy for?" "Kelly?" "No, Chick-pea, the name of the actor..." "Guys- no."

Carrie White

stop she's so proud of you,

even if you don't end up with a big part, she's so proud that you have the confidence to do something she would have never dared to of done when she was young.

She might even be involved? I could see her making costumes- I mean, she made her prom dress and that shit was stunning.

I think she'd be more partial to you doing activities such as music or band or some form of art over sports.

The arts are just a lot less dangerous than sports, she just wants you to be safe. But she also wants you to be happy.

She will come to every single show,

She'd be the mom to help you go over lines if you needed to as well, or offer to try and help practice a dance you needed to learn.

She definitely cries watching you up on stage,

will get you the prettiest flowers and tell all your co-stars that they did such a good job.

"Mama, can you help me with this scene? I just need you to read for Yente," "Of course honey, where do you want me to start?:)"

Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham,

First off, you go to a private school. No kin of Lecter's is going to be caught dead in a public school.

He is rather thrilled when you mention performing for the school, he does love the arts after all.

Whatever you want and or need, singing lessons, dancing lessons, acting classes, whatever you want.

He will dress up for the occasion, he brings Will as well who is way under dressed, but it's always nice to see him.

I don't think Hannibal would come to every show, sometimes his appointments run late, he has a lot to do, but he will come if you have a parents night and he will come see the opening show.

If anything, Will might try and make all of them if you two are close, he knows what it's like not to have a parent show up to something so important.

Hannibal would make food for a cast party if you had one after.

No there are no people in it.

Hannibal has DVD's of all of the shows you have ever done and whips them out ALL THE TIME... The first time Will even heard of you-

"Hannibal, what are all these DVD's? Why are they labeled '_____'?" "Hm? Oh. _______ is my child, those are their performance videos." "you have a kid-" "They do musical theater, sit down, we shall watch the films." "you have...a kid-"

Beetlejuice

He's actually so upset that he can't come watch your show physically.

It's okay- there's a recorded version for him. He'll feel less bad.

He LOVES performing so this is actually perfect, but of course it is! You're his little ghoul.

He actually already knows the whole show so he is very good at helping you practice.

"Aw- toots- you're almost as good as me. Almost."

Micheal Myers (Slight RZ)

Like most things, he's indifferent.

Good luck getting him to come see even one of your shows.

He shows interest in your little hobby when you talk about it, sit next to him and talk about the show as he makes his masks. He listens.

Now.. If he does come see a show? He will only see one, most likely the last one as they are less packed (less likely anyone will recognize him,)

He'll wear a medical mask, his hair mostly covering the rest of his face, he sits in the very back.

He's slightly warmed at just how much the act meant to you.

Your director will approach you after seeing you hug the very tall man with the long hair and covered face, as he just pat you haphazardly on the head before leaving.

"______, someone you know?" "uh huh, that's my dad." "Your dad.. huh.. he seems very quiet." "Yeah, he don't say very much. I didn't think he was gonna come." "Well, I'm glad he did." "yeah, me too."

The Lost Boys

obviously, if you're going to school, you're a human still.

The only way they could come see your show would be if it was late in the evening, and they would probably show up late.

They're very happy for you and want to support you! It's just difficult with them being vampires.

Paul and Marko definitely get a kick out of acting out scenes from your script with you.

Dwayne is interested in the storyline, he also enjoys watching you act. You're in your element, it's like you're a different person.

David, on the other hand, is just amused that you're into all this stuff. It's not that he thinks its dumb or anything, he thinks you do a great job, it's just not really his scene, y'know.

But, you're their baby bat, they'd literally do anything for you, so as you're up on stage during the third song and see a blur of leather jackets and mullets sitting in the back, you can't help but smile.

"God- why are the guys from the board walk here." "They're my family :)" 'HUH-"

[m1nu3t]

ahem ..

Some would call this a 'Perfectly Mismatched' relationship ? Mismatched indeed ! But there's nothing perfect about it, is there ?!?

"Love doesn’t hurt you. A person that doesn’t know how to love hurts you. Don’t get it twisted."

But I digress ... From what I'm seeing, the owners of this 'contract' is the mum and the agent . No-one can be that cruel and get away with it like she can . And she damn-well can . She's not called 'the mom*ger' for nothing . Her girls would be nothing without her, (especially that youngest); mum hosts the show . And a lot of people don't know this except for the ones that deal with her directly . The two kids (TC & KJ) are pawns, watched and matched up a while ago because of their age, youth, appeal and potential for the next generation of HW (i.e. zeitgeistian), and pushed out into the public in order to sell, like wh*res . The only difference here ? TC initially as a youth wasn't really into the HW dream, his background is east coast and european, which accounts for the 'oh shit' moments when he has to perform now; something easily felt through the screen by people who care enough to pay attention . KJ, her little sapphic cash-cow on the other hand, was born, bred, programmed and groomed solely for this role, as all the sisters have been . Except, intellectually? Well ... there's always one .

But what I'm reading and seeing, 'the mom*ger' probably thought of Timo as someone who's image could balance her baby out and an easy-enough target, being so loyal to his team, to be swayed into the HW mindset like every other shmo . "Young, dumb and full of ..." and banking the rest of their dwindling funds on his talent, unusual looks (def. not HW . Oh well.) and charm, of which he has plenty .

The desperation reeks, though . It's scary and disgusting to watch the ship sink and I wouldn't want to be in his shoes, having them hold onto him for dear life (pun intended) . HW's 'American Dream' traditionally was the ultimate narcissistic dream of every little american child . And its big-wigs touted the belief that the whole f*cking world wants in, building competition and cashing in on the innocence in more ways than one . And 'mom*ager', being from that dying era, "The Devil of HW works hard but ... ", is trying very hard to get her last few licks in and sell it to this new gen. But she can only get so far with the old formula so she has to work hard to get around this and her last one needs a lot of hand-holding . Timo might be a New Yorker, but with that european soul ? Very different . I do think he's giving her a run for her money, though . She might be acting all cool and superior, but she'd be a wreck . And she'd definitely be afraid of him . LOL I know he must be learning from this though, he has to . He's got 'Mensa'-level intelligence as someone's said . HW is not hard to figure out, but the simple-minded people within it like to create havok and low-blows out of greed . And there are A F*cK-ToN of them; something that, back in the day, he probably wasn't aware of or understood, like most young people and which is probably why you can see so many un-suspecters blaming him for his predicament BTW. Not forced, more like flattered, seduced and cajoled . Actors are easy that way . But it's bloody obvious this has never been Timo's natural milieu. All of this is calculated of course, the toiling demon of HW knows her audience . So his team needs to have eyes in the back of their head . It must be exhausting . All in all, I do hope he has a plan, these childish 'kiss-and-miss' tricks can only "shock", "insult", "disrespect" and *gasp* "devastate" so much ... They are fun though . In the interim, Fam, watch out for articles like this, their wording and pictures and especially timing is all noteworthy .

And I'm not going anywhere . ☕ ;)

💚

[rivalsforlife]

pardon me if you’re tired of discussing this but. we know aa7 is on capcom’s radar on some level. and now they’ve rereleased every game right?? they’ve finally run out of backlog material after almost yearly releases since 2019…. Not to put the clown wig and nose back on too early but do you think we’ll actually get news about, or get to see, aa7 next year?

Never tired of discussing this!! This is right around the time of year where I'd be preparing to make my yearly AA7 Speculation Post anyway so this is great timing. (TGS, my enemy, is approaching.)

So just to make sure everyone's on the same page, here's a quick recap of where we're currently at:

In November 2020 we got internal Capcom leaks which included a calendar from 2019 with the roadmap for the AA series the next couple of years. This included:

DGS1&2 collection, which I did not think was going to happen ever, releasing April-June 2021

AA7, releasing around October-December 2021, right around the 20th anniversary.

Through late 2019-mid 2022, reconsider porting 456

We got DGS1&2 (a bit later than in the plan, but by like a month), we got the 456 ports, we got bonus AAI ports, we have nothing for AA7 nearly three years after it was supposed to come out. The pandemic is an obvious feature that could contribute to its delay, but at this point with 456 ports out I think we can safely say that this was not the only cause.

Some other things that may or may not be contributing to AA7's delay include:

Yamazaki, the previous main writer for 5&6 and the AAIs, left Capcom in 2020. If he was involved in AA7 at all, that could throw a wrench into things, but I recall hearing he intended AA6 to be his last AA game (I AM STRUGGLING TO FIND THE SOURCE THOUGH SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME), so I don't think this contributed very much. It does, however, mean that we're unsure about who the next main writer is - depending on what Takumi's up to or if they had to bring someone new on, there could be complications related to that.

I think TGAA did way better than anyone expected, which I covered in this post. It's possible that this could have shifted Capcom's priorities to porting more old games / porting to all modern consoles. It may have made people at Capcom think "damn everyone loves Takumi" so they tried to lure him back to AA7, and I have no idea how well that would have gone or if Takumi is even interested in continuing mainline AA right now. (I do think this at least contributed to the Ghost Trick ports.)

In my first ever AA7 speculation post I talked about how the ending of AA6 kind of wrote them into a corner re: how to continue with the series and which protagonist to use. I still stand by that argument even if a lot of that post aged badly.

Console ports! Previously new AA games were for whichever Nintendo handheld is out now (GBA, Nintendo DS, Nintendo 3DS). But now that the series is doing really well on all consoles, they may have decided to try to make their next mainline entry on all consoles, which would take more development time. Adding to this is that the Switch is near the end of its lifecycle with the Switch 2 (or whatever the successor will be) being announced soon - meaning that, if AA7 is coming out soon, Capcom is in the position of "do we try to squeeze this into the end of the Switch's lifecycle" (which, I'll need to find sources for this, is speculated to be some of the reasons behind why AAI2 and DGS2 sold badly when they were first released, and they can't make the same mistake thrice... right...?) or "do we try to time it with the release of the Switch 2"?

Also, a lot of this depends on how far AA7 was into development whenever it was derailed. If it was derailed from the pandemic, then according to the calendar, it would likely have still been in the prototype stage. It may be early enough that they would have had to start from scratch whenever they picked it up again. I don't work in the gaming industry so I have no idea how long it takes them to make a game or how easy it would be from what stage they're in.

One thing we can compare to is some of the comments about the recent AAI ports: in this interview, Shunsuke Nishida, the producer of the AAI collection, says that development on the collection began in 2022. He also mentions that this began once development on 456 was concluded. This leads me to believe that (contrary to my previous assumptions) 456 and AAIC were not developed concurrently (or if so, had very minimal overlap), and that the process of upscaling graphics, porting, and localization took them... about a year, maybe? So that takes time, even without taking into consideration how long it would take to come up with a new idea + write the script + the bulk of the programming that would have to be done that isn't considered with porting + probably way more than I can think of because again I do not work in the gaming industry.

There's also the question of why 456 and AAIC weren't developed concurrently. The calendar from 2020 shows that TGAA and AA7 were meant to be developed at least somewhat concurrently, and the staff from TGAA would eventually merge into working on AA7. Once again, we don't know what happened to the staff that were supposed to be working on AA7. It's possible pandemic complications meant they got shuffled onto other projects. It's possible the AA-related team is smaller now than it was in 2020, so they only have enough people to work on one project at a time. It's also possible that there's a team that was working on ports, and a team that was working on a new game, and now the "port team" is freed up to work on the "new game team".

Either way though, pretty much every interview with the staff for the 456 or AAI ports are all saying "look forward to the future of the series", which is definitely Corporate Speak, but unless they're bringing the ports of the Layton crossover (fingers crossed) that can only mean one thing. (AAI anime?) Plus, like I've discussed in this post, AA is having fantastic sales in general. They've seemingly either hired a new social media manager or changed the strategy so there is much more engagement on twitter. And AA is getting on bigger and bigger announcements - though AA trilogy ports were announced at TGS (at an AA-specific panel), TGAA duology ports were announced unceremoniously on twitter. Afterwards, 456 ports got announced at the Capcom Showcase during Summer Game Fest. And now AAI collection got announced at a Nintendo Direct, which I imagine is even more expensive, so the series must be going in a good direction for them to think that's worth it!

That's a lot of rambling for me to say I definitely think it's coming.

When are we going to see it though!!

Coming up in September is my eternal enemy Tokyo Game Show. Since AAI collection is being released at the beginning of September... it might be a bit too soon to announce a new game, but who knows. They might think it's profitable to ride the hype they're building now for AAI collection to announce a new game. Or they might let it sit for a while.

With AAIC getting announced at a Direct, I'm thinking they'll want to make AA7's announcement a) big and b) global. AA6 was announced in Famitsu, but the problem with that is that it's a mostly Japanese audience, and some interviews have been talking about how AA's global audience is particularly contributing to how big it is right now. So I'm expecting AA's next announcement to be at something major and something that will get attention from overseas audiences.

If they have been working on AA7 concurrently -- and honestly I do think there has at least been some progress on it since 2019 -- we could definitely see an announcement within the next year. I was also saying this in 2020, though, so don't take my word for it. There's been two year gaps between ports up until the AAI collection, and they seemed pretty proud about releasing 456 and AAI in the same year, so... maybe they'll want to keep it going and announce AA7 within the next year, especially if they'll have a longer announcement -> release period than they normally would for ports.

Potential candidates include:

Tokyo Game Show: As previously stated, it's very close to the AAIC release, so I don't think it's the best timing for it. I would not want my favorite AA game overshadowed by whatever the hell they're going to do with AA7. Likelihood: depends on how fast they want to follow up on the hype.

The Game Awards: is the next major gaming event, but that's already massive in terms of the type of games that get announced there, and it's expensive! Nintendo Direct is one thing since AA has always been a Nintendo-first series, but I don't think it's big enough to justify putting in a Game Awards ad. and I already have my clown wig on for persona 6 there. Likelihood: pretty low tbh

Next Year's Summer Game Fest-related Shows: I think this is the most likely, considering both the 456 collection and the AAI collection were announced around this time. For AA7 I'd say a Nintendo Direct to get lots of eyes on it, especially if AAIC sales pay off. Likelihood: pretty high!

Which leads me into my wildcard answer:

Switch 2 Announcement Stream: If Capcom decides to go in and make AA7 one of the first games for whatever the switch successor would be, it could be announced here. I regret to admit that I am a very bad gamer and only like two things, and therefore have not ever been present for one of these things to know how many games get announced as launch games for a new console, but, like, it's possible.

In the above scenario, I'm not necessarily saying that AA7 would be a Switch 2 exclusive - because I think that would be stupid after so much of the support they've gotten from the ports has been from playstation and steam - but I am definitely the kind of person who would buy a console for one video game. Shoutout to me buying a switch in part anticipating that aa7 would come out on it and that is not looking likely

Anyways, that's my speculation!! Reminder that this is mostly uninformed and that I have no knowledge of anything related to sales or marketing or video game development, and as a result of that, I have been wrong (aside from the one time I accurately predicted AAI ports as a joke) for four consecutive years.

[low-budget-korra]

Comments on Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender

*spoiler alert*

First of all I'm gonna start by saying it is one of the best adaptations I've seen so far. And that's the key word, adaptation. I've seen a lot of fans and others complain about some things that honestly, doesn't make sense because some things only work in a cartoon(just as much as some things only work in a book or a video game)

And before I start to talk about some topics that I judge important, I also wanna say that the production is fantastic, from the costumes to the CGI. It all looks amazing. (A part from Yue's wig)

1. The Script

It's not easy to pick 20+ episodes and make it fit in only 8 but damn they did a hell of a good job, especially when judging what was important to show and what they could let it go. Some fans commented that since there's no fillers, the Gaang and others miss some development but I think that for the universe of the live action what we got here it worked.

I can express how much I like to see Ozai and Azula's relationship and how it is now clear that he uses the siblings against each other, manipulating them to get what he wants. But I will admit I miss the fear Azula had, since it's implied in the show and some extras that she does fear Ozai, and fears becoming like Zuko.

I hope the 41. Is just fine after the battle in the north. See all of them bowing to Zuko after discovering that Zuko was the one that saved their asses and was heavily punished by that...it was beautiful. I loved the writers did that, give names and faces to Zuko's crew and a beautiful yet sad arc when Ozai banished his son and the men who he saved.

I also loved that they put weight into things that was treated as a joke, like Katara talking about her mother. She was a little kid who saw her mom get murdered in front of her and the live action made sure to let us know that it is not okay to make jokes about something so traumatic. All of the deaths here have tons of weight in it, it's not some random person, is someone we met, someone we liked, someone who helped. The costs of the war, something the cartoon manages to show us but know in live action, with real people, the massage gets stronger.

And they didn't forget Iroh's past like the fandom does, which is great. That actor, the earthbending soldier really let it all out, that's how you use the few screentime you have.

Sokka's isn't sexist and y'all were making a storm outta a cup of water, is not like Sokka sexist didn't go away after like the 4 or 5 episode in the original show. I think the live action was able to bring more depth to him in comparison to the first season of the cartoon. We see how he feels about his father's, the absence of him and his duty as warrior who kinda doesn't want to be a warrior.

I need a Gyatso in my life, I didn't know I needed to see more of him until the live action gave us more of him. Kyoshi was the Thor coming to Wakanda from this season, WHY THE FUCK BRYKE DONT WANNA GIVE US A KYOSHI SERIES? She is absolutely a jewel of a character. Roku and Kuruk, damn poor Kuruk man, so much pain in his words but again that's what it means to be the Avatar, it's not fun and games. Zhao saying to Aang what Korra villains said to Korra😭 that the world doesn't need the Avatar anymore, it hurt.

Guys I'm gonna say it, there's no way in hell for anyone to ship Kataang here. I'm saying this because some shippers complain that the secret tunnel part was different but c'mon, look at Kiawentiio and look at Gordon, it would be so s awkward and weird and just wrong. I know they don't have a big age difference, is only like 3 years but when they filmed Gordon looked so much younger than her, maybe in the next seasons the difference won't be that big.

The pace is good, once you start you don't wanna stop.

2. The Acting

Everyone is really good at capturing the essence of it's characters and somewhat making them their own. The highlights for me were Dallas and Ian, Its like they came straight from the show. Ken Leung's Zhao was also amazing as he was way more threatening here than he was in the show.

Kiawentiio was the Katara we were looking for, she is kind yet strong, brave and caring. And Gordon was Aang, sure, he has to learn a few things since he slipped a few times in his acting but nothing that could ruin the experience, that kid is good and just needs some experience.

Elizabeth Yu was Azula. It was different but yet the same character, is like learning something new of her and I like how cleared she show emotions with her eyes. Maria Zhang had great chemistry with Ian and I can't wait to see more of Suki. Arden Cho and Yvonne Chapman as June and Avatar Kyoshi look like they came out straight from the cartoon. Daniel Dae Kim...man is Ozai, so cold, so sharp, so scary, already way better than the cartoon version. I wanna see more of Paul Sun-Hyung Lee as Iroh since the character he really starts to shine in book 2.

3. The live action doesn't have the spirit of the OG?

Yes, it does have. The thing is now that we are seeing real people, things get dark one way or another but I don't think it ruined the spirit of the show. Aang is still a kid, Sokka still making sarcastic jokes, Zuko still annoying as hell, Katara still hopeful and strong... There's everything there really.

The thing is stuff like genocide, murder, war, death and suffering are, for some people, better to watch as pixels in a cartoon than real people.

I think it's a great adaptation and I would recommend it to every fan.

[bustybounty]

A cosplayer orders a replica of Samus’ zero suit (the cosplay classic) from a rather underground tailor. Few have heard of them, yet all the reviews are downright obsessive in their praise for their work.

She finally gets what they were talking about when she slips it on and turns into the spitting image of the bounty hunter herself, even down to the long silky golden locks, luscious plump lips, and the extreme hourglass shape that makes it damn near impossible to move.

Rana has gotten home, and she's ready to try on the zero suit that tailor made for her. It looked so realistic, something like a carbon copy of everything she imagined it to be like if they took the game and made it real...

She'd finally be able to cosplay her favorite character, and maybe even head to a convention once she felt comfortable wearing it! But first, she needed to know why it was considered such a high quality product - why everything that tailor made was rated 5 stars, yet still having his store so...underground, per se.

She started putting the suit on, feet first, the legs, the arms, the hands, and then pulled the zipper on its back slowly but surely. Though as she did that last step, it felt as if her hand was slipping...was the zipper shrinking? Wait...she couldn't feel any zipper. But the suit WAS fully on. What was going on? "Huh? How am I supposed to take it off if the zipper is gone--wait what's happening?!"

As she was looking behind herself, she sees that the hair that only extended as far as her shoulders was increasing in length. It was flowing beautifully across her back, turning into a different shade...blonde?

Something she could also see from looking behind herself was that her butt was looking a little...larger? No, she shook her head and closed her eyes, slapping her face. "What is...Oh...my...gosh." She looked down and saw her chest covering her field of view enough to not allow her to even see her feet anymore.

The suit's sock like covering of the feet transformed into high heel boots as well, which only made her look taller - after all, she was putting on inches in height too, not just in bust and hip size!

"I'm...growing...like her! This will be the perfect cosplay...but this must be some kind of hallucination...there's no way...these breasts, this butt..." She said, groping herself, bouncing her hefty tits up and down, then smacking her booty, realizing she was still growing vertically and more voluptuous. As she talked, her voice seemed a bit different too, mostly because of the sudden change from her thin lips to these big, plump, luscious, bimbo lips that were really akin to Samus's own...

She tried to hold herself on high heels, but she was not used to them, and with the amount of new weight on her body, she rapidly fell on her knees. Her gigantic boobs touched the floor in front of her, and her extremely thick thighs and butt touched the floor behind her. They were still growing across the ground too, and the extending legs, the swelling curves, the increasing height up until she was 6'3 made her head stand taller even though she wasn't moving in that position. She was still on her knees.

"How do I...how do I even get up though?? And if there's no zipper anymore...this suit doesn't even FEEL that tight...it feels natural...like glue to my skin, like it's part of me almost... oh god my hair is so pretty like hers...I can throw out the wig I was planning on using for the cosplay...I can't believe this is all...ME...Was this why that tailor had such crazed reviews? I mean...I did tell him I wanted to look like my idol, for a cosplay...I didn't think he'd make it THIS realistic..."

Moving around, trying to drag herself to her feet, she staggered, barely being able to waddle. She was done growing, but her curves nearly touched the ground even in that state. This size was completely unmatched on Earth...at least naturally. "How am I going to move...I hate it, but I LOVE it, the way I chose such a curvaceous idol to cosplay... damn...how does she do it??" It was clear Nara still remained conscious of who she was, and still had some traits that made it clear she had been transformed to look as much like Samus as possible, but this wasn't a 1 to 1.

As was made obvious by a deep, unintentionally sultry voice coming from behind her. She wasn't as alone as she thought.

"You simply don't have the genes, the training or athleticism to handle that size. You don't look bad though." The voice came from...none other than Samus Aran?? She was right there! She was real! She was even more beautiful in person! And despite being just as big as Nara, she easily carried her weight around, circling around Nara's helpless body with fast walking in her heels!

"S-Samus??? I must really be dreaming..." Nara could only mutter those words out of pure shock.

The plump bimbo lips of the blonde bounty hunter formed a smirk as she assured Nara it was no dream. "It isn't a dream. I just don't like showing myself in person to most. Though you are a dedicated fan." She got in front of Nara, and pressed her gigantic tits against hers as they stared eye to eye. Nara blushed deeply, Samus handled this with confidence. "The zero suit you have on...it's impressive for the technology of this planet. I'm not from Earth as you know, the places I grew up in had far more advanced tech. Something that isn't easy to replicate. So your zero suit isn't like mine, it doesn't have compression modules, anti gravity systems, and...I got carried away. What I meant to say is, THERE is a way to remove it without a zipper. I can do it with mine just with a thought, but yours might be harder to remove...until you find out...you'll have to learn how to be like me."

Samus said, she didn't even worry that others could actually confuse her for the 'real' Samus as most people thought she was just a fictional character, and those that didn't knew she didn't have this much of a hard time with her curves. "I must go now." Samus did a backflip, her enormous curves wobbling dramatically as what she did seemed completely impossible, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

"I...wow...okay...Nara...focus...walk to your phone, you have a tailor to praise...and maybe you need to look at obscure forums for girls with obscene curves too... I get her genes and training are different but seeing her do a backflip with so much weight strapped on her chest and back, as if they were weightless, especially now that I'm EXPERIENCING it first hand...ahhh...I really really love her so much...If she hadn't left so early...maybe I'd...have gotten the courage...to ask...for a...steamier encounter...heh...hehe..." She blushed and stopped thinking, the arousal of the whole situation finally hitting her mind full force, no longer being delayed like before.

I wonder if it is a coincidence or how the person who asked this knows I love Samus so much too. Maybe they just saw one of my posts about her in the past or maybe they know me...Either way, hope you all enjoy a much longer read <3

[starry-bite]

live episode reaction: "the disciple" (cme 18x10)

spoilers below the cut!

okay here we fuckin go

voit: “i’ve never told anyone anything” oh how i wish that were true

ik we’re on this whole ochoa is the disciple/tessa thing partly bc who else could it be but may i remind you that last season pete bailey was the big bad and we had never seen that man before in our lives

most fuckass wig on earth, elias

his escape suitcase being a network kill kit case is crazy good props work

plot twist: tessa IS voit, trans voit arc when

oh he’s gonna kill her, huh

“you’ll have better luck with the lottery” is a great deterrent line

oh so she’s very technically savvy… it's giving disciple...

okay so i’m untangling the thing that’s frustrating about doing big bads this way and i think it’s another style/translation issue. if we were still rocking with the episodic structure of primetime network television, these reveals of tessa and pete would work much better, but because we’ve made the transition and claimed to commit to the streaming, 10-episode arc, 10 hour movie vibe deal, it just falls flat without the mystery and its payoff being woven through. it’s a long-form structure suddenly deciding to remember its short form roots in the eleventh hour, and it just. doesn’t work.

and the coincidence of it being ochoa would just be too far beyond the pale

this is just secret siblings part two: electric boogaloo

i love tara in tweed. tara tweed. tweed tara.

OH OKay i get it

i’m glad ochoa is actually a friendly she’s my girl

what.

i’m sorry. i’m sorry, are you for real? are we actually going with the stockholm syndrome plot? are you shitting my dick?

“hiya honey”

“because you’re a gifted profiler who never stops being amazing” i love her i love them

i’m sorry i simply can’t take voit seriously running around this awful warehouse in his pajamas

bro i’m about to just copy-paste my criticisms of last season’s finale this is ridiculous

god, emily in glasses—unlike this plotline—does not get old

and we’re not even consistently labeling our flashbacks anymore damn

oh wait and then does she see voit as her savior?

at least this must be the end of the voit arc they can’t possibly do anything more with him after this it has to be over

aw emily’s little mentor smile at tyler for getting the profile details right!

in the words of paget herself. “sometimes this show makes me tired”

so what i’m hearing is this whole morass is actually a cautionary tale about white people appropriating asian culture

this is so insane and would require that i give a shit at all about voit’s nature

and again with the recycled bomb trap for the cavalry from last season???

“do nerds rule and boys drool?” never change penelope

the moment with jj and voit was interesting and very different from where they were a year ago i’ll give them that

OH MY GOD AND THEY’RE GONNA HAVE EMILY GIRL TALK WITH HER TOO?? IS SHE GONNA BE JADE’S CELLMATE THIS IS RIDICULOUS

well. at least they didn’t play karma police this time.

y’all gotta stop full-naming my girl jj at every turn

AND we have to sit with tyler forever??? 0 wins for me this episode

good for them ratting out the rest of the network though

overall: wow. this was such weak sauce. i liked maybe 4 lines in the whole episode. what a fumble of the ending that left our crew with little to no development while jamming an infodump on characters you could not possibly get me to care about into the last hour of airtime they have. just. a waste. anyway, now that the network arc has been put to bed, maybe the writers will come up with something compelling for next season. i don’t know. either way, i’ll see you then.

and in the words of paget herself:

[serve-corps]

Joanne Harcourt x fem reader

Joanne helps you with your English homework and let's you know, he knows you're actually a girl, turns out he doesn't care about gender!🤷🏼‍♀️

also, here is an ASMR of Joanne that I made that this story is based on

Footsteps were heard along the cement path as the Scarlet Fox House dormitory for the third year’s door opened. The footsteps continued as the door shut behind it.

A casual hello and greeting were exchanged between the normal students and a blonde sweetheart, all soft smiles and lovey-dovey eyes directed at the very well-known prefect's drudge.

He really was Cole's replacement; he was just as pretty if not far more. However, he was dependable and kind, caring and sweet, he would never harm a soul. Must have gotten that gentle nature from his two older sisters I suppose.

Despite being a kind soul, he was also independent. Him going to Weston collage often reminded you of a baby bird leaving the nest for the first time, spreading its wings at Weston.

The blonde made his way through the years of said collage with only a few hiccups, but he was loved no less, he was friendly with all, well, minus Cole.

As he opens the doors to his room, entering with a soft click behind him, the doors shut. He dragged his feet to his bed which was relatively comfortable. It was far better than what he had as a first year. Damn, he can feel his back aching just thinking about it. It must have been a stone slab covered by a sheet; it was rock solid!

He sat down with an umf as he sighed, feeling the soft texture. for the next few seconds, he was cursing out the education system for their ways of punishment as he gained a Y for not being able to stop Kadar from infiltrating Sapphire Owl House's dormitory.

his thoughts came to a halt as something crossed his mind. something that had been bothering him for a while. He was worried. Worried about one of his dorm roommates.

He built quite the relationship with them as they always tried to help him in any way they could, whether it be with his drudge duties even though he tried to refuse, you always did small things for him that really helped him out.

'I'm worried...I haven't seen them recently...' He thought to himself, Joanne sat on his bed wondering if you were okay, he knew that the year group had an English examination due soon, he wasn't exactly sure how soon but he knew it was coming up. All that could be said was that nearly have the year group was stressed like the dickens.

He specifically recalled how you had a large pile of work on your desk, also remembering how you had missed lunchtime to continue with your work. You would get ill at this rate! he was paranoid about your health mentally and physically.

you've been awfully quiet around school, intentionally or not he still felt as though you were ostracizing yourself from not only the entirety of the school but him as well. he missed you in all fairness.

he knew if he said anything to one of the boys in the school, he would become an outcast again, he couldn't be known for having romantic feelings for another boy let alone one of his closest friends.

while he was off in his own world; thinking of how to comfort you, the door opened, revealing you who was dressed in the Weston college uniform, your hair kept up in a wig but the same colour as your natural hair (if you had parts dyed include them too), your face was very feminine but nobody here could talk, Cole had the face of a teenage girl while Harcourt himself looked like he came out of a freshly printed magazine cover for women to dress like men. you were never judged for that.

you walked in through the doors and closed them behind you, hearing the same click from before but your head snapped to the blonde you treasured ever so much as he called out to you.

"O-Oh! hi! I was just thinking about you!" he said with a soft smile that made your heart melt, you turned your head away to hide your face as you were struggling to compose yourself at his innocence. Joanne panicked at your negligence, feigning that you were upset by what he said,

"All good things! All good things! don't worry!" he said urgently as you turned back to face him, he felt a bit more at ease as you were no longer annoyed, he presumed at least.

Joanne went on to voice his thoughts to you as you once again tried to bury your own grave in work. god, you would be suffocating in it if it weren't for the fact you had draws to put them in instead.

"I've just been a bit...worried..." he turned his head to the side and scratched his cheek as he was bashful for admitting it.

"you've been almost distant with everyone! including me..." he sounded like a kicked puppy as he looked down.

you looked up from your work and softly gazed at the nervous boy as he was showing genuine concern for you.

"I'm sorry Harcourt- I- well it's just- *sigh* I don't really have the time physically and metaphorically..." you responded, your voice hoarse as you hadn't been talking much today. ironic because it was the English-speaking examination that was stressing you out the most.

He looked at you with heartfelt eyes as he heard your voice, this *was* damaging you physically. you needed help. this time, he wanted to help you.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong? I'm willing to help you in any way I can! I just want to be of use to you (last name)….I really...don't like seeing you like this...." his voice was as gentle as a breeze as he offered to be your short-term therapist for the next few minutes.

you slammed the quill against the desk, breaking the feather as you hit the wooden table that you used quite often with your fist. the shock rattled through your hand, and it stung a little bit. you shook your hand as you looked at the desk in anger, almost blaming it.

sighing, you look at the kind soul who offered you help and explained,

"it's Master Goyal; the English teacher. he's ruthless with deadlines however he; pardon my language, can’t teach jack-shit! I've been stuck writing this damn speech that's worth a large part of my final grade and he won't give me any advice on how to word it! Christ all mighty! all I've done is be a good student and he hasn't helped at all! no! no! scratch that! he's set me mountains of homework!" you went on a rant about the teacher you loath. honestly? that's so fucking relatable.

"you see all this Joanne?! this mountain of damn paper?! you'd think that's all of the work I'd do in a year, right?! HA FUCK NO! he set it as god damn homework!!!" you shouted. you're really goddamn lucky he isn't a housemaster otherwise you'd be so fucked.

"that teacher is my goddamn thirteenth reason..." you mumbled to yourself and Joanne was silent throughout the whole rant, only for you to get an adorable little giggle in return, it stole your heart you had to admit.

"You just need some help with the homework? that's not an issue at all! I can help you with that!" he said with a snicker in his voice, but it died down to a sincere offer,

"I'm willing to help you in any way you need..."

you felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders as a smile made its way onto your face, staring at your savoir from this god-forsaken pit of paper.

the boy's attitude lightened up seeing you have a happier face, "I thought you seemed a bit depressed, thank god it was just the homework!"

he said with a gentle chuckle as you listed off a few of the other homework from other teachers who took pity on you, so they gave you less.

you asked him wearily if he was really sure if he wanted to give you a hand and his response was a giggle and a few kicks of his legs at the end of the bed.

"of course! justttt know that biology isn't my strongest subject...Hehe, so you might have to ask Kadar about that one...!"

you yourself chuckled at this as you know soma want the best person to go to about school work anyways, but you gave your dear old friend a little shock.

"Surprisingly, I'm very well-read in biology, whether it be anatomy, cells, or photosynthesis, I'm like a jack of all trades in that category!"

the boy sighed in relief, "Oh thank goodness, personally I excel in chemistry so I'll be able to help you in that aspect"

after that conversation with Joanne, he clapped his hands together and stood up, "Right! let me help you with this English speech!"

you sighed as you ruffled through some papers, muttering curses at Master Goyal once more only to result in the papers being mixed in with the rest of the homework. damn.

about two minutes later, you arrived victorious as you pulled out your speech, handing it to the blonde who was waiting patiently, secretly finding your struggle amusing as you looked like you wanted to throw hands with sheets of paper, damn his feelings were wrong.

he started reading over your speech, noticing your mannerisms and techniques. you were very well versed in the writing sector, you did ace your English literature after all, but the confidence portrayed through your words were appalling, he softened the commentary as much as he could.

"(your fake name), I think...you uhm... you have the right phrasing and techniques but you're lacking in the ahem...confidence department.

the listeners won't be engaged unless you sound like you’re the only right person, you need to have more confidence- uh"

you had your hand covering your mouth, finding it harder and harder to shut up your giggling the longer he spoke, snorts leaving your shanking form. he sighed in exasperation at this.

"Can you stop laughing? please? it's not that funny..." he said trying to be serious, however, failing miserably. he himself cracked a smile that he tried to shoo away because of your adorable laughter.

"but it is! do you remember what you were like before you became a drudge? you were as quiet as a mouse!" your snorts turned into full-on cackling as Joanne lost his serious act unintentionally.

"yes, yes I know, how ironic. Joanne Harcourt telling you to be more confidant...sooo funny..." his voice was shaky from trying not to laugh, only to break a little bit when you slapped your knee and wheezed out, "but it is though-"

"Okay! but I'm being serious! this could help you in the long run (Y/f/n)!"

your laughing at him continued as he Shakely explained the importance of confidence that you needed in your speech, you were taking the advice though, almost to heart as he dished out tips and tricks.

he ended up finishing his little lecture about voice and tone for you to still be softly giggling at him.

he let out a short sigh and crossed his arms, leaning back from you with a pouty face, "You're so mean!" but that charade ended rather quickly as you both grabbed hold of the other and both started laughing, these were moments you treasured with this boy.

he might not know you were a girl but you were still in love with him.

you both calmed down and you finished quite a large sum of the work together, at the least 75% of it was done, but time flew as you did the work together, it didn't even feel like work when you were with Joanne. I suppose that is a good thing, right?

suddenly, Joanne spoke up. " how about this, we go meet up with Prince Soma tomorrow and study some more English and chemistry because let's face it, if it was a chance of life or death with you answering a chemistry question? we're all as good as dead." both of you chuckled at this.

Joanne perked up as he came to a realization, "Wait, what's the time? you have a watch, don't you?"

you looked at your wrist and your eyes widened.

"Holy shit, it's almost 11 o'clock at night!" you whisper yelled.

"it's nearly 11?! crap! we have to get to bed now! I don't want a Y!"

several days had passed and now it was the night before your English-speaking exam, you felt confident you were going to rock this shit because you had your crush's help throughout it all.

you tossed and turned in your bed, only to hear Joanne softly whisper to you "Are you awake (Y/f/n)?"

the housemaster put us to bed about an hour ago, the routinely 5-minute checkups are now over as the housemaster has gone to bed. everyone in the room was asleep, apparently apart from you and Joanne.

"yeah, I am. what's up blondie?" you whispered back to him, turning to face him as he was led down in his bed which was next to yours.

"It’s just- I'm worried for you is all...do you think you'll be okay tomorrow, I did my best to help you..."

you sighed as it seemed Joanne Harcourt was more nervous about your exam than you were, honestly? that sounds just like the boy you fell in love with.

you dragged your feet over the side of the bed, heading straight for his as he was laying there shocked at what you were doing.

"w-wait...what are you? -"

you climbed into his bed as he led there still as a rock, trying to grasp the situation. you rested next to him, hoping to not only calm his nerves but to calm any of yours that could have been flying around out there somewhere for your exam.

"Why are you in my bed?... What on earth are you doing in my bed?..?" the boy whispered with a stutter. a blush painting his cheeks a light pink as his innocence overtook him.

despite his embarrassment, he pulled through, "You know I'm a prefects drudge right? it- it's improper for me to do this I-"

you hushed him and replied to the silent question why do you want this?

"I need the comfort, I don't want to burst into a panic attack as soon as the exam starts, right?" you say with an extremely calm voice, not a single hint of paranoia lacing it.

"This doesn't permit you to- if word got out then-"

"Then be quiet." you hushed him as he would wake the other three in the room.

he took a deep breath and accepted the inevitable. "t-this is fine..."

"But why me? you have a friend in Scarlet Fox House who'd be more than happy to do this, so why me- uh!"

you shut him up by wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him into your chest. this leads to him being a blushing mess.

"p-please be considerate of the fact I know your confidential secret...that..." he gulped and looked down, not at your tits, just down.

"that you're not a male..."

your breathing stopped for a second. your thoughts going a million miles an hour as now the panic had kicked in, but only one thought stood out from the rest. 'will be okay with dating me now?'.

he chuckled at your shocked face as he debunked your attempts to hide it. "you thought you were slick, didn't you? it was obvious to me after a while...you don't bathe with us but you're always hygienic so you must do so separately...your body stature is very feminine.

you cut him off by nuzzling his chest, that really was an effective way to shut him up. "do I really provide that much comfort?.." he said in a hushed voice.

all you did was nod silently.

he sighed, "Fine... I'll sleep with you. just for tonight! I don't want you getting the wrong idea." he scolded in a motherly tone. you know damn well you'll be doing this from now on every night.

the looked down at your face as he looked into your eyes. your body reacted instinctively as you felt his breath against your face. you strained upwards, "What are you-! *gasp*" You cut him off quickly with a short peck to the lips, they felt so soft, you wanted another taste...but no, you need to make sure it's okay with him first.

red crawled up Joanne's neck all the way to the tips of his ears as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand, he was a stuttery mess.

he quietly cleared his throat to regain himself. As you stared at him lovingly, it made him all the more flustered.

"y-you could have at least told me your real name first-"

you stroked his cheek softly as you took a deep breath,

"O-Oh, I wasn't expecting you to actually-"

"(y/n)."

there was silence for a moment as if he was soaking in the same to match the face. his eyes now reflected your loving gaze.

"that's such a beautiful name. It suits you well..." he chuckled softly.

"Just make sure you ask next time you do that... I'd be more than happy to let you..."

both of your faces were slowly leaning closer, your eyes asking the question that you so desperately wanted to ask for you,

"you can do it as often as you like...mmf-!" his eyes widened once more but this time they shut to savor the moment, he tasted like honey and scones, but tea time was over five hours ago...must be his natural taste...

as you both pulled away this time, the kiss was dragged out longer, but both of your eyes slowly opened. you both appeared to have the air stolen from your lungs. you felt your heart melt as he said,

"you're cute, even dressed as a boy, you know that?" he rested his forehead against yours as you hummed in contentment, a small smile gracing your lips as you now felt tired and relieved.

"let's keep this between us, okay? I don't think Redmond should know about this...

I think it would be nice to make this a normal thing, like our own little homework club!" he said excitedly only for you to softly shush him and stroke your thumb against his cheek.

"two members only, I wonder why...." he said gently as your eyes fluttered shut, yet you still moved your head to kiss him once more, a short kiss that said shut up in a nice way. this led to a giggle from him.

"Maybe that's why..."

[vveakfish]

do you have any thoughts about the core four whose gender(s) are basically just a trans fruit cocktail that you would like to talk about? because I would love to listen

oh boy DO I !!!

I have So Many thoughts about them Anon, so thank you for giving me an excuse to try and put it into words beyond “Damn, these bitches trans! Good for them.”

Honestly, there are so many different ways to explore these characters genders based on how you choose to interpret their life experiences, and their aesthetic changes, and their relationships with each other. I am of the belief that any of them could be trans in any direction

But, that said, I Do have particular gender headcanons for YJ that i am very fond of, so thats what I’ll be talking about today.

(Small disclaimer. I have not finished all of the comics referenced in this. I am using the information i have to inform these, but you know, i might come back to this post at some point in the future and look at it like “wow, i don’t agree with any of this anymore.” And i think thats okay.

I’m just here to have fun, and i thoroughly enjoy these little guys, and think abt them alot, so enjoy

(also if you dont want to read 4.1k words of blorbo gender analysis, or would like to avoid spoilers for Superboy (1993), Young Justice (1998) & (2019), and Red Robin (2009) in varying degrees of detail, or you just want to see what lables i assigned them, scroll down to the bottom <3))

lets get started.

Bart:

Bart's gender is the most complex, but his thought process about it is also the most simple. I think his view of gender would be very much influenced by the fact that he grew up in VR in the future like…

A body is just an avatar, do what ever the fuck you want with it.

That said, the lil guy has always given me transmasc vibes. These vibes, however, are by no means binary.

He understands that in the 21st century a lot of people do not have his sort of “throw things at the wall and see what sticks” approach to gender, so he’s okay with being put in the box of Boy™. But his gender is a lot more * hand waves vaguely *

Clothes don’t have gender in his eyes, they’re fabric you put on your body. Wear what ever you want forever!

Bart in skirts is something i have seen many people draw/talk about before, and its something i agree with wholeheartedly. He likes hair clips, and like, those loud (actually loud and visually loud) beaded bracelet type things that ravers wear. He like nail polish. He doesn’t grow facial hair, but he wouldn’t care if he did. He’s not on hormones, but he definitely considered it for the bit. “Gotta drink my boy juice” Kind of vibes.

For him gender has Nothing to do with performance, its all about comfort. About wearing what feels right, regardless of whether or not he’s adhering to expectations of masculinity.

Yes, he Will wear that god awful outfit out of the house, haters can die mad

Cassie:

Anon, I need you to understand how much i love early yj98 cass. She is everything to me — her process of coming to terms with herself, and being able to watch her start to feel at home in her own skin. It makes me absolutely feral.

lets see if i can explain why… succinctly

When we first meet her in yj98, her identity as “Wonder Girl” is this sort of amalgamation of What it Means To Be A Hero in her eyes. She has her party city blunt bob wig (Because Diana is who she looks up to), the gloves, leather jacket, goggles combo (that so clearly take inspiration from Kon).

At this point in her life Wonder Girl is not really her. Its very clearly a mask she’s putting on. which is what makes it the perfect avenue for her to explore gender expression without it having to actually be about her gender.

I think the part that specifically makes me feral though is her… we’ll call it admiration of Kon.

The girl is a self proclaimed Superboy stan + theres all the weird not-drama between Cassie and Cissie over wanting attention from Kon. (And i say Not Drama bc its like… Kon flirting with cissie (which like… have you met 90’s Kon?? he flirts with everything that moves) and Cassie being upset that he’s Not flirting with her. and cissie is just along for the ride. She’s not quite as much of a flirt as kon is, but she has her moments)

All of this to say i feel like its impossible to have a conversation about Cassie’s gender without also talking about her experiences with comphet and lesbianism.

At the beginning, Cassie sees Kon — this cocksure, conventionally attractive boy with powers that (at first glance) seem very similar to hers, and felt something about it. And, in the way of teen girls who have been told since grade school that they’re supposed to like boys, Cassie comes to the conclusion that what she feels for Kon must be romantic in nature, right?.

All of this, the jealousy over Kon and Cissie flirting, basing her costume off Superboy’s (intentionally or otherwise), the fact that she wont let her team see her without the wig and goggles at all for so much of yj98. To me it all reads as the tangled mix of undiscovered lesbianism and gender dysphoria that the poor girl simply doesn’t have the words to define yet.

So, then what IS cassie’s deal with gender???

i am so very glad you asked.

She, too, is a transmasc of the nonbinary variety.

I think her relationship to femininity is complex, and ever changing. She doesn’t feel comfortable performing femininity the way the world expects her to, but she is also part Amazon. And i think having a relationship with both Diana and Donna would greatly influence how she felt about femininity as a whole.

The Amazons are strong, their femininity isn’t about beauty, or being soft spoken — it isn’t about Men at all. On Themyscira, to be a Woman is about bravery, honor, skill, and in some ways, divinity. Getting closer with her Amazonian sisters would change her relationship to womanhood immensely.

But it still wouldn’t feel Right. She would be able to see that womanhood can be defined differently, but that wouldn’t change the connotations that womanhood had as she was growing up. She’d never be able to lean into it the way Diana or Donna do — they both grew up only having woman defined as strong and brave and confident. Their experiences are not analogous.

The baggage of growing up a girl under the patriarchy wouldn’t just… vanish because she sees that it Doesn’t have to be that way. In some ways, the knowledge that it didn’t have to be that way could make her dysphoria all that stronger (especially if she hasn’t quite deciphered that dysphoria is what she’s feeling).

but i think there would be a point where two things sharpen into focus for her.

fiirstly she has a big fat crush on cissie king-jones.

and second (which would only come AFTER realizing her feelings for cissie) is that what she feels for Kon is Not the same as what she feels for Ciss.

She didn’t want to be with Kon romantically, she just wanted his gender.

I could see her experimenting with wearing a binder, liking that she can get rid of her boobs if she isn’t feeling them that day.

She already has her short hair, and her leather jacket and jeans, and shes big and buff and strong (because she deserves to be butch!!! okay???).

I still think she would use she/her pronouns, but she wouldn’t be picky ab it (if she gets called sir while at the pizza place, she’s not going to correct them.)

But here’s the kicker — I think leaning hard into her masculinity would be EXACTLY what she needs in order to actually ENJOY expressing femininity again.

When putting on the mask that is ‘womanhood’ becomes something that she can Choose to do, rather than something that is being forced on her, it can be pleasant. Like playing dress up.

She has a new appreciation for it, especially since her friends respect her gender, and she knows at the end of the day, when she takes the makeup, the clothes, and the wig off, underneath it all she’s just her.

(Small addendum re: TT’03 Cassie’s fem phase. I have Many thoughts about this as well, and while they end up in roughly the same place, i exploring her experience with comphet and her decision to dress in a more traditionally feminine in that run is something id like to explore in another post (once i’ve actually read the run too.)

Cissie (bonus):

This one should be shorter than Cassies, mainly because my reasoning for it is much simpler.

YJ'98 (#11)

She lists all these names, all of them feminine except for Fucking Ralph. “One weird phase” she calls it.

To me, Cissie is a transgirl through and through. She has this huge list of femme names she tried on while she tried to find the one that fit best. She mentions ralph in this off handed way, as if its not important, and i think thats just her way of dismissing her deadname as something of little consequence.

(that said, i think there’s lots of fun to be had with transmasc cissie, or tried transing-her-gender and realized it wasn’t for her Cissie. But as a transfemme, tgirl cissie is So important to me <3)

Kon:

other people on here have made posts about Kon’s gender that are much more coherent than this will be, but i’m putting the words down anyway. bear with me.

Kon’s experience with identity (especially in his earlier years) is almost entirely about the external rather than the internal.

Kon has his whole life planned out for him from the moment he opens his eyes. It’s simple really — become Superman.

So you have this freshly hatched teenage boy, saving the world as Superman (not the Only one, but definitely the coolest one (Kon would argue)). All eyes on him, all the time. In some ways, performance is inseparable from who he is. From the very beginning, everything he does is on display.

He starts his life with a Name (Superman), a life path (…again, Superman), and all the confidence of a sixteen year old jock with nothing but wins under his belt. then it all gets taken away.

Turns out Clark ISNT dead, and the world doesn’t need its pint sized superman anymore now that its got the real thing.

enter Superboy

Kon’s entire identity, his whole purpose for being alive, was to step into the shoes of a dead man who is no longer dead. So where does that leave our genetically engineered test tube baby?

lost, and extremely confused.

But he’s good at using his charisma as a shield, and even better at keeping himself busy. His problems aren’t there if he doesn’t have the time to think about them, right?

and i think that’s true about his gender as well.

Similar to Cassie, his discovery and exploration of his gender feels incredibly tied to his sexuality (to me). If you’ve read sb93, you know Kon’s deal with women. He is cute & conventionally attractive & he's like superman with a fashion sense, so of course there are people fawning over him.

And he loves the attention. He likes that people want him, or that they are looking at him. The issue is he doesn’t have the life experience to realize that their reasons for paying attention to him are often very shallow, manipulative, or selfish.

He isn’t treated as a person very often. He’s a brand, a product, a tool, a weapon. He’s arm candy, he’s a photo op, he’s a headline, he’s a paycheck. And it takes him a long time to be able to tell the difference between someone Liking Him & someone Using Him.

For the longest Time, Superboy is all he is. He doesn’t have a name outside of that identity (except for the various pet names the women in his life give him (kid & pup, mainly)).

And even when Clark does give him his real name, Kon-El, its still Attatched to his identity as Superboy.

I dont think that he would really even be able to start dissecting how HE feels about his identity until he’s much older.

Part of this would come from the space to be someone else that gaining a civilian identity would give him. As Superboy, the goal has always been to stand out, to be seen, to shine like the sun.

As Conner Kent, he has to blend in. He doesnt want to draw attention to himself, or the Kents, or Clark. He has to fit in, which was never something he had to do as Kon. And i think it would kind of chafe at him — but he wouldn’t really know why.

I think he’d chalk it up to how different of an experience it is. Not being loud, having to be normal™. And so i think he’d just… continue to play the part. For a while anyway.

And like, part of being Normalest Boy Conner Kent would also involve actively un-queer coding himself for the sake of fitting into the ecosystem of Smallville High. and its like…

Young Justice, as a friend group, is SOOO queerplatonic. The lines between romantic and platonic intimacy are so blurred, and Prior to Kon’s YJ days he he was also like… living with these woman who he had complicated relationships with that also blurred the lines between platonic, romantic, and sexual (…looking at you, Knockout).

So learning where the line is when it comes to how he can acceptably interact with his civilian friends (particularly the boys) would Really open his eyes to just how close he is with Bart and Tim, and how similar his feelings for them are to his feelings for… lets say, Simon Valentine.

But i dont think That is what would actually tip the scale. I think realizing that these feelings for his friends aren’t considered ‘normal’ would make him shove them down deeper. As ‘Conner’ anyway.

from here it could go two ways, right?

Either we get Teen Titans ‘03 t-shirt Kon, who sheds his GNC 90s swag in exchange for adhering closer to traditional (read; boring) masculine gender roles.

or we get a Kon who leans Harder into his punk roots, but its a conscious choice now.

(this isn’t even digging into how he would feel once Jon comes into the picture, because while Kon cares for that boy Deeply, his feelings abt the new kiddo in the family could also be very complicated. But that’s a post for another time.)

Personally i prefer the second one.

Kon has always been a curious kid, i love the way he makes pop culture references, and how he bases his behavior off of 90’s teen tropes that he Most Definitely learned from TV. In his early days this wasn’t done in a research way necessarily, but he Did want to learn what it was like to Be a Teen™, and TV was the easiest way to figure that out.

(and, playing in the space of Kon adaptations, his love of media/pop culture, and just over all thirst for knowledge, are present both in the Reign of the Supermen Movie, and in his iteration during the n52 (which is one of the few things i personally have internalized from reading n52 Superboy/Teen Titans)).

But post gay awakening, i feel liked he’d be interested not just in behaviors, but also the context of them. Digging into punk as a subculture rather than as an aesthetic. Learning about its connections to queerness, and community, and self expression. And i think this would be extremely freeing for him. (especially if this were around the time of Jon becoming Superboy v.3, but again, not the point of this post.)

this all culminates in Kon being like yk? gender just… isnt for me. Like, it takes im a long time to get to this point, but realizing that the path that was set out for him is just one of the potential paths he can take, and while he might not know where this new path will take him, its his, that that matters.

And also like, Because his friends are who they are, he’s seen different versions of queerness, and transness, but i think it would take him a bit to see himself as someone who Isn’t Cis bc like… he doesnt have dysphoria in the traditional sense.

He’s still the beefcake he’s always been, but i think he’d start playing with makeup when he realizes it makes him feel good (he shows up the the cave one day with smudgy eye liner and Cissie is immediately like a) you look so good and b) can i Please do your makeup? (and then she does it, and he looks so pretty, and he gets these weird giddy feelings that he doesn’t realize is gender euphoria until his friends start talking abt gender euphoria)

His uniform starts to get more personalized too, like the designs where he has knee patches, and all his little belts, and stuff. maybe he starts experimenting with showing skin. bc he deserves it

(’its for maximum sun exposure!!!’ is the what he tells clark… he’s not sure if clark bought it or not)

And hey, exploring gender presentation more as Superboy might help him do the same as Conner. Cassie will take him thrifting, he’ll try of a flowy skirt or a sun dress or something and then its Over. Gender euphoria part two, electric boogagloo.

In the end, its about realizing that adhering gender roles (and truthfully, any socially imposed ‘rule’ about self expression) is something he can simply Choose not to do. And i think this freedom would be something that benefits him in his civilian life as well.

His gender is: literally what ever, man.

Tim:

Ok, here’s the thing about Tim and gender, right? I think he’s kind of just comfortable as he is. He’s good at playing the roles he needs to in what ever situation hes thrown into. ‘Robin’ and ‘Tim Drake’ (and even ‘Tim Drake-Wayne’ if you want to split hairs) might be masks he wears, but that doesn’t mean they’re any less him. if that makes sense. like…

Lets look at the differences between Bruce (or Brucie) and Batman for a second. They really are different people. Batman is who bruce is at his core, ‘bruce’ is this sort of liminal space between the cowl and his public persona, and then theres Brucie™, and well, you know how he is. These are personas that Bruce puts on.

With Tim its like he just highlights different aspects of himself when a situation requires it. (oh no, the autistic!Tim head canons are being loud today.) But like, he’s Always been masking. And i think this is something he would look at as like… getting a good grade in adapting. or something. He’s comfortable, all the roles he plays are ones he’s familiar with, and he doesn’t really question who he is outside of who he needs to be.

That is, until Caroline Hill makes an appearance.

I feel that the decision to go undercover as a woman was a wholly practical decision in the moment. It’s what the mission required, and therefore tim stepped up. Its just another mask, right? Surely this wont awaken anything in him…right?

But this is an entirely new mask. And i think it might like… shift the way he looks at/thinks about the other masks he puts on. He was able to step into a role that was very foreign to him, and it Worked. (and he felt pretty, which like… woah, thats a new feeling. and he kinda liked it? file that under ‘thoughts he doesn’t have the bandwidth to process right now.’ Bruce needs him back at the cave! its time to debreif! and he has a biology test tmrw! no time for gender scaries!!!).

I think it would take a while for him to be able to admit it to himself though. Because like… hes Not uncomfortable with his body, but he also keeps thinking about how good he felt dressed up femininely, and how he felt powerful, in a way. That putting on that mask felt just as good as putting on his domino.

Personally, i think itd be funny if instead of coming out right away, Tim doing undercover missions essentially in drag becomes a recurring thing. And i imagine some people give him a hard time. (not in a transphobic way or anything, i just mean like, teasing him fondly or what ever.) (Also, i like to imagine that when cissie Did kons makeup, bart and Tim jumped in there too bc like hey why not, and hoooooo boy, if Tims egg hadn’t cracked before then, it sure would have cracked after.)

The thing about him is, i’m not sure if he’d come to the realization himself. You know, that he would like to present femme sometimes, in a situation that has Nothing to do with a mission.

I could see Tim convincing himself that its a pointless or frivolous desire, which is Why he relegates his time presenting femme to when he can prove that it’s useful.

but i have this image in my mind, right? Of him, taking his makeup and wig off, and hes chatting with whoever is in the room with him (literally anyone else mentioned above… or Dick). And Tim’s just talking about how he wishes he could present this way in situations other than missions.

and the other person in the room is just like… i mean, you literally can.

and hes just like…. shit you’re right. i Can :0

I could probably go further into depth abt this, but i think this just frees him to start playing with gender more as Tim. and start to recognize when he’s feeling more masculine, more feminine, or somewhere in between.

His gender isn’t consistent, its this thing he’s constantly listening to, and trying to understand. but in the mean time, he can paint his face, and wear pretty clothes, or dress like just Some Guy, or be a hedgehog dressed in traffic light colors, or what ever his heart desires.

As far as like… how He describes his gender, i think he’d say something corny like bi^2 (bi of both the sexual and the gendered varieties). Or shrug, handwave, generally give a non-helpful vague description. Or tell who evers asking to buzz off.

(small addendum wrt Kon and Cassie in TT’03. I haven’t read this run yet, so i didn’t really include it in this post. But i Do have thoughts about what might cause the two of them (my gnc besties from my comics books) to lean sooooo hard into traditional gender roles after being So Queercoded in their other appearences. Before i talk abt that though, i want to read the comic. So, that will have to be a post for another time)

ANYWAY, heres that TL;DR i promised.

Bart: NB Transmasc Cassie: NB Lesbian (of the transmasc variety) Kon: Agender Tim: Fluid (bi-gender) + Cissie: Transgirl

Thank you soooooo much for giving me the opporrtunity to ramble abt the silles and how Not Cis i think they are. Love you forever.

[jerzwriter]

The way I screamed when I received this commission! I was going to wait until it was a little closer to Halloween to post, but I'm not that patient! @/artbyainna (IG) knocked it out of the park again!

On the Spot

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Tobias x Casey Carrick (MC) Featuring: Vivian Carrick, Jordan Carrick, Sammy and Brooke Category: Halloween Fluff Rating: Teen Words: 1284 Summary: It's their first Halloween as parents of two, and things are a little crazy at the Carrick's, but it's nothing they can't handle. A/N: Participating in @choicesoctober - Costume/Halloween and @choicesprompts Flufftober - Found Family (Okay, it's a stretch... but it is really fluffy lol)

Chaos. It’s to be expected in any home with little children, and the Carrick household was no exception. But, on certain days, the chaos was dialed up just a notch. And Halloween, with all of its events, costumes, and free-flowing sugar, was certainly one of them. Casey was running around, tending to her long to-do list, when the clock struck one.

“Shit!” she spat, peeking her head into the kitchen. “Tobias, you’re going to take care of feeding Brooke, right?”

“Absolutely,” her husband beamed, quickly returning to making silly faces at their giggling baby girl. “I've got this. You go take care of yourself, babe.”  

But the makeup kit on the table in the hallway reminded Casey of one more thing she had forgotten to do. Grabbing it, she made a beeline to the living room, where her mother-in-law, Vivian, was having a very important tea date with her older daughter, Samantha.

“Hey! Tobias is taking care of feeding Brooke. Would you be able to do Sammy’s makeup so I can get dressed?”

Vivian shot her beloved daughter-in-law a look that just screamed... really? But her reply was far more diplomatic.

“Casey, dear. What do you think I’m here for?”

“To be an utter pain in my ass,” Tobias yelled from the kitchen.

Vivian let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know why you married him. Don’t misunderstand,” she quickly corrected. “I’m delighted that you did... I just don’t... understand it.”

“Aw, Viv, you know I love him.”

“And I'm appreciative," she grinned. "Now, go... get dressed, dear. I'm happy to do my little angel’s makeup.”

Casey rushed upstairs and pulled a teeny black dress from her closet, quickly shimmying into it while stepping into her red heels. After placing a wig on her head, she put her makeup on at record speed. Then, she looked around her room in a panic.

“Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! Did I leave my shawl at the hospital? Oh my god... I think I left my shawl at the hospital!”

She was frantically searching when Tobias stepped in.  While his eyes traced every single curve on her body, he let out a slow whistle, which brought Casey’s attention his way.

“Damn, baby! Look at you!" He hissed. "Do we have to go trick or treating? I could tell my Mom to take the girls, then you and I could stay home and work on baby number three.”  

 “Really?” She smirked.  “You know damn well there is not going to be a baby number three, Dr. Carrick.  Not unless you want to find another wife.”  

“Well, that’s not happening,” he assured. His arms encircled her waist as he nudged her hair aside and pressed a warm kiss on her neck before continuing. “I'm all right with just pretending to make baby number three.”

“Tobias Carrick,” she giggled. “Are you seriously suggesting not going trick or treating with our little girls?"

“Nah,” he grinned. “I’d never miss that. We'll save our private celebration for later. Now, why were you panicking when I walked in?”

“I can’t find my shawl! Without it, I won’t look like Cruella. I’ll look like I'm running a brothel!”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he laughed, handing her the shawl. “Looking for this, babe.”

Casey’s shoulders dropped with relief. “Oh, thank God! How the heck didn’t I see that?”

“Because you’re doing a hundred things at once.  Let me help.”

“You can help by getting into your costume. We have to introduce Boston to the sexiest dog catcher it’s ever seen.”

“Yeah, I still think you picked that costume so you can tell me it’s my job to run after Sammy all day.”

“Hey, why do you think I bought you that big net?” she smiled.

Tobias’s eyes glistened. “Just remember,” he said, kissing Casey’s cheek. “Once we put our little puppies to bed tonight, the only thing I’m going to be chasing is you.”

“Hmm... why do you think I got you that big net,” she teased.

“That will definitely be fun.”

“I’m going downstairs,” Casey said, pulling herself away. “It's not fair to ask your mom to get both of the puppies ready.”

“Are you kidding? That woman nagged me for grandkids for nearly three decades. This is payback.”

“Tobias?” Casey playfully admonished.

“OK. Go. Go. But make sure you tell my mom that any Butterfingers the girls get trick or treating are mine!”

“Babe, we have six bags of Butterfingers to hand out; you can keep one for yourself if you like."  

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

“Well... I like that... but still... it’s the principle. She needs to know every Butterfinger on the planet doesn't belong to her!”

“Yes, dear....” she laughed as she headed for the door. "I'll see what I can do."

~~~~~ 

Thirty minutes later:

“Hey, Sammy! Look at Uncle Jordan! The camera loves you, sweetie!”

“It was so nice of you to come take our pictures,” Casey smiled.

“For my three favorite relatives?” Jordan flashed a bright smile. “I’d do anything.”

“Real nice,” Tobias chided. “Omitting one of our girls from your favorite relatives.”

“Oh, you know you were the one being left out of that equation, big brother,” Jordan laughed.

All heads turned when the front door of their townhome creaked open.

“Well, you better up your favorite relatives list to four, son. Otherwise, these two little girls could easily replace you in my will.”

“Why didn’t tell me she was here?” Jordan asked Tobias through clenched teeth.

“Because it’s much more fun this way,” he gleefully replied.

“Guys!” Casey called out. “As much as I live for Carrick family banter, can we finish taking the pictures? Sammy’s daycare party is starting soon.”

“Leave it to my two idiots to make this precious little girl late,” Vivian scolded.

Not wishing to push his mother any further, Jordan decided to speed things up.

“All right, let’s get the family picture taken. Do you think there is any chance we can get Brooke to look this way?”

Casey shook her head. “Jordan, the chances of getting them to simultaneously look in your direction are slim. Just do your best.  No one expects perfection.”

“Uncle Jowdan,” Sammy giggled. “Look! I’m a doggie, I’m growl... RAH.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Jordan approved.  “That’s good! Keep doing that.”

As he snapped away, little Brooke began gumming Tobias’s cheek, leaving him and Casey laughing with that overjoyed grin only new parents seemed to achieve.

SNAP!

 “That’s going to be the winning shot right there!” Jordan declared.

“Thanks, brother,” Tobias smiled, shaking Jordan’s hand. “Are you coming to the party?”

“Do you have room in your car? I thought you were taking Mom?  Where did she go anyway?”

A guilty-looking Vivian turned around just before she entered the front door.

Casey couldn’t help but laugh. “Vivian. Were you heading in for the Butterfingers? I can easily get you your own bag on the way back home. There is no need to steal Tobias’s.”

“It’s da pwinciple,” Sammy giggled as Casey rubbed her temples.

“Oh, no! I can’t handle three of them!”

“Mom, get in the car already,” Jordan cackled. “I’ll stay behind and edit the pictures.  I'll join you for trick or treating after.”

“Editing?” Tobias shrugged.  “Look at these subjects? They'll be perfect. What do you have to do?”

“Uhm... photoshop your hand to a more appropriate place on your wife. It is a family photo, big brother,” he snickered. “Talk about butterfingers.”

“Oh, for the love of God!” Vivian spat out, holding Sammy’s ears. “The amount of therapy your poor child is going to need!”

“She’ll be just fine,” Casey laughed. “Now, Tobias, please drive, we’re running late.”

"Fine," he said, starting the car, but not before yelling out the window. "Jordan!"

"Yeah?"

"Leave my hand exactly where it was," he winked. "We're married, for God's sake."

"Ah, yes," Casey sighed. "It's a very Carrick Halloween."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @openheartfanart

Other tags on reblog.

[littlepeakydevil]

Part 1: These Devilish Intentions

Chapter 6: Black Heart

Warnings: None.

Prev Chapter • Series • Part 1 • Next Chapter

“Do you think I should dye my hair?”

Tommy looked up from where he’d been rolling a cigarette between his fingers, digesting the report Lily had just given him on her findings surrounding the man she’d been following for the past few weeks.

“What?”

Lily twisted a lock of auburn hair around her finger absentmindedly. “If I’m going to be killing and spying for you, it might be best if I don’t have such recognizable features. This,” she raised the hair she’d been fiddling with, “is pretty damn distinguishable.”

Tommy frowned, lowering his cigarette to the ashtray, considering her suggestion. Never before had he known someone with hair quite like hers, the color a deep, rich red. A beacon of bright color amongst the gray smoke and soot of Small Heath. It hadn’t taken long for the red color to become associated with her in his mind. Deadly and beautiful. While she spoke of her hair’s distinguishable features as if it were a curse, he found himself to have grown quite fond of it.

During the past few weeks she had spent on her little spy mission for him, she’d been wearing a black wig to more easily blend in and avoid arousing suspicions. The wig was currently tossed haphazardly onto the table in front of them. Tommy couldn’t say that he would mourn its demise. Seeing her with it on felt odd; wrong, even. Like a core part of her was being suppressed. Eyes narrowing, he tried to picture her as a brunette or blonde and promptly pursed his lips at the idea. No, neither of those would do at all. He reached a hand across to lightly take the lock of hair between his fingers. Not tugging, but lightly twisting it.

“Don’t ever dye your hair,” he said softly. “I’ll buy you some more wigs.”

Lily looked at him with wide eyes. They were a warm shade of brown. Like a sunset. “Okay.”

He allowed himself one quick moment to rub the soft lock of red between his thumb and index finger before letting it fall and leaning back. It would be pointless to deny that he had grown fond of her. A feeling that only grew with the time they spent together. 

They were more alike than he could have possibly imagined. The same sorrowful gaze that he couldn’t fully banish from his eyes reflected back at him in hers. The quiet rage at the injustice of the world. The need for the work that they did, lest they be left alone too long with their own thoughts and fall to pieces.

But she was funny, when she wanted to be. In a way that often forced him to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. And she wasn’t afraid of him, not even a fraction. Recently, when it was just the two of them, he felt…lighter. Like he could let the mask he held so carefully in place slip away and just be himself for a moment. No need to guard his emotions so tightly to his chest.

It was no secret that the people of Birmingham all thought him to be a monster. Even his own family was beginning to believe it. Convinced that his heart was but a shriveled, black husk inside his chest. That was if it even existed at all.

But Lily never treated him that way. She saw right through all the barriers and carefully constructed walls around his mind and heart. Somehow, he had managed to convince her of the existence of his compassion. And when she had rested her head on his chest that one time, after those men had accosted her, he just about melted. Wanting to scream, “do you hear it? Do you hear my heart beating, Lily? Do you hear that all the horrible things you’ve heard about me are not entirely true?”

Coughing, as if doing so could dispel the thoughts muddling his mind, Tommy shifted in his seat.

“So. You’re telling me that they’re all meeting at a pub, every Wednesday in the afternoon?”

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Those boys that jumped John, the ones I blinded? They were part of the group too.” She tapped a speck of ash from her cigarette into the ashtray. “And there’s something else. They have an informant in the Blinders. I think his name is Jeremy? Tall guy, with black hair and a tattoo here,” she tapped her inner left wrist. Tommy nodded. He knew the man. A quiet soul, often meandering silently in the backs of pubs, watching the goings on with shrewd black eyes.

“Anything else?” He stubbed out his cigarette and immediately pulled out another, swiping it along his lips once before lighting it.

“Actually, yeah. There’s someone outside of Birmingham supplying them with additional funds. They’ve promised to send them more guns.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. They mentioned letters, but I couldn’t get my hands on any.”

He nodded, eyes darting away from her as he considered. “We’ll need to move fast, before they get their hands on any weapons. Otherwise they’ll be harder to put down,” he spoke more to himself than to her. “I’m calling a family meeting.” He stood and reached for his coat. “Come on. I want you there.” 

A spark of surprise ignited behind her eyes. “You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure that’ll be alright?”

“I’m the boss, Lily. It’s alright if I say it is.” He held out a hand to her, those small, pale fingers sliding into his. He was unable to stop himself from staring at the dense freckles that covered her skin as he helped pull her to her feet. Shrugging her coat on, Lily followed him out of the Garrison and into the smoky Birmingham air. It was beginning to get cold. He suspected that they would be getting their first snowfall within the next week or so.

“Family meeting,” he said to Polly, having barely even stepped inside the house. “Now.”

Slowly, the rest of the Shelbys began to make their way into the kitchen. Tommy leaned against the wall, lighting another cigarette while he waited. Lily hovered near him, hands braced behind her against the counter.

“What’s she doing here?” Polly asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Oh, give it a rest, Pol,” Arthur groaned, slouching over in a chair. 

“Lily has provided us with invaluable information about the men who have been resisting us, Pol. She deserves to be here,” Tommy said sternly. Polly’s lips pressed together in a thin line, but she conceded with a slight lowering of her head.

“So what’s all this about, Tom?” John asked. Tommy sighed heavily, rolling his head back.

“We have a problem.”

—

She watched quietly from her spot braced against the kitchen counter, the Shelbys all looking to be about five seconds away from strangling each other. Polly and John were shouting, Arthur glowering with his arms crossed over his chest. Ada was very passive aggressively spreading jam across a piece of toast. Tommy was pinching at the bridge of his nose, clearly nursing a headache. 

Watching them now, it really was a miracle that they had gone as long as they had without one of them murdering the others.

The argument broke out shortly after Tommy relayed to them her report. And that if they wanted to stamp out this growing rebellion against them before it became uncontainable, they would have to make their move. Fast. 

“How many men are we even talking about here?” Polly asked, rounding suddenly to Lily.

“No more than ten,” she said softly. “There are others who have become interested in their ideas lately, but it’s those core ten, including Jeremy, that are the main source of the problem. You get rid of them, you’ll effectively kill their message.”

“Just pay them off,” Polly gave a frustrated wave of her hand. “There’s no need for such an excessive show of force over ten troublemakers.”

“If you do that, suddenly everyone else will start to wonder if maybe they can get a few extra pounds by roughing up a few Blinders,” Lily shook her head. “And if you leave them be, their ideas about rebelling will continue to spread. You need to remind the people that this type of resistance isn’t acceptable.”

“So you’re going to just waltz in there and shoot up ten men in a pub on a Wednesday afternoon?” Polly looked at Tommy. “What if one of you gets shot?”

Tommy sighed. “We’ll bring reinforcements. They won’t be expecting it.”

“No,” Lily’s voice was quiet. “They’ve been looking for an opportunity to take one or all of you out. You walk into that pub, they’ll recognize you immediately, and you’ll be shot on sight.”

“So we send some of our boys instead,” Arthur sat up from where he had been leaning forward against the kitchen table.

“Jeremy will recognize anyone who’s a Blinder the second they step through the door.”

“Shit,” Polly groaned, burying her face in her hands, and the shouting began again.

“We need to deal with this now-”

“I really would rather not get shot-”

“Maybe if we try going in from the back-”

“Polly, do you have any good recipes for poison-”

Lily rubbed at her temple, the voices beginning to overlap and merge with each other into a distant hum.

“Just send me,” her voice was barely even a whisper, and yet they all froze mid-sentence to stare at her.

“What?” Tommy asked quietly.

“Jeremy has barely interacted with me. He doesn’t know my face. If he did he would have sounded the alarm as soon as I stepped into that pub. I can get in close enough and they won’t suspect me.”

“You’re talking about taking on ten men on your own,” Polly shook her head. “You’ll be killed.”

“Not if I hit them fast enough and take them by surprise. And if I make sure that they’re good and drunk first.”

“How’d you reckon you’ll accomplish that?”

“Pose as a barmaid. I’ve gotten friendly with the girl who works Wednesday afternoons. I can convince her to take the day off and let me work in her place.”

“I have something,” Polly chimed back in, “and no, it isn’t poison, John, but it’ll make them more drowsy. Slow reaction times. You could put it in their drinks.”

Lily nodded, the plan slowly beginning to take shape. She glanced to the side, where Tommy was leaning against the wall. His lips had set into a firm line, jaw clenched. But she could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes as he thought it over.

“Unless anyone else has any better ideas,” she glanced around. No one said anything. 

“What about the other people in the pub?” John asked.

“It’s usually quiet around that time on Wednesdays. That’s why they meet then.”

“Tommy?” Polly asked, clearly also noting his silence. He cleared his throat, expression taking on that stony, guarded look that Lily had come to learn meant that he was trying very hard to hide what he was actually feeling.

“Yep. Sounds like a plan,” the dismissal in his voice was clear as day. “You hit them next Wednesday. Start preparing.” He stubbed his cigarette out into the ashtray and began to head for the door. “Meeting over.”

Lily watched as the door swung shut behind him, taken aback by his sudden coldness. She thought that he would at the very least be pleased. They would soon be doing away with what had become a rather annoying thorn in all of their sides. 

And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was upset. Or that she had done something wrong. 

“Right,” she mumbled, foot moving to tap anxiously against the floor.    

—

She checked, and then double checked to make sure that the pistol was loaded properly and that there would be limited likelihood of it jamming or otherwise malfunctioning. Satisfied, she set it down onto the bed in a row with the other three, fingers sliding carefully along the cool, black metal.

“You know it isn’t Wednesday yet, right?”

She turned to find Tommy leaning against the doorframe, removing his hat to stuff it into his coat pocket.

“How’d you get in?” she asked, but was unable to suppress a small smile at his presence.

“Magic.”

She giggled, pulling a knife from its sheath and wiping it down with a cloth. “I’m just…making sure everything’s ready.” 

“Nervous?”

Her shoulders shrugged noncommittally. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“You don’t have to do this.” The omission took her by surprise, straightening to look at him with unhidden confusion. Tommy looked away, down at his shoes. Almost shyly.

“It’s part of what you brought me on for,” she murmured, puzzled. Tommy shook his head.

“That doesn’t mean–” he sighed, leaning his head back, clearly frustrated. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him at a loss for words before. “I don’t want you to feel as though you have to do something just because I want it done. You do have a choice,” his gaze was intense, more so than usual. “I need you to know that.”

“We made a deal.”

His head was shaking before she even finished saying it. “You’ve already more than paid your debt. I’m not—I’ll still protect you from them. But I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

She sheathed the blade and placed it down beside the revolvers. Sitting on the bed, her head tilted, mattress dipping beneath her weight.

“Are you feeling alright?” 

That got a laugh from him, moving to sit beside her. 

“Never thought of you to be much of a worrier.”

“I’m not,” he sighed. She wasn’t entirely sure that she believed him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine.”

  “You…you’re important to me,” he said. “To the company,” he added swiftly. She hoped that her eyes didn’t show the disappointment she felt at that add-on. “It would be a pain in the ass to find someone who’s as good of an assistant as you are.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing that I don’t plan on dying then.” Eyes narrowing to playful slits, she bit back another smile, remembering their conversation long ago in that field, sitting beneath a great tree while their horses grazed in the meadow. “This is because I’m short, isn’t it? You think that I can’t handle ten men because they outweigh me?”

Chuckling, Tommy, shook his head. “No. It isn’t that.”

“Because you’re not particularly tall yourself, you know.”

His brows shot up, looking like he was trying very hard to appear incensed, but she could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“Compared to you I am.”

“Get out.”

He laughed, fingers curling over hers. “Just be careful.”

There was something in his eyes. A crack that led beyond the layers of strength and coldness that he had wrapped himself in. A vulnerability. A desperate, quiet psychic call. It curled around her, much like his presence had back in Charlie’s yard. Then the chant had been a deep, tempting offer: 

Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.

But now it was something else. Not a chant so much as a plea. Interlaced with desperate longing:

Come back to me.

A flutter of amusement echoed in her chest. Some terrifying monster he turned out to be. Teetering on boyish shyness in his worry for her. Protective and gentle. 

Fingers squeezing around his, she scooted just a breath closer to him. Until their shoulders brushed and she could smell the smoke in his coat.

“I promise.”

Prev Chapter • Series • Part 1 • Next Chapter

[thedivaking]

So~ These were my free thoughts/reactions for Hamilton while watching😂😂 (I'm not including all scenes cuz I can't remember what I thought lol)

While watching, I did a lot of research (Not for the two Georges tho, I knew who they were )

" waw, Hamilton is so outspoken"

*me googling Hamilton* HE GOT SHOT? WHO SHOT HIM??? (I'm Trinidadian, I don't know American history so well 😫)

"That headband guy, Mulligan is so cool!"

"Gosh, Poor Burr. And he's gonna shoot Hamilton at the end~ well"

"Ohh Seabury! He sounds British. I think he's the King's representative. Seabury sounds like a British name already"

*listening to guns and ships* this gives Eminem.

"Sees king George"~ "I know him"

*listening to You'll be back* SLAYY GEORGE!!!

"You're making me maddd/ when you're gone, I'll go mad~ love the pun. "

"The tea which you hurled in the sea..... ~ ohh it's a Boston tea party reference!"

Listening I know him~ "aww his crazy little laugh~ aaaa"

"The Schuyler sisters!! Work! Now who's who? Thank you very much for singing your names"

Listening to what comes next "kg sounds so sad. The last da da day da really touched me"

"Awesome! Waw! ~ that's when I realised that groff is gay because of his voice. And he slays. I love him ❤️❤️.

"Gosh Hamilton, you could have kept it in your pants"

Maria enters*** (is that a kidnapper? She was in darkness so that's why 😫😅)

I thought she was sent by Jefferson or someone else to dirty Hamilton's water~

"Is it Maria or Mariah? I don't know"

(My name being Mariah 😭)

I don't have any time to seduce hamilton (I'm having tea with king george, and waiting for the damn pamphlet to be published!)

James Reynolds ( he reminds me of this lawyer who lives in the area I'm from 😂~ sorry)

Thomas Jefferson is so sassy. And Daveed is just really talented. But the real TJ scares me.

"Awww Angelica. I'm sorry for her"

"Where's George Washington's powdered wig?"

"Why do you write like you're running out of time~ me while writing my fanfics (its mdzs related fanfics btw. I haven't written any Hamfics)

George Washington is giving older guardian vibes. Like old man vibes 😫.

"Where's the man's wig~ Gosh, Washington is so deep! Dying is easy but living is harder"

King George is so cute 😌 and I already learnt about him from Historytok so. And obviously I love him in queen charlotte.

But I have only learnt about his life with porphyria. His family life~ descendants~

" John Adams???? Who's that? He spoke to Kg so long ago🥱"

~

It's like I got into Hamilton when I heard some of the songs all over tiktok and YouTube. So I decided to watch the musical❤️.

Don't worry~ I know about the history refs now🤭

[georgiapeach30513]

Omg those bruises from the Civil War set were real?! All this time I thought it's makeup! Tbf I've only seen the movie once in its entirety, that too like 3 weeks before Endgame(I refused to see the movie knowing how they butchered Steve's arc😒) so I always wondered which scene they did those bruises for. Now that I know they're real.....damn, I wonder how many injuries he has sustained doing these movies and action movies in general. also am i weird for finding him bruised and battered in the steve wig and casual clothes hot af?

I mean, they’re claiming their real. And his lip is swollen, so I would assume that at least that’s real. The bruise could be real, and they “enhanced” it and worked it into the movie.

I’d assume he’s sustained a lot more injuries than he’s even reported. Because he’s done a lot of action movies. I think learning to skateboard he probably got some.

Uhh, no. I want to hold him, and tell him its okay. And then clean him and make him feel safe. Dirty men are hot. I said what I said.

[mudandmire]

OOhh I love these questions!! (lmao, I see you Wigs)

Long Story- I have to go waaaay back. I think at first I was drawn to how out of the blue it was. Azris popped up on my feed once and I laughed and said, "surely not!" And then dug deeper into it because, from where I stood, these two had nothing to do with each other. And then. Oh, and then. I went deep. Reddit posts, Tumblr metas, fanart (chefs kiss), and I slowly donned my tinfoil hat with the biggest grin. Because these characters, though they intrigued me separately, consumed me together. And then I started reading fics. And oh. Oh Man, I was Completely Lost. The talent, the craft, the dynamic that came alive with these creators, and I had So Much Fun experiencing the dynamic that they inspired me to get back into writing. 

Honestly, I don't really know if I have a consistent theme that I explore in my fics?? I do love my motifs and imagery, but none of them are the same in each fic so I think in general I explore different motifs when I write Azris.

I think by far my favorite fic I've ever written for Azris, maybe my favorite thing I've written ever, is 'In This House'. The premise was way out of my comfort zone, and something I'd never done before, but man, seeing that fic come together and mold out of its original concept idea was addictive. Watching each layer of narrative peel away until I was left with the heart of it, what it was telling me to focus writing on. Damn. Seriously proud of that one.

Bold of you to assume I'm organized enough to have a routine. Yeah, no, sometimes I get ideas and most of the time I write down the bare bones of it. Like a paragraph of concept. But I think most of it comes down to rumination. Most of the construction work is done in my head just thinking through the story I want to tell, and then looking to the left, seeing what kind of avenues are available that I'm not looking at properly. dunno if that makes any sense, but finding the right vibe for the tone helps, so usually I'll also pair that with a specific song or sound that inspires in me a particular emotion. Like, for 'In This House' I literally just happened upon a song called 'In This House' in the early stages that had the right haunting, loving tone I was going for.

I'm terrible at headcanons, so uh, here goes nothing. For Eris I suppose I like the idea that he enjoys long baths in his Secret Gay Cabin and also has a little journal full of sketches of flora he finds in the woods. For Azriel, I guess I've always imagined he has the most abysmal handwriting, not because of the scarring, but because he simply does not care enough to put That Much effort into writing reports. And for Azris, goodness, I don't know what constitutes as a head canon lmao, but I love the idea that Azriel is the only one who can see through Eris's pompous language into the truth of what he's saying. I like the idea that when they're together, Eris can be snarky like always, but sometimes he could just say "I'm tired" instead of avoiding it, and Azriel will accommodate. ALSO same goes for Azriel, Eris gives him room in every space, every conversation, to say more than he thinks he needs to. (maybe that's how Eris learns Azriel is quite the talker in bed ehe).

No I have not.

Maybe!

I have two things that are going to continue after Azris week and I'm very excited to explore them further. One of them is the therapy au, which is my beloved right now, and I just hope I do right by Azriel and Eris in that situation lol.

uh, not gonna lie, non-fiction short stories, personal essays, fiction short stories, etc. I had the opportunity to read and edit A BUNCH of short stories these past couple of months and learn more about what makes them work, their structure, and all that. Also, other fics and writers!! I love that I read about these two losers falling in love over and over again, and every time I see a new way their connection is described, it's like I discovered them all over again. It just inspires me more! Nature, too, plus music. I like to shake them up in a cocktail maker and see what comes out ehehe.

Been there, baby, everyone has, and you're not alone in that situation. I'd say to being stalled, start something new. That's what I needed, I was so stuck on the idea that this one idea had to be It, had to be Perfect, and yet I've enjoyed myself so much more working on all of these little one-shots just to see the limits of what I can do in them. I'd say to anyone who wants to participate in Azris week but doesn't feel ready or good enough or whatever other lies their brains tell them- DO IT!! Write your thing and Do It. I know that's what everyone says, like 'perfection isn't possible you just have to get the words out' but they're RIGHT so just send out your little thing, your imperfect attempt, but it's Yours, and see what happens!!

Azris Week 2025 Self-Spotlight

Only five more days until the main event! To continue fostering more community between Azris creators, instead of having user-submitted writers or artists answer some questions, creators can interview themselves!

Pretend you can see my jazz hands.

These questions are for ALL Azris creators - writers, mood board creators, artists, you get the idea! At the end of Azris Week, anyone who has filled out the below interview will get added to a master list so that everyone can see your thoughts. Feel free to add your own questions at the bottom, if you think of anything else you’d like to say about your Azris Week creations.

If you aren’t doing anything for Azris Week 2025 but want to participate anyway, go ahead! No one will stop you and you’ll still be included in the master list.

Questions

1. What drew you to Azris?

2. What themes do you explore most often in your fics? Do you have a favorite image or location that you return to again and again?

3. What is your favorite fic/art that you’ve made? Why?

4. What is your writing/drawing/painting setup? Do you have a routine that you follow?

5. Give a favorite headcanon about Azriel and Eris, separately, and Azriel and Eris, together.

6. Have you worn wigs?

7. Will you wear wigs?

8. What upcoming projects are you excited about?

9. Name some influences on your writing or art style - could be fellow writers, poets, singers, nature, etc.

10. What encouragement would you give someone who is just beginning a project? Someone who is stalled on a project? Someone losing steam/interest?

[contaiinedarmageddon2]

❌ Sollux dealing with purple blood clowns

It took a truly extraordinary set of circumstances to get Sollux to ever willingly deal with the purples and their almost mandatory clown cult. So when whatever sick twist of fate saw the Dark Carnival Committee's scheduled shipment of faygo fall through and brought them through dubious multiversal channels to his digital door, he was ready to slam it in their face. It had only taken minutes of video calling to have him sick of the greasepainted face and oily words of the contracting agent.

Before his finger could delicately reach for the killswitch (and it would certainly kill more than just their connection) a muffled voice interjected from off camera. Before the sleazy idiot could make a complaint, a hand easily came down to palm his head, horns and all, and lift him up to deposit off screen. Sollux could only see one mammoth leg stretch across the viewport before an enormous body squatted down, leaving the camera facing a ponderously heavy set of honkers. The fact that the conversation continued largely with that occasionally wobbling pair, what was their name? Maenad? Left Sollux the greased up one when they eventually tilted the camera upwards to her face and got a torturous agreement out of him.

The delivery itself wasn't much of a hassle. Faygo wasn't really a controlled substance on Alternia, only a defacto one by virtue of being hassled by fucking clowns if you carried much of it at once. When he could just 'appropriate' a truckload of it from a less insane universe things were simpler. Where complications set in was the gate. Sollux had half expected to drive the whole truck into the middle of the riot of tents and fairy lights and ditch it there. Having to submit to a border checkpoint manned by some touchy tealblood with a wave scanner was out of the blue. Apparently the big (clown) wigs had to put in new rules this time. "They're all fine with spontaneous subjuggulating to liven up the party, but they can't go letting someone in with a bag of pipe bombs like last time. That's just not sporting." or so the guard rattled off to him. The scans were forwarded ahead, and eventually he was given the go ahead.

Once he'd parked the truck at the big supply tent Sollux had initially planned to get his payment and fly the fuck out of there in short order. Jiggle-induced shortsightedness had missed a flaw in that plan though. A whole carnival of mainly purplebloods. Chucklevoodoo bullshit abounds both on purpose and accidentally. Psionics were a complete no go. He'd have to hoof it out, and get paid at that. It was impossible to tell if it was paranoia or long-honed lowblood instincts that told him a few too many highbloods were staring at him. There also seemed to be a disproportionate amount of lady clowns (he would NOT use the J word) hanging around the administrative tent, attached to some larger structure in front of it, where he was to meet the Big Woman.

She was seated again when he entered through the flaps, and damn this one had definitely gotten an advance on their next couple growth spurts. As something of an expert on the topic, Sollux figured he'd have barely come up to her groin were she standing. She looked away from some screens as he entered, and he could've sworn one was the scans from earlier before her body obscured them all with its width.

"hey if iT ain'T The deliveryman!" The huge troll declared, encapsulating his hand in one giant mitt to shake.

"yeah that's me. the truck full 0f your g0op's in the agreed tent. pay me up and i can get 0ut of y0ur hair." And good lord she had a lot of that. What was it with huge women and huge hair? It was an unhealthy type for Sollux to have.

"hey slow your roll There! you'll geT the caegars, buT iT's a party man. why don'T you sTick around and chill? my Treat. i Think the faiThful like your vibe anyway. so serious. a biT TwiTchy." She offered, long arms gesturing outward in welcome.

Having to insist more than once to get paid was always a bad sign. But he could see a safe in the corner of the room, tempting him. "wish i c0uld, but i do have t0 make go0d on 0ther deals tonight. s0 i should really g0."

Rather than respond directly, she seemed to be tilting her head slide to side in slight movements to his words. "you goT a funny way of Talking There. iT's all lilTing and shiT. i like iT. here Try This iT'l Take the edge off. privaTe sTock." And before he could turn down the obvious faygo offer he watched her reach deep between her jugs, aptly named given their water cooler shaming size, and retrieve a bottle of purple liquid to hand to him.

Maybe it was being absolutely saturated in chucklevoodoo energy and more than likely a lot of secondhand drug smoke, but Sollux stupidly took the bottle and sighed. "fine. i can stick ar0und a bit. until the last drop is drained, alright?" He twisted it open and took a swig as a show of good faith. God that was vile, and while it may have been faygo derived there was a distinctly different taste to it. Alcohol maybe? Certainly something harsh. Chahut, the large troll's name and probably the last bit of information he was able to retain while lucid, grinned widely at the acceptance.

"shiT ThaT's sick. the mirThful masses and my gals are gonna love iT." While Sollux started to question what the hell that even meant, he was cut off by her continuing "hey since you're sTicking around like a good sporT we oughT To geT you someThing. show off our miraculous good faiTh. you inTeresTed in a fuckin bonus?"

A unwise reflex over took him and he took another gulp of the concoction, spurred in part by force of habit and in part by nerves as the mammoth purple had been leaning (and by default, looming) over closer to him since he'd accepted.

"a what? i mean, f0r what? i guess i'm at least interested." He finally managed to string the words together, feeling both parched and slightly too-hot as the behemoth had fully sidled up next to him, her surprisingly soft side overflowing into his space while a bottle tapped against his, pulled from who-knows-where in the shadowy, swirling colors that were beginning to make up the edges of Sollux's vision. They shared another drink.

"shiT yeah yellow man. iT will be worTh all our whiles. i'll geT The sisters." Her words seemed even more distant than her head was from his. Finally, the psionic found himself drifting away into darkness.

//UNTIL WE GET TO PART TWOOO. That's right i'll be doing the second part in answer to the other ask I got since they have now welded together in my head. Should be basically all action, as I have never been able to stop myself from wasting time setting the stage.

Forgive whatever certain mischaracterization that is of Chahut. The Big Clown Honkers have their major appeal but I've never interacted with the slightest thing hiveswap and aint about to do research for an elaborate bit of flash porn.