#Falling Down (1992)

[vomittedsoap]

top twelve possibly autistic characters in movies/tv. I love them.

One of these is a murderous psychopath.... the answer may surprise you... (it's Mark Corrigan)

[also Dave from Mystic River and Dr. Nathan Bronfman from Human Nature and the guy from Nothing to Lose but I can't have so many Tim Robbins ones ripppp...he just plays that kind of character too well.]

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Dude, fuckin love Skittery

What a guy

[moviegroovies]

TOP MOVIES 2024

10. ghostbusters: frozen empire (2024)

9. trainspotting (1996)

8. saturday night fever (1977)

7. kfc (2016)

6. the quick and the dead (1995)

5. bamboozled (2000)

4. zombie for sale (2019)

3. tank girl (1995)

2. do the right thing (1989)

the killing of a sacred deer (2017)

[norrisainz33]

the call || platonic grid & gr63

☆ summary: y/n y/l/n gets a call up to race for alpine with 6 races left in the 2024 season and she’s got something to prove.

☆ pairing: platonic!grid x crush!george russell x rookie!female!reader

☆ fc & warnings: no fc. some hate comments and poor grammar on my end

☆ a/n: i was inspired by franco and liam getting called up to race for the remainder of the season and here we are. no hate to este bestie, just pretending dw. this is not supposed to be accurate to exactly how things have been playing out. smau mixed with writing!!

part 2 | part 3

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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f1: 🚨 breaking: y/n y/l/n will be racing under the number 95 for alpine for the remainder of the 2024 season alongside pierre gasly. y/n’s first race will be the united states grand prix. this is the first time since 1992 that a woman has raced in a grand prix format - this will be a historic weekend.

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user1: this is the best thing to ever happen to me you don’t understand

pierregasly: ready to attack the rest of the season with you ynuser!!

ynuser: here’s to a strong finish 💪🏻

alpinef1team: we can’t wait to have our girl on track!

user12: they really think a woman is going to be any better than what they had??? please….

user1: oh you are miserable. get out of here

georgerussell63: epic! ynuser i am so proud of you

ynuser: 🤍 see you in austin

user2: i can’t believe im witnessing a woman f1 driver in my life time. i am crying real tears of joy

landonorris: from our karting days to f1. you are amazing ynuser! looking forward to being on track with you

ynuser: so glad to be racing with you again lando 🤍

user3: this is monumental

user6: we got a woman in f1 before gta6

✿

you sat in silence staring down at the paperwork in front of you. everyone had long since left returning to their duties, allowing you to process what you had just been told. “it’s really happening,” you whispered feeling tears welling in your eyes. you were about to become an f1 driver - a real life f1 driver!! and no, not just a reserve driver who did nothing but the sim all day every day. your shoulders sagged as you blew out a sigh. “it was all worth it,” you thought back to the years of blood, sweat and tears put into racing — from leaving the comfort of your childhood home to go karting in europe, to watching your parents give up everything to make sure your dreams came true, to finding yourself in f1 academy where you won the championship, to fighting for a chance to race in f2 and becoming the only woman to finish in the points - you had given everything to this sport and you were finally getting your chance.

you picked up your phone and dialed your best friend. “y/n? hi! did you have your meeting yet?!”

“i’m going to drive the rest of the season,” you said softly.

“WHAT?!” your best friend practically screamed into the other end of the phone.

“i’m taking the second alpine seat!!! im going to be starting in austin.” the tears of happiness started falling now.

“oh my god y/n/n!!!! YOU DID IT BABY YOU DID IT!” you could hear your best friend jumping up and down in excitement.

“i did it.”

✿

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user1: i can't explain to you how excited i am to see you on track this weekend y/n

pierregasly: jealous you got the media duties with the horses and not the american football team like i did.....

ynuser: HAHA idk why they didnt send us together

pierregasly: they knew our joint slay would be too much to handle

user7: as a young woman in a male dominated field... thank you for representing us. i love you and i am so proud of you

yourbff: my flight lands in exactly 1 hour and i am shaking with excitement

ynuser: if you think you're shaking with excitement you should see me... just got word im in the pre race press conference with george and max v......... pray for me girl

yourbff: okok we knew this was going to happen. of course they'll want to talk to you!! you're the new face on the grid

ynuser: is it bad to admit im afraid?

yourbff: admitting you’re afraid just means you’re human y/n. you're allowed to feel

ynuser: idk what i'd do with out you

yourbff: you'll never have to know! now go get ready!! i'll be there just in enough time to make the conference start.

yourbff: p.s your media day fit absolutely ate that dress and the cowgirl hat was lethal. f1 should be thanking you for being such a baddie

georgerussell63: howdy ms y/n

ynuser: howdy georgie --- see you at the press conference 🙂‍↔️

georgerussell63: looking forward to it

landonorris: NEIGHHHH

ynuser: lando?

landonorris: sorry was pretending to be one of those horses so you'd pay attention to me

ynuser: hahahahaha you muppet. ive missed you

landonorris: i missed you too y/n/n! believe it or not i miss fighting it out on track with you too. ready to smoke ya just like i did in our karting days

ynuser: i mean you are in a mclaren and have a lot of practice so id certainly hope you were faster than me

landonorris: well when you put it like that its not as fun.......

user9: bought an alpine hat and am bedazzling a shirt with your name on it as we speak

✿

the alpine pr team had wasted no time sitting you down as soon as you got to austin. they ran through what to expect from your media duties, how to respond to any and all questions that might be thrown your way and how to save face if needed but somehow as you sat down on the iconic white couch and looked out at the crowd of reporters forming in front of you, you felt all of that training start to fail you. the nerves were taking over as george and max took their spots to your right. you were thankful when the british driver gave you a reassuring smile and a slight nod letting you know it was ok.

"good afternoon and welcome to the 2024 united states grand prix!" the interviewer beamed at the camera before turning his attention to the three of you. "today we are joined by max verstappen, george russell and formula 1's newest driver, y/n y/l/n."

the interviewer started by asking max about the championship and how he was feeling about lando continuing to close the gap. you used that time to steady your breathing, knowing a question was headed your way at any moment. "y/n, first of all, i want to say congratulations!" the interviewer grinned and you smiled back. "you are coming into this season with only 6 races left and a rather tall order to get up to speed quickly for some points and fight for a seat on the grid in 2025. how are you feeling about it all?"

you sighed, relieved at an easy first question, "thank you! i'm trying to take it all in stride. it's definitely a tall order because these guys have had 19 races to get a feel for their cars, work with their teams, and solidify their standings… i'm going to have exactly one free practice to learn everything before heading into sprint qualifying and i think that puts me a little bit on the back foot. though, i am more confident than ever that i can pull out some points and finish this season strong for alpine."

the interviewer nodded along intently as you spoke, "do you think being the first female in formula 1 since 1992 also puts you a bit on the back foot?"

this. this was the type of question you were dreading. you knew what it was like to be questioned about your skills purely because you were a woman, it had been happening throughout your entire life but that didn't mean it still didn't get to you. you picked your mic back up but before you could say anything into it, george was already speaking, "i don't think thats a fair question to ask. her being a woman has nothing to do with her racing, let us not forget that she is here for a reason. y/n has an incredibly impressive resume and i'd be happy to recite it for you if you need the reminder."

*george fcking russell. the man that you are* you thought as a smirk formed on your face. "thank you george," you said managing to keep your voice steady as you continued, "i don't think being a woman puts me on the back foot at all. it's 2024 - i think we're past the point of asking questions like this. I may be the first woman in way too long to race in a grand prix but i certainly will not be the last." you put the microphone down, daring the interviewer to say something in return but instead he turned his attention back to max and kept it there for the remainder of the session which you weren't mad about at all.

✿

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ynuser: p9 baby!!!!!! i scored two points!!!! cota - thank you for the love and for an incredible first weekend in formula 1. i will never forget you 🤍

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user9: best weekend of my life!!!! first gp i’ve ever been to and i got to meet you at the fan zone!! i couldn’t have asked for more

alpinef1team: try not to say goat challenge failed

ynuser: 🤍🩷

user10: i sobbed watching you cross the line

pierregasly: points points points points

ynuser: you next bestie!!

pierregasly: we’re going to both score big this triple header i just know it

user13: i love how these two have become instant friends. i hope alpine doesn’t split my family up in abu dhabi

user44: history - we’re watching you make history

francisca.cgomes: i don’t think you understand how attached i am to you now y/n

ynuser: and i don’t think you understand how much i love you kika. legally you have to come to all the rest of the races please and thank you

francisca.cgomes: for you? done!

pierregasly: um? hello?

ynuser: im sorry p.. look away

yourbff: i have no words. i love you more than life itself

ynuser: i love you - thank you for being there

landonorris: statement MADE

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

georgerussell63: i’m so proud of you im about to openly weep

ynuser: we can openly weep together

carlossainz55: congrats y/n!

ynuser: thank you carlos 🤍

francolapinto: viva y/n!

ynuser: viva franco!

lewishamilton: 🤍🤍

ynuser: 🩷🩷

user15: noticing so many of the drivers here supporting her is everything

user4: and the fact that so many of them are praising her efforts and talking so highly of her in interviews 🥹

user15: everyone loves her (except for the rbr duo, did you see her and checo having words after that race?)

user4: omg yeah grandpa was pissed but honestly he’s probably just worried she’s going to take his seat

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user9: pretty, talented, smart … you’re the whole package

landonorris: hell yeah it does. the car will be here in about an hour! meet us in the lobby?

ynuser: yes!! assuming we shouldn’t come down too early since we run the risk of people being down there?

landonorris: yeah, no more than 5 mins before

user10: hottest person on the grid no doubt

georgerussell63: blimey i’m excited

ynuser: me too! i need a drink after this weekend

georgerussell63: you better get used to it y/n! this is your life now

ynuser: and i’m glad it is 🤍

user14: i think i have a crush on you

oscarpiastri: hi

ynuser: hi oscar!! did lando send you the details for tonight?

oscarpiastri: yes he did!

pierregasly: me and kika are ready to GO

ynuser: me and y/bff are too! let’s get this party started

user11: keep this momentum going into mexico y/n!!

user4: we needed a chronically online it girl in this sport so bad im so glad you’re here

✿

george poured you another glass of champagne as you giggled, "i should really be sick of champagne by now but i don't know that i ever will be."

"well thats good y/n/n! you're going to be drinking a lot more of it soon enough," george said loud enough that you could hear him over the music. the club was packed with more people than you would've expected for sunday evening especially a sunday evening in texas but here you were in a packed club chugging champagne with old and new friends. oscar, lily, carlos, rebecca, lando, george, pierre, kika, franco, charles and alex all came out with you and y/bff and you were honestly a bit shocked by the turn out. though you should've known that lando and george were not going to let you celebrate by yourself.

you had grown up with the two of them on the karting track and you even managed to be in f2 in the same year george won the championship. they meant a lot to you -- you looked up to them since the start so to have their unwavering support now that you made it to f1 meant more than you could express. none of this was going to be easy but being surrounded by a strong support system would make it a lot less painful.

you smiled up at george as he downed the last bit of his cocktail, intently watching as the last little bit dripped from the side of his mouth. you took a big gulp reminding yourself of the room of people around you. that was another thing that was around since your karting days... your massive crush on george. while you both had seen other people between now and then, there was no doubt that it was still alive and well. but as far as that was concerned, it was a bit of a one sided crush. it's not that george had ever told you outright that he wasn't interested, you just never had the guts to tell him and he only ever made one move and has been ignoring that it happened since. the closest you two ever got to something more than friends was the night after he won the f2 championship. you two were inseparable during that season so when he asked you to come with him back to his hotel room after his massive party, you didn't think twice about it. you two flopped down onto the bed with your takeaway meal fresh in front of you and the tv turned on to some animated movie you couldn't remember the name of. george was sitting close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body from where he gently was resting against yours. "y/n/n," he whispered causing you to look up at him, "i love you." you smiled, having heard him say this many times.. he was your best friend after all. "I love you too!" you responded and before you could process what happened, his lips were on yours. and unfortunately for you, thats about where that ended. george realized what he was doing and absolutely panicked, begged you to forgive him and to not talk about it again so thats what you did. but on nights like this one, where he was looking fine as ever... it was hard not to long for him.

"helllooooooo earth to y/n!!!" lando almost shouted pulling you out of your thoughts.

"yes, yes! hi!" you rolled your eyes taking the drink out of his hand.

the rest of the night passed in a blur of celebrations, laughs and champagne. things were looking up and you couldn't be more excited for what the future held for you. you had done it. your dream had come true.

✿

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alpinef1team: 1 down. 2 to go. mexico city, here we come!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: omg if you made it this far... thank you for reading!!! likes and reblogs are massively appreciated. i'm thinking of making this a series with y/n racing in the last few races of the season. if you liked this, let me know so i can judge if this will get a part 2!! much love 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[aridante]

Do you think that if you were falling in space... that you would slow down after a while, or go faster and faster?

TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME (1992) dir. David Lynch

[torakowalski]

So the Olympics have started and @pennyplainknits and I have been talking about Swimmer Steve. His first Olympics is 1988, where he gets two silvers and a bronze. Two golds and a silver come in 1992 and he's all set to wipe the board at his home games in Atlanta 1996.

Except he has a training accident right before World's, some rookie crashes into him as he's making a turn at the wall, and he's stetchered off with a broken shoulder and a concussion.

What no one knows is that Atlanta was supposed to be his last Olympics. He and Eddie had life plans that didn't involve Steve needing to be firmly in the closet to keep his sponsorships. But he can't leave it there and Eddie isn't going to LET him leave it there. So he drags himself back to form, qualifies for Sydney 2000. And then...

"Wait," Robin says, grabbing Eddie's arm. "There's no way, he -"

Eddie is sitting so far forward in his seat that he's in danger of falling onto the people sitting in the row below. He reaches back blindly, ends up clutching Robin's knee with his fingernails.

"He can. He totally can."

He wasn't supposed to. He told everyone he just wanted to come to Sydney to compete.

But Steve was sixth at the start of the penultimate lap, fifth by the middle, fourth as he takes his final tumble turn. He pushes off long and strong, resurfaces in third and then it's on.

Half a length to go, he's level with Alexander Popov in second, and then he just, he surges. Eddie didn't know he could still do that, hasn't seen it in a decade.

The Dutch dude, Van Den Hoogenband is new and fast and twelve years younger than Steve, but Steve is strong and beautiful and stubborn as fuck. They're in sync for that final stroke, but even this far away Eddie is sure - he's _sure_ - that it's Steve's fingertips that touch the wall first.

On Eddie's left, Robin screams. On Eddie's right, Dustin yells, "Jesus Christ!" like all the air has been punched out of him.

Eddie yells louder than any of them. He's on his feet without knowing he's going to move, friends and family of Team USA jumping up and down around him, Robin and Dustin yelling in his ears, but Eddie's eyes are firmly locked on Steve, still down in the pool.

He's pulled his cap off, hair everywhere, and he and Van Den Hoogenband are side by side, waiting together with their eyes locked on the screen.

"He did it," Robin says, "he _did_ do it, right?"

"He did it," Eddie says. He did. They all saw it. Why the fuck is it taking so long for the confirmation to come up?

The screens flash, a ripple goes around the Acquatic Centre, and then finally, there it is: Van Den Hoogenband (NED) - 48.30; Harrington (USA) - 48.29.

(ETA: now with more here)

[papenathys]

People need Jennifer's Body (2009) and Love Lies Bleeding (2024) to be lesbian films even if they are two of the queerest, messiest and most openly bisexual films of our times, simply because there is a certain subset of queer folks who see bisexuality as inherently less queer and more falling into the paradigm of heterosexual titillation for the male gaze. It is pretty much the same theory that governs the criticism of media like The Secret History (1992), Saltburn (2023) or Hannibal NBC (2013-2015) for queerbaiting or for "being cowards" about the depiction of same sex love stories between two men who are clearly bisexual or attracted to multiple genders in canon.

The onus of the blame for heteronormativity in contemporary publishing and media often falls upon bisexual women. I'm thinking of that God awful YouTube video by that Lavender Menace person who started speaking of how sapphic literature these days is so normative (I personally agree) before veering way™ off course to spew vitriol about how this was because every popular sapphic book nowadays is bisexual and not performing the acceptable model of lesbianism or sapphic desire.

When films like Bound get talked about in terms of being a lesbian classic, nobody mentions the fact that Corky, the butch from the film demonstrates biphobic (and by extension lesbiphobic) feelings towards Violet, the femme, and considers her to be "lying" for the male gaze and performing queerness. The film ends positively, with Corky overcoming her biases and acknowledging that Violet is just as queer as she is. It's irrelevant if Violet is bisexual or a closeted lesbian (I lean towards the latter with reference to her character), what's relevant is the policing of certain kinds of identities as being "less" queer and the refusal to accept or show empathy towards bisexual women, as we are considered beings incapable of authentic self presentation or autonomous desire. Instead, we are all just a gaslit hivemind of people operating under comp het.

Bisexual women cannot have peace when it comes to representation; people took that one sentence about Poison Ivy wildly out of context, retconned decades of her representation as a bisexual icon in popular culture in love with another bisexual woman and then gaslit bisexual folks for being "annoying" about it on social media. When Love Lies Bleeding released, on Twitter, bisexual women were told to stfu because this is a film about "REAL butch4butch dykes" (and then you see the film made by a bisexual director and the muscle mommy you love to gatekeep is a) not a butch and b) an open and proud bisexual).

Villanelle, who was openly bisexual in the Killing Eve books, was retconned by fandom into a man hating lesbian and that apparently made her more authentically queer than Eve, who remained bisexual in both TV and source material. Of course, it is easier to see the more "visibly queer" Villanelle as a lesbian, while Eve, whose relationships centre men more, and who has to have her eyes opened by the sexy assassin hunting her down, can be bisexual.

I find this a really weird pattern. The whole subgenre of "bisexual woman having a reckoning and leaving her husband for a lesbian" is corny at best and poorly equates bisexuality with heteronormativity at worst, especially because the same formula is almost never applied to show a bi woman leaving her husband for another bi woman, or a lesbian leaving behind a comp het marriage or having a mid-life awakening in popular sapphic tradpub literature; the closest to this I can find is the novel Cash Delgado is Living the Dream (2024) by Taylor Kay Mejia.

It's silly, and vapid and frankly very condescending to assume that every bisexual women in popular media is actually a lesbian facing comphet. You need to unshackle your points from separatist biphobic rhetoric on social media, even if it is dressed in shallow feminist terminology. It's literally okay to let a film or book be bisexual, and I can promise you it doesn't make the narrative less queer or feminist or subversive.

I know some nasty people will be rbing this post and talking about how bisexuals are the privileged white people of the lgbtq community etc etc, and honestly I don't know how to articulate about this issue without coming off bitter, so here is an essay by Carmen Maria Machado, whose writing on bisexuality, queerness in horror/dark fiction and on sapphic literature & culture in general I highly recommend:

NON BISEXUALS DON'T DERAIL 💗💜💙

[reality-detective]

On this day in 1992, Randy Weaver and his family were attacked by Federal law enforcement at their home on Ruby Ridge in Boundary County, Idaho. What began on that day would quickly become known as one of the most egregious examples of Federal police tyranny in the nation's history. 👇

Randall Claude Weaver, who preferred to be called Pete as he hated his given name, was born in Villisca, Iowa to poor farming parents. One of four children, his family was extremely religious, though they often struggled to find a denomination that fit their beliefs. In 1968, Weaver dropped out of high school and enlisted in the US Military. 👇

While home on leave, he met his future wife, Victoria "Vicki" Jordison. In 1971, Weaver left the Army at the rank of Sergeant and a month later, he and Vicki were married. Randy quickly enrolled in Community College with the goal of becoming an FBI agent, but the high cost of tuition prevented him from completing school. He found work at the local John Deere factory while his wife became a homemaker as they began having children. 👇

Over time, they began developing a deeper and deeper distrust of the government, and Vicki began having "visions" that the Apocalypse was coming. The family decided their only option was to move off the grid. They spent time among the Amish, learning how to live without electricity. Then they emptied their life savings of $5000 to buy the small mountain property in northern Idaho. 👇

In 1984, their troubles began. Randy had a falling out with neighbor Terry Kinnison, over a $3,000 land deal. Kinnison lost the ensuing lawsuit and was ordered to pay Weaver an additional $2,100 in court costs and damages. Kinnison took his vengeance in letters written to the FBI, Secret Service, and county sheriff, claiming that Weaver had threatened to kill Pope John Paul II, President Ronald Reagan, and Idaho governor John Evans. 👇

Randy and Vicki Weaver were interviewed by the FBI, Secret Service, and the County Sheriff. Police were told that Weaver was a member of the white supremacist Aryan Nation and that he had a large gun collection in his cabin. Weaver denied the allegations, and no charges were filed. 👇

The Weavers filed an affidavit in 1985, claiming their enemies were plotting to provoke the FBI into killing them. The couple wrote a letter to President Reagan, claiming a threatening letter may have been sent to him, over a forged signature. No such letter ever materialized but, seven years later, prosecutors would cite the 1985 note as evidence of a Weaver family conspiracy against the government. 👇

One of the Weaver's neighbors, Frank Kumnick, was a member of the Aryan Nation, and invited Randy to attend a World Aryan Congress in 1986. Unknown to either man was that Kumnick was already a target of the ATF. 👇

While at this "Congress", Weaver met a man posing as a gun dealer who was actually an undercover ATF agent. Randy invited this man to his home to discuss forming a resistance group against what they called the "Zionist Occupation Government". 👇

Later that same year, the ATF would charge Weaver with selling that informant two sawed-off shotguns. 👇

The ATF offered to drop all charges, as long as Randy was willing to become a confidential informant. Randy refused. The indictments came down shortly after, claiming that Randy was a "bank robber" with an extensive criminal history. These allegations were of course fabricated. However, Randy was still arrested and then released, pending trial. 👇

Trial was set for February 20, 1991 and subsequently moved to February 21, due to a federal holiday. Weaver’s parole officer sent him a letter, erroneously stating that the new date was March 20. A bench warrant was issued when Weaver failed to show in court, for the February date. Randy was, despite being completely unaware of it, officially labeled a fugitive from justice. 👇

The U.S. Marshals Service agreed to put off execution of the warrant until after the March 20 date, but the U.S. Attorney’s Office called a grand jury, a week earlier. It’s been said that a grand jury could indict a ham sandwich and the adage proved true, particularly when the prosecution failed to reveal parole officer Richins’ letter, with the March 20 date.

The episode fed into the worst preconceptions, of both sides. Marshalls developed a “Threat Profile” on the Weaver family and an operational plan: “Operation Northern Exposure”. Weaver, more distrustful than ever, was convinced that if he lost at trial, the government would seize his land and take his four children leaving Vicki, homeless. 👇

Federal surveillance of Ruby Ridge began. Marshalls attempted to negotiate over the following months, but Weaver refused to come out. Several people used as go-betweens, proved to be even more radical than the Weavers themselves. In a rare show of reason under the circumstances, Deputy Marshal Dave Hunt asked Weaver neighbor Bill Grider “Why shouldn’t I just go up there … and talk to him?” Grider replied, “Let me put it to you this way. If I was sitting on my property and somebody with a gun comes to do me harm, then I’ll probably shoot him.” 👇

On April 18, 1992, a helicopter carrying media figure Geraldo Rivera for the Now It Can Be Told television program was allegedly fired on, from the Weaver residence. Surveillance cameras then being installed by US Marshalls showed no such shots fired and Pilot Richard Weiss, denied the story.  Even so, a lie gets around the world, before the truth can get its pants on. (Hat tip, Winston Churchill, for that bit of wisdom). The ‘shots fired narrative’ now became a media feeding frenzy. The federal government drew up ‘rules of engagement’👇

On August 21st, 1992, six Deputy US Marshalls entered the property to provide ground level reconnaissance and choose a spot to ambush and arrest Weaver. Deputy Marshall Art Roderick threw rocks at the cabin to see how the dogs would react. The cabin was at this time out of meat and, thinking the dog’s reaction may have been provoked by a game animal, Randy, a friend named Kevin Harris and Weaver’s 14-year-old son Samuel came out with rifles, to investigate. Vicki, Rachel, Sarah and baby Elisheba, remained in the cabin. 👇

When Striker discovered the team's locations, on of the Marshalls shot and killed the dog. This caused a brief firefight. By the time the shooting stopped, Deputy US Marshall William Degan had been shot and killed by Harris. Tragically, 14 year old Sammy was also dead, shot in the back by the Marshalls while trying to help his dog. 👇

The situation quickly spiraled. The National Guard was called in, as well as SWAT teams and helicopters. The Weavers moved Sammy's body into a small shed near the main house, then retreated into the house. 👇

The next day, August 22nd, Weaver and his 16 year old daughter Sarah, along with Harris, left the main house to enter the shed Sammy's body lay. FBI sniper Lon Horiuchi fired from a position some 200 yards distant. The bullet tore into Weaver’s back and out his armpit. The three raced back to the cabin. Horiuchi’s second round entered the door as Harris dove for the opening, injuring him in the chest before striking Vicki in the face as she held baby Elisheba, in her arms. Vicki did not survive. 👇

Two days later, FBI Deputy Assistant Director Danny Coulson wrote the following memorandum, unaware that Vicki Weaver lay dead:

“Something to Consider

1. Charge against Weaver is Bull Shit.

2. No one saw Weaver do any shooting.

3. Vicki has no charges against her.

4. Weaver’s defense. He ran down the hill to see what dog was barking at. Some guys in camys shot his dog. Started shooting at him. Killed his son. Harris did the shooting [of Degan]. He [Weaver] is in pretty strong legal position.” 👇

The siege of Ruby Ridge would drag on for ten days. Kevin Harris was brought out on a stretcher on August 30, along with Vicki’s body. Randy Weaver emerged the following day. Subsequent trials acquitted Harris of all wrongdoing and Weaver of all but his failure to appear in court, for which he received four months and a $10,000 fine. 👇

In August 1995, the US government avoided trial on a civil lawsuit filed by the Weavers by awarding the three surviving daughters $1,000,000 each, and Randy Weaver $100,000 over the deaths of Sammy and Vicki Weaver. Randy would pass away on May 11, 2022, after a long illness.

The atrocity at Ruby Ridge would not be the end of the story. Six months later, many of the same agents would be involved at the siege of the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas.

The story of the Weaver family and Ruby Ridge reminds us all that just wanting to be left alone is often not an option. The Federal government, in particular the FBI, ATF, and US Marshalls, used deception, outright lies, and terroristic tactics, all in an attempt to entrap a man who refused to become an informant against his neighbors. 👇

History is not what we were told. Everything is a fμ¢%in' lie. 🤔

Posted August 21, 2024

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 . |Webs And All|.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

《When a Spider falls into a new world, she didn't expect it to be so.. "Batty" than the others she's been in.》

-

Hurriedly swinging on rooftops and walls, you gaze in awe of the night sky. Warmth filling your body as the night air floats on your suit. Taking in the night sky...

Before smog and gas cover it as you jump down on the roof top. Pouting at the loss of the clear sky as you frown.

"I forget how polluted this city is.." You grumble, going to the ledge as you place your arms on the railing. Gazing down at the city lights and billboards.

Blinking innocently at one of the paid advertisments, you squint at it curiously.

"Wayne Enter.. Prizes? Technology.." You giggle at the guy on the board. His charming smile and flirty wink was not something you've seen often for an ad for tech.

Well...

You start re-calling a few worlds that did, but with a another billionare..

"Hmm, well. That's enough day-dreaming!" You shake your body, wanting to get your jitters out before taking a deep breath... Shooting out one of your webs to a near by ledge as you run and jump off.

Feeling your body pulled downwards, you pull your web as you glide through the air. Twirling slightly as you smile underneat your mask. Laughing once more as you swing forward.

..Let's do things differently this time.

Your name is (Y/N) (L/N), you were bitten by a radioactive spider..

Yet you weren't the only one.

But now.. Your on your own, though you weren't the only one.

With a fleeting glance at you, the supposed.. Dark Knight: pays you no mind. Eagerly taking down villians left and right, as the two of you finish them off together.

You were supposed to be back at HQ.

Things didn't go as planned.

You made it work, with this "new" life of yours.

Stumbling over your shoes in a hurry, you place down the box of donuts on the big fancy board meeting table. Glad that the stairwell was open, sighing in relief, you miss the eyes that watched you leave the building. While you headed to your next job!

In this Au, Spider!(Y/N) is a temp-worker and delivery girl. Just an odd young gal doing jobs around Gotham, ordinary and sweet.

She has a multiverse-watch, handmade specifcally for her by Miguel. Being one of his first recruits to the Spider Society, yet with the new Multiverse-Canon she's stuck in, the watch forms within her body to make it more acceptable to deal within the world.

Due to this, she doesn't "glitch" is the best term

"Welcome! Lord Hades!" The man dressed in a toga greeted cheerfully. You squint in confusion. Glancing at your companion as you walked closer to his side.

"Ah.. And fair Persephone, it seems you've taken form as garden spider. How quaint!" He spoke jovially as he held out a golden goblet to the two of you.

"Be serious Max! That's Batman and-"

"But Batman is a mere mortal! And what mortal has reached the summit of Olympus and survied!" Placing a hand on Batman's shoulder, the man gestured to his cup.

"Come! Brother! Unveil yourself and your bride in the nectar of the gods!"

-Batman The Animated Series 1992 Ep: Fire From Olympus

Spider!(Y/N) doesn't know Batman's idenitiy, and funny enough. He doesn't know hers, in the beginning. I'd like to think maybe down the line there's a possibility! I just think it's silly-er.

I'd like to think the dynamic between the two is Batman served as a comedic foil to Spider!(Y/N). Sorta, "brooding guy-and happy guy". Also, I like to point out, they can both can be silly in their own ways!

Just them figuring it out with Batman is hilarious in itself.

Biting into the dish, you beam in joy! It tasted so sweet! And.. Tangy, with a bit of sour. Invested with the tasty dish, you fail to notice the striking blue eyes glancing at you from a distance. Naively standing alone in your waiter uniform as you nibble on the treat.

"Ah, Mister Wayne, good to see you." Jim Gordon, dressed outside of his usual detective get-up greets. Flattening down his suit before grabbing one of the fancy champange glasses from one of the servers.

"Oh, Commissioner!" He spoke in suprise, greeting him as the two started to chat. "-And there it was... Mister Freeze and that giant lizzard."

"Dinosur." Gordan corrected.

"Whatever, doesn't make any sense. What does Victor Freeze gain by destroying a bunch of bones?" The billionare huffed.

"That's the question alright, I wish I had the answer." The Commissioner sighed, brows lowering in thought.

-Batman The New Animated Adventures 1994 Ep: Cold Comfort

-

[This was a small personal project for me, I had this idea since Into the Spiderverse! I would honestly love some feedback for this! I also would love to hear your guys own ideas in the aak box!]

[rapunzelbro]

The Act of Stealing a Loved One |1| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

This is a beginning of a prompt I wrote. Please don't expect chapters quickly. Enjoy!

Story guide

Being the wife of a man who went missing was hard. Many told you it was time to move on, many told you he was dead, and hell maybe you should just move on. But if they knew what happened that night, what actually happened to the man you loved, they would know why you couldn't exactly give up hope. You told him to shut it down, to stop what he was doing, hell Stan even did, but none of that would matter.

When he got trapped in the portal, it was the day you shut yourself out from everyone, you moved back to the small town home you two had bought before moving to Gravity Falls, you couldn’t take living in the house he went missing in. Stan kept living in his brothers’ home, turning it into some ‘Mystery Shack’ tourist attraction after a few weeks, which you wanted no part of. And after that, it was just radio silence. You didn’t hear anything from Stanley, nothing about your husband, it was just silence.

10 years went by. You still had hope that he was going to walk in that door and embrace you, telling you about the crazy things he saw while he was away, promising to never leave your side. It was now August 1992. He was smart, he knew about this sort of thing, so he was going to be back in your small home in New Jersey any minute now. That was going to happen… Right?

Another 10 years went by. You were grasping at straws trying to keep the memories you had with him in your mind. It was February 2002. The ring on your finger was a reminder of the love you two had, your hope was beginning to slip away. You stared down at your phone. Some weird new portable phone you finally decided on getting after debating. You should call Stan…

You never ended up calling him.

10 years later you had a car packed, a for sale sign was up in your town home you once lived in. It was now June 2012. Your wedding ring was no longer on your finger, you put it back in its box years ago. He wasn’t coming back, it's been 29 years. You were headed back to Gravity Falls, Oregon. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you didn't know what to think. How would Stan react?

Shit. Stan. You had to call him.

After starting your car, you scroll through your contacts before landing on your brother-in-law, Stan Pines. The contact photo was an old photo of him from your wedding, he was being chased around by some smaller kids who were there tormenting him, thinking it was hilarious, you obviously had the photographer take a photo of it. Looking back on it gave you hope that he was willing to forgive your absence. You dialed his number before you started driving, praying he hasn’t changed it after all these years.

It was on its final ring before someone finally answered “.. kids don't do anything stupid! Ugh…Hello?” he sounded the same as you remember, almost identical to your Stanford. “Hello? If this is some telemarketer im not interested” he said again, you realized you did say anything “Hi! Uh Hi sorry. Stan.. Is that really you?” you heard him spit his water out before coughing, then clearing his throat “Y/n.. it’s you. Um, geez sorry not good at this, why are you calling me? It's been 29 years..” He sounded off put by you calling him. “I’m heading back to Gravity Falls Stan, I was hoping I could see you? Unless you don't want to then-” “Quit rambling.. You're sure you want to see me after all these years? I did uh, take over your old home” Stan muttered into the phone “That wasn’t my home Stan, and yes I'm sure. I'm driving so it'll be a couple days until I arrive. I have a place already so don't worry” You sigh slightly

“Grunkle Stan who are you talking to! Is it a girl?” you can hear a younger girl on the other side of the line, you must be on speaker. “Who’s that?” you ponder “It's no one” Stan quickly replies, hearing the girl gasp “Y/n Pines?! Grunkle Stan! You’re married?! DIPPER YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE THIS” She had to have seen the caller ID. Guess he just added you as a contact “Mabel you get back here! Shit, Y/n I gotta go, I’ll get it sorted out. I can’t wait to see you” Stan grumbles before hanging up. You slightly smile at the interaction.

You marrying Stanley? Hard pass.

Taglist: @cherryblom @leo4242564

[nvuy]

The Halloween stranger au has me in an actual chokehold PLS—

you didn’t ask but i have so much more for hsr.

tw for typical halloween slasher fics talk — murder, blood, gore, obsession, stalking, yandere themes, overall horror themes & subjects.

sunday & robin in a wrong turn (2021) / mandy (2018) / midsommar (2019) spin off: where, surprise surprise, your car breaks down and you get picked up by a sweet girl who introduces you to her small private town off the highway. she expresses that her town is due to have a religious celebration over the weekend, and it’s going to be a bit to get your car repaired in town.

you’re introduced to the family head who is oddly pleased to meet you, and says you’re just perfect for the celebration. somehow, along the way, as repressed and closed in robin is, she turns her affections for you—the most normal person she’s met—into this strange twisted romance. you’ve somehow seduced her, and sunday finds out.

as revenge, sunday brings you in for questioning. he’s disgusted that someone like you—who he now labels as some sort of antichrist—can trudge into this town, sully and ruin his sister’s innocence. somehow, however, you manage to seduce him, though not on purpose. you plead your case and promise to leave and never come back, but as you’re being held captive, sunday finds himself falling victim to whatever curse you’ve inlaid upon him.

doctor ratio in gothika (2003): where you work as a psychiatrist and struggle to help your patients. your coworker, doctor ratio, has continuously held down his advances and interests towards you, despite the chemistry. you then wake up confused as a patient in the hospital you used to work at, and doctor ratio does everything in his power to believe you and help you out.

and despite how much you plead and beg to be set free, he can’t do anything that would result in you hurting him, someone else, or even worse, yourself.

acheron and black swan in scream (1996): two girls crash into your house, chase you around with knives, killed all of your friends and anyone that tried to make any advances on you in the past. two repressed homosexuals running after ANOTHER repressed homosexual (you)? banger.

and yes, you do shove a grand piano down the stairs. and yes, black swan gets smacked right in the face with it. all the better when you’re dragged by your hair into the bedroom and she has a nice bruise on her face, and acheron is extremely pissed off.

jing yuan or argenti in the candyman (1992): the ghost in the mirror that only comes out once someone has uttered its name three times becomes infatuated with a detective trying to investigate the mysterious disappearances and murders over the infamous ghost story.

both argenti and jing yuan fit the personality of sinister, yet gentle and beautiful, where the candyman in the original 1992 slasher worked more to seduce his victims that outright murder them.

blade in a the boy (2016) / halloween (1978) spin off: where you find another resident living in your house after investigating a series of strange knocks. you end up communicating with the supposed ghost that haunts your home.

and it is only when you fall victim to an unfortunate home invasion that the apparent ‘ghost in the walls’ is a real man that’s been living in your attic for years, and has been watching your every move.

he’s also developed an unhealthy obsession with you—and, boy, has it been a while since you’ve seen certain articles of clothing.

[selinakylesupremacy]

Favourite Batcat quotes in comics:

Bruce to Selina:

There exists such a thing as longing, for two hearts beating across time, space, and dimension, then perhaps she helped provide a beacon. A reason to return. Someone to come back to. - Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Catwoman #1 (2010)

When we kiss the pain goes away - Batman #12 (2020)

Her smell. Chanel. Wet leather. And sweat. I want to get lost in that smell. - Detective Comics #800 (2005)

Nothing matters as long as we're together - Batman Chronicles #11 (2014)

In any world, I love her - Batman #132 (2023)

There has only been one woman who has really held my heart - Heart of Hush (2009)

All I can think about is Selina. Beautiful, fascinating Selina Kyle. - Batman: Black and White #6 (2016)

When I first met you on that boat, the diamond you stole, after I got it back. I bought it. I've had it for years. I knew, even at the beginning. I knew I'd need it. I... I needed it. Just like... I need you. - Batman #24 (2017)

I'd do anything for you. - Catwoman #51 (2023)

She's more important than the galaxies. - Batman #68 (2019)

She's the only one who...who understands what... she knows who I am. What I am. And she loves me anyway. - Batman #15 (2017)

I love you Cat. I always will. - Batman #85 (2019)

Something passed between us - a spark of electricity. The shock of recognition. It was as if I'd suddenly found a part of myself that I never knew was missing. - Batman Chronicles #11 (2014)

Without you, I'm lost - Batman/Catwoman #6 (2020)

When I do let myself dream, Selina...in that life. I'm with you. - Catwoman: Lonely City #3 (2022)

Even in the middle of death and madness she makes my heart skip - Batman #143 (2024)

My world is dust without you - Batman #78 (2019)

Selina to Bruce:

By now we both know we can't stop it. This. Might as well try to stop the planets orbiting the sun. It's more than love. It's gravity. - Catwoman #1 (2023)

You and me. The Bat and the Cat. In the dark making sparks - Batman #392 (1986)

When the world blows up around us we reach out for one another. - Catwoman #58 (2023)

The Bat and the Cat. We are forever. - Batman #85 (2019)

You are part of the night, just like me. We're not afraid of the dark - we come alive in it. - Catwoman #40 (1996)

I'd rather die with you than live without you. - JLA: The Nail (1998)

When I fall he catches me - Batman #37 (2017)

Just for today don't be Batman. Don't be the mask. It's okay to let it go, just for today. You can fall apart, I'll hold you together. - Injustice: Gods Among Us #17 (2013)

I hope somewhere deep down you know I will never let you fall - Detective Comics # 1077 (2023)

I liked the smell of him - leather and sweat - Batman #66 (2019)

I liked how he held me, like he could do anything, but he couldn't let go - Batman #66 (2019)

I love you too, Bruce. Just like a fairy tale, I could live with you in your castle forever. - Batman Returns Comic (1992)

His love is my great escape - Catwoman #58 (2023)

I love you, Bat. I love you so much - Batman #85 (2019)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

uggh dave with glasses in that 1992 awards ceremony photos I would be on my knees instantly. can you write a fic about him in that era living down the street from you and the intense raw desire from first look to hook up

A/n: I lost motivation at some point and you can tell ☺️

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, masturbation, riding, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

When you moved you never thought to take a look at who lives around you, it never crossed your mind because you didn't think it mattered. And, to you, it didn't.

It was a different story with Dave.

There had been talk for a while about who would move in down the street, ever since the old family moved out. People were nosy and annoying and wouldn't shut up about it, ever.

Dave didn't care about it either, at least he told himself that over and over again. When he saw the moving van coming down the street, however, he couldn't help but be curious.

He went on a walk down the street and saw a few other people stepping outside their houses to see their new neighbour.

Dave's plan was to just walk past the house, glance at the neighbour and move on with his life. Then you stepped out of your car and his breath hitched, from that point on he knew he needed you.

He did whatever he could do to spend time with you, to see you, to be close to you. He made you treats and put them in glass containers so you'd have to come see him to return them where he'd invite you into his house for lunch or dinner, to watch a movie, it didn't matter.

At night he'd lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as he thought about you, hand moving down to his hard cock and stroking it as he thought about you, what you'd look like in his lap being an obedient little slut, the noises you'd make, how his name would fall from your lips.

He'd get you a collar and leash and keep you in his house, his own personal fucktoy. He needed you, but he was a patient man.

He wanted to get to know you and make you fall for him before he made you his, he needed to know there'd be no chance of rejection, he'd give you no reason to reject him.

That was his plan, but then he heard you got a boyfriend. People around the neighbourhood had been talking about a man coming by your place and staying for a few hours before leaving, occasionally staying the night.

Dave was having none of that.

He tried to maintain some level of self control, you weren't his yet, he couldn't be mad. But he was. He was more than mad, he was furious, you were supposed to be his and you were with someone else?

It was late, around 1:00 am, Dave was restless. He got his shoes on and stormed over to your house down the street, ringing the doorbell, banging on the door, making you up rather rudely.

You stumbled to the door, not quite awake yet, and flung the door open. You didn't get a word out before Dave's lips were on yours, his strong arms wrapped around your waist and holding you against him.

You tried fighting against him at first, not having expected it, but it felt good. His tongue licked your bottom lip, silently asking for entry before exploring your mouth.

He pushed you back into your house, kicking his shoes off and shutting the door behind him, locking it.

You pulled away from him a moment, just barely. "What-what are you doing?" You asked breathlessly.

"Taking what I fucking want." He said, voice low and gravelly. You wanted to question him further but before you could he threw you over his shoulder, when you tried to speak his palm came down on your ass.

A new favourite thing of his was seeing you in your sleepwear, a t-shirt and panties, although he enjoyed the thought that you'd just thrown the shirt on when you heard him at your door.

You'd let him into your house a few times, on his little treat deliveries. He'd asked you to give him a tour of your house which you were happy to do, you just hadn't realized he'd remember where your room was and carry you there like this.

Dave threw you on the bed and crawled over you, lips crashing against yours once more. His hands roamed over you, lifting up your shirt and revealing your bare chest.

He groped and squeezed your sides and chest, mapping out your body.

Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer and you could feel his bulge through his jeans grinding against you.

He wasted no time in getting his clothes off, tossing them off somewhere and forgetting about them, focus not staying off of you for long. He pulled your shirt off and snapped the thin waistband of your panties to get them off.

"Hey!" You gasped as he ripped them. "Those were expensive!" You said, reaching for the cloth.

Dave shook his head at you, bringing your panties to his nose and inhaling deeply. "I'll get you more." He said, tossing the fabric to the floor.

The darkness in his eyes, his heavy breath, strong, calloused and experienced hands trailing over you, it had your body boiling, skin prickling with excitement.

He leaned over you, lined himself up with your needy hole and pushed in, stretching you out and making you gasp. He waited a moment to let you adjust before he started moving, hips rutting and rolling, tip hitting deep inside you, veins dragging against your gummy walls.

Dave was big, in more ways than one, and strong. He was six feet tall and towered over you, in any normal situation it wouldn't matter, sometimes you'd ask him to get things off higher shelves for you, but it was different now.

It was different when he stretched you out, when he held you to the bed and snapped his hips into you, when he nipped and bit your neck, marking you, owning you.

You'd not been with a man in a while, despite what Dave thought. Your toys worked but they were nothing to him, no one seemed to be. His deep voice, grunts and groans falling onto your ears. Plump lips on your swollen ones, lustful gaze looking into your own desperate eyes.

You let your body succumb to the pleasure he was granting you, heat racking your body with Dave following shortly behind. He was a gentlemen and pulled out, working his hand on his length and cumming on your stomach.

He didn't move from his spot hovering over you, he liked seeing you small and precious under him, needy and breathing heavy.

"I'm better than him." He said abruptly, voice low as he watched for your reaction.

Your brows furrowed, looking up at him curiously. "Better than who..?" You asked breathlessly.

"Him." He stated. You had no idea who he was talking about so he specified. "The guy who keeps coming over here, he fucks you then fucks off, I'm better than him."

Your expression relaxed and you let out a soft chuckle. "Davie... that's my brother." His brows raised as you said that and he let out a soft 'oh'.

"Well, then I'm definitely better than him." He said, rolling off you and pulling you to his side. "At least I should hope so." You swatted his chest playfully.

Now that Dave knew there wasn't competition he had a different idea of how to spend the night. He didn't need to be on top of you anymore, no more need for the dominant demeanor.

He pulled you on top of him, hands going to your thighs as you straddled him and he gave them a squeeze. "Do me a favour, would you?" You didn't need much more than that, aching for more of him already.

[kkukverse]

thieves of the heart

summary: In the heart of Gotham’s night, they let the walls fall, trading sharp banter for quiet intimacy. The city’s chaos faded, leaving only the heat of their unspoken bond.

pair: batman!namjoon x catwoman!reader

genre: batman au

warnings & ratings: explicit sex scene | smut 🔞(minors dni)

wordcount: 7k

author's note: who's your favorite catwoman? so hard to choose, i'm torn between michelle pfeiffer (batman returns 1992) purely because her attitude, her wardrobe, the whip ahhh! but anne hathaway (the dark knight) was golden too! idk! anyway. hope u guys enjoy.

He is a man of control. 

Born from a long lineage of money and power, Namjoon is the most influential man in the city. It is no secret that he lost his parents. Gotham city practically bows down to his family, the Kim. How powerful is his family? Well his family is in charge of the dam that was built to run the electricity all over the city, lines of banks and corporate companies are ruled under the Kims too. It was believed that the very first generation of Kim was the founder of Gotham city. A city built from a wasteland to the most lavish city in the world. 

But everything comes with a price. 

As the only heir of the infamous Kim, his family was prone to danger. When he was a wee little boy, barely a teenager, his parents were brutally murdered in front of his eyes. Leaving him as the sole heir of Kim. After the very incident, he hides himself. No one really saw his face. He came in and out of his building with so little people know. He is just comfortable in managing his family’s empire from behind the scenes. After all, his family only hired the best of the best to assist in maintaining the legacy.

One thing that allows him to use his power for good is to help the citizens of Gotham. Namjoon wanted to be a plight of light because he saw how injustice roamed in his city. Day after day, the authority loses pitifully at the hands of the criminals. With his money he created a hero. Someone with no real name, a character that shows up when behind a mask. He became a batman.

How did he become a batman? That's another story to tell. 

Though he is a man of control, there’s only one person that can shake him to his core. 

“Namjoon,” 

“Not now, Alfred.” He walks past the old man. 

Pulling off his mask and the cape, at the first tug, the black cape was stuck and it made Namjoon yell out frustratingly. He snatched the cape until it tore from his shoulders. 

Alfred sighs, already thinking of making a new one, again. Namjoon is usually a calm man, but he sometimes forgets how strong he is. 

“Master Kim, it is my duty to remind you to keep calm. The wound on your leg is still fresh.” At the call of his formal name Namjoon flinched. Realizing he hurt his butler’s feelings. No, Alfred is much more than a butler to him. Alfred is a loyal man. Alfred has been taking care of him ever since he was born. Everything that he said is always for Namjoon’s best interest. Namjoon felt guilty at the sudden tantrum. He should’ve acted better.

“How does she always slip away so easily? It's like every time we get a trace of her, she is already four steps ahead of me,” Namjoon roughly ruffles his hair. Just thinking how he is so close to capturing the cat.

“Sly cat.” He snarled. “I swear I will not go easy on you.” Suddenly he can feel the stabbing pain on his left leg. The one that you caused. Namjoon has to go for hours of agony because you fire a crossbow just a few inches from his batmotor. Causing him to fall and being crushed by the heavy mobile. 

“May I ask, for what reason must you catch the catwoman, Namjoon?” Alfred monotonously asked. Honestly the old man is less interested in knowing the reason by now because as far as his wise age can conclude, his master and the catwoman have another issue than just chasing tails.

Namjoon just left the cave, limping. Alfred was all alone with an unanswered question. Alfred knew his master was wounded, not only on his leg, but also his heart.

“Get down right now! I swear I'll pull your legs! Look at this mess!” A piercing voice breakthroughs your dreams and almost makes you fall down from your hammock bed. The hammock was your safe haven. It is a bright orange hammock, tied so close to the ceiling because you’re the only one who can climb up to sleep there. With your legs dangling out of it, your body weighing down the hammock and Jungkook is worried that the ties will snap unless he does something about it, again. 

“What happened to your arm?!” Your best friend, big thick glasses Jungkook, gasped. He stares at the long gash from your forearm up to your elbow. “Oh dear, is this a pigsty or a house?!” He pinched on a piece of cloth he picked up on the floor while scrunching his pretty face. Hoping that they're clean.

“Kook, it's too early for this,” you yawn from the top of your bed. “I got home really late last night. Please let me rest.” You grumble. Eyes shut tight as you move your body in the tight hammock. Turning away from the nagging sounds of Jungkook.

But Jungkook is faster and he is itchy in his head the moment he sees the condition of your house. “Early, my ass. It’s evening, it's almost dusk. At what time you’re actually home?”

He climbed up the chair to smack the bottom of the hammock, hitting your butt as well. You yelped and flew out of it carelessly but managed to land on four on the floor. You fast reflexes woke you up. Wide awake.

“Fuck off!” You yelled at him.

“Poor Kitty, that trick works all the time.” Jungkook chuckles. “Now do something with your…” he sighs as his eyes caught a bunch of sparkles in the hammock. You're sleeping with jewelry, as usual “...house. Get up!” 

You love Jungkook, dearly. Best friend since highschool to be exact. He was the boy who was bullied and you’re the girl who saved the day. Just a cliche friendship trope. But really, the day you saved him was when you were too busy ‘pickpocketing’ Alex’s Superman watch as he was slamming Jungkook on the locker door. You accidentally twisted his arm and resulted in a serious pain for him and he released Jungkook. Ever since then Jungkook has followed you like a little duck.

Over the years of growing up together, both of you have been through so many hurdles and adventures. To this point, right now. He knows who you are, that's why he is special. You trusted him.

“How many times must I tell you? Trade them, cash them out for money, and we can eat grand food! Instead of weighing down your house with heavy golds and diamonds, why can't we just stuff our pitiful tummies with food?!” He nags as his busy hands are classing the clutter on the floor. You have a hoarding issue. 

“I love sparkling things, and you know that.” You pouted, with unruly hair, you're trying on a pearl necklace. Smirking at the sight in the mirror. Pulling up your hair, the necklace elongated your neck and they're just stunning! Mrs Kim knows how to live well, you sigh. His son will kill you if he finds out but nevermind.

“Why do I keep helping you to sort out your trash?!” Jungkook is inspecting a piece of painting. A big canvas of swirling colours. Jungkook doesn’t know much about art and he knows, so do you. It is a beautiful piece of art, and an expensive one.

“Really?! A Monet?! How do you even carry this!” He shouted, you winced at him but your hand was still clutching the pearls. A true picture of an aristocratic lady in a dramatic moment.

“Stop shouting!” 

“That’s it. I'm done. I'm done. No more stealing! Thieving! Next time you want something, think of a place to store them because this house is a second away from collapsing. And what that batman boyfriend of yours would think when he came over??” He babbles.

“Your mouth is moving too fast and I caught nothing.” You get up to palm your fist on his mouth. Jungkook is being too loud. You know what they say, ‘Speak of the devil and he will show up’ 

“Shut up Jungkook, he cannot catch me,” you whispered with wide eyes. Jungkook is smirking cheekily and you know it’s nothing good. 

Jungkook slaps your wrist and you let him. “Say that to this,” he fished out his phone from the back of his jeans. Swiping to find something before he yells out an Aha!

“Read!” He shoved the phone up to your face, with squinting eyes, you read the words.

“Tell her enough games, I'm coming over tonight.”

It was a message from Namjoon himself.

“You backstabbing shit! You motherfucker!” You jumped on his back, slapping his shoulders because not only Namjoon texted him but he exposed your little yet humble but also messy nest to him! You are a very territorial person. It is very unbearable to receive an unexpected visitor in your territory. You don’t like it. Simple. Not because you’re ashamed.

He lets out a boisterous laugh. “Watch out for the pearls!”

“No! How! Did! He! Know! My place?!” You emphasized on each word with a slap on his back.

“Well kitty, in case you forgot I walk in and out of his mansion everyday. I am his informant! The only person who knows his secret and yours. What do you expect?” Jungkook tried to pull you away from your body cage but he gave up. He walks to the kitchen with you still hanging on his back.

“Annoying. He is so annoying!” You grunt. “I was planning to steal a masquerade mask in the museum before his annoying ass shows up.” You whine in an unnecessary dramatic tone. 

Jungkook hums along as he pours down orange juice in a glass. “I know, I told him that too.”

“You little shit!” You karate chop Jungkook on his side neck, making him splutter out the juice. 

“Ugh!” Jungkook hunched down as the juice dripped from his chin to his beloved shirt. 

“You clean that up!” You jumped from his back and strutted down to the couch. Feeling satisfied seeing your friend in a mess. But the relieved feeling was a short one. The smug smile on your face slowly turns into a frown. Namjoon is coming and the thought of him makes you panic a little. 

“What is it that he wants this time,” you grumble. Furrowing your brows and crossing your arms on your chest. Very unamused of this situation. 

“Maybe an apology?” Suggested Jungkook. He has a good hearing and a very observant fella. 

“For what!” You barks. Jungkook raises his hands in peace. He knows better than to disturb the hissy cat.

“I don't know? Maybe because you bailed out on him when the two of you planned to ambush Bane?” Jungkook said with an unsure tone. Steadily scooches away from you. He doesn't want you to slap him again. You can be unpredictable and your moves are very agile. Jungkook shivers at the possibility of being scratched by you. He experienced it once before and nope, he is not trying his luck.

“I didn't leave him.” You mumble. Eyes casting down your toes. Wiggling them as a distraction method. “I was distracted.”

“Tell him your reason, on your own” Jungkook covers his ears as he prepares for another shout from you. He is a bit ashamed to admit that he flinched a little when you straightened your body.  

There’s nothing wrong in what Jungkook just said. 

“Namjoon is a nice dude, sometimes you’re the one who loves to tease him too much.” Jungkook adds. 

Now you're looking more like a scolded puppy instead of the feisty cat he usually knows. Jungkook likes it when he brings out Namjoon’s name to make you think rationally. Because that certain man always brings out this side soft, yet fierce of yours. He shakes his head with a smile on his face.

You're not replying. Instead you stand up to push Jungkook out of the house.

“Wait-” the door slammed on his face. 

“Ouch,” he mutters. “Call me if you need me. And clean your house! He's coming.” Jungkook reminds you again. He stepped out of the apartment complex by the back door, disappeared into the untangle maze of buildings with a bag that contained his green and black outfit. 

The robin is out to watch the city. Namjoon is counting on Jungkook to watch the day as he will be very ‘busy’.

“Open the door.” Namjoon no longer knocks as he said the words for the fifth time and yet the owner of the house is unbudged from the inside. He’s been standing at your door for half an hour now. He is a man of virtue and patience but he swears, you’re the only that pushes his button. He hates that he likes it.

You were sitting on the couch, with knees pressed to your chest. Unbothered. You want Namjoon to know that he has no effect on you at all. Despite not welcoming him to your house, the house is decently neat. The moment you pushed Jungkook out, you scrambled to clean the mess. In reality you just shoved all the jewelry in every cupboard you can find.

“Please,” his soft voice is melting you. How dare you Namjoon! You yelled to yourself.

“No.” Your voice, albeit soft, Namjoon can hear it just fine.

“Don't make me break the door, Kitten.” His dominating aura can be felt even if there's a thick door in between the two of you. You shudder at the thought of his face when he calls your pet name with that tone.

Almost mewling in surrender, you bite back your lips. Refusing to submit. You're the catwoman. The greatest, most flexible burglar, you cannot simply bend down to a man's will. 

“Fine,” Namjoon took one step back, his trench coat ruffled with his movements and your sharp ears caught that. Is he leaving already? You catwalking to the door. Being aware of making any sound. With every careful step you took, there’s not even a sound. Namjoon and Jungkook think you’re the most stealth person they know but they refuse to boost your ego. 

“I’ve warned you,” You heard the echo of his voice. So, you took another step. You were sure by the echo, Namjoon left the door. With confidence, your hands are on the door knob. Bracing yourself if he even tried to break the door. You will scratch his face if he destroys your door.

A silent. 

One beat, two beats. There's zero sounds beyond the door and you let out a sigh of relief. Though your face is frowning. He really did leave just like that?

“Really, Kitten? This is an old trick.” 

You screamed at the voice that was whispering close to your ear. 

“WHAT THE FU-” hand is on your chest as it heaves up and down. Panting from the shock. Your eyes trace behind him. The windows. 

“How the fuck do you even fit through the window, Namjoon?” With wide eyes you look back to him and the wide opened windows. The curtains are flowing when the wind blows. “Didn't you learn any basic human courtesy? Like, how you should behave when you're in someone's house? I pity Alfred. His poor soul has been teaching your sorry ass since you're a kid and this is how you act?!” You scoffed.

“Hush, kitten.” He sighs. Taking off his beige trench coat and throwing it out on the floor. Exposing his broad shoulder and chest with the tight turtleneck he's wearing. His bulging biceps are screaming, a stitch away to rip apart his top. Really? How did he even fit the window?! 

“Hush? You're in my house. You hush!” Hands on your hips. Ready to turn your back to open the door, expecting to kick him out. 

In a matter of seconds he slams his palm firmly on the wooden surface, not allowing you to open it.

“Don't you have anywhere else to go? Someone to save?” You gritted your teeth as you face him.

“Doesn't matter.” He crouched his insanely gorgeous tall figure to you as your whole body is pressed on the door. With his stunning face leaning closer and closer to yours. His perfect hair and his big hands are caging you. If you don't have a will in you, your knees will buckle down first. Weak kitty. 

“What matters right at this moment is, you,” his lips jutted out towards you, “pretty, cunning, and sly cat. You have an apology to make, kitten.” His nose is nuzzling on your neck with every description of you coming out from his mouth. 

You can feel a pathetic whimper at the end of your throat and you’re fighting it with everything that’s left in you to keep it at bay. Letting out a sound would make him win so you're biting your tongue. The pupils are shaking and expanding as your sense is heightened when he slowly circled his arm on your waist. Pushing himself a lot closer than before. Almost chest to chest.

“Hum? Cat got your tongue?” He chuckles at your stiffness. 

Like a flicker switched on, his words make you brazen up to fist his perfect hair, pulling him up from your neck to face you. Scratching your pointy nails on his scalp while your other hand is cupping his chin. The hissing sound, the satisfied grin and the way his eyes rolled back makes your thighs twitch. “Tsk, this batsy, batsy boy,” you lick on his cheek. 

“Nuh uh kitten, this is not your game anymore.” Namjoon snapped open his eyes and it's like two dark dark gazes swallowing your soul. He pulls you up and with an instinct you tighten your hold with your legs on his waist and arms on his neck with him slamming you back on the door.

“You left me, baby, how could you?” Instead of an accusing tone, the way Namjoon said them is so sultry. With his deep raspy voice. Getting braver now, his lips are on your neck. He bites and sucks ferociously. His big palm rubbing your side up and down, causing goosebumps at his electrifying touch, every damn time. 

“Nam- slow down, ahh!” Your arms and legs feel like jelly and they're fast to fall down from his body. But Namjoon will never let you fall. Bouncing you back, he grips hardly on your hips. He did not stop sucking and licking your neck. Definitely will leave some more marks, since the last ones are not faded yet. 

He is making sure you stay in position. By position, it’s your lower belly snuggling his crotch area, already feeling the hardening of the other big body part of his. His lips are attacking yours now. Swallowing the sinful sounds you make. Oh, he won.

“So pretty, you always sound so pretty for me Kitten,” he breathes in between kisses. 

You're catching your breath after he kept sucking your breath out of your lungs. Your thighs are trembling at the feeling of that hard thing that is poking your lower stomach. Someone’s clearly excited.

“Joon,” you mewled. 

“I almost beat Bane to death, baby. All because I was furious you left me in the sewer. You are a mean woman.” He spanked and squeezed your ass and the act jolted you up. 

“Thank god Jungkook came and took over. Bane would've been dead instead of going to the Gotham prison. All because of you.” Another spank and this time he kneaded your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say your ass is his stress relief ball. 

You giggle at the thought and the sound brings another glimmer to Namjoon's eyes. You sure are his death. An anti-heroine who rejoices in other people's agony.

“Aww you're a sweet little saint aren't you. Couldn't kill a soul,” you fake pouted at him. Though your entire face is clearly heated up from his ministrations.

Chuckling, Namjoon bites your earlobe. “Yes, baby. Though I shall never kill, I can make your pussy stings.” He whispered. The hair on your body all rises up at his words.

With your body being supported by the door, he sneaks one hand inside your thin, tight shirt. Namjoon almost drools like a dog in heat when he sees you wearing such a sinfully thin shirt and a boy short. Your attire accentuates your perfect figure. Your round ass, the tits. God, your perky tits.

“I’ve been dying to touch these pretty tits. I can see them jiggle when you get so worked up just now. Driving me nuts.” he mumbles. 

“Oh no! You’ve been staring at a lady, what a bad role model!” You fake gasp. You know he’s coming so there’s no point in wearing something that restricts him from seeing you clearly.

He sucks and bites even harder with a growl and your neck is blossoming with red like cherries. You winced at the slight pain but soon it washed away. Rubbing your thighs together for friction, hoping for him to not notice that you are reaching your patience limit. 

He did notice how your pretty legs tremble and the way you’ve been rubbing your thighs, yearning for friction for your pussy. He silently cheered for himself at that sight. This sly kitty is about to become putty in his hand, again, 

Namjoon feels that this is not enough, so he carries you to your table. His impatient hand started to push away all of the stuff on it, while his other hand is holding you up securely. 

Not allowing him to conquer you, you lick his neck. His legs stiffen when you sink your teeth on his skin. You know really well of his soft spot. 

“Ah, baby. I haven’t put you down yet,” Namjoon sighs. His tone is darker now. He’s trying hard to control it but his dick is begging for a sweet, tight and slick pressure. As if you can read his mind, you’re slowly palming his clothed dick. A pure torture to Namjoon.

“Put me down, now, or I will keep teasing you like this.” you command. Giving his ear a lick.

But Namjoon refused to lose. He grabs your waist with his big arms, sliding you on the table until your legs are dangling at the edge of it. His action excites you but where’s the fun in giving up first?

“Mr batman, do you wanna fuck me that bad?” You pout. Pushing his buttons is the best. Namjoon has this gentleman facade that he has to take care of. During the day, he is the most respected man in the city, at night, he is the hero. Usually the hero will give you an eye roll and ignore you. 

This time, there’s no eye roll from him, not even a sound. Only his labored breaths, his eyes are hazy with lust. “Yeah, I do,” he breathes.

The unexpected answer from him caught you. 

Pulling down your shorts, Namjoon is on his knee. Like the knight in shining armor, his eyes fixed on the prize, your pussy. It’s almost shameful to be in this position, with his breath fanning your hole and it would have been great if he played with it but he is just staring.

“Such a glorious cunt,” he whispered under his breath. His voice brings chills to both your body and your pussy. 

Your eyes never leave him. How can you, when all you can see is his luscious hair in between your legs. You want to tease again. He looks so focused and so cute.

“If you only gonna stare, might as well go home,” you cheekily said. One hand palming your cunt. Covering him off his best view. That kinda pushed him.

You know Namjoon is a buff guy, you just never realize how buff he actually is until he looms over your body. He propped up both of your legs over his shoulders. He inches closer until you swear you can feel his bulge. You like it when he’s like this.

“That’s not nice,” he tutted. He took your hand, the one that covered your privates and he brought it to his cheek. Leaving a soft kiss on your palm. “Now, will you be a dear, and use these fingers to touch yourself,” he commanded.

“No, why would I?” You tilted your head to your side while biting your lips.

“Or, you'd rather me to do it, but you’re just too shy to ask, hum?” Namjoon chuckled. He thinks he already got you soft. He gave another kiss on your palm before he put it down. Now his hand is slowly caressing your bare pussy. Luckily for him, you’re already wet. 

“Answer me,” he said as he ran his two fingers on your folds. A fluttering feeling but it already makes your body twitch. “Someone’s excited,” Namjoon said with his mouth close to your legs. Even if you wanted to show your dominance, your body seems to betray you. He notices the goosebumps on your delicate skin, he can help but to leave trails of kisses until he is a little too close to your pussy.

“Just touch me already!” You bark.

“As you wish,” he smirks.

He puts his middle finger inside your warm pussy. Namjoon is too ashamed to admit how your wet velvet walls feel like a home to him and that is just his finger. He moves his finger in and out very languidly. He stares at your moves in relief. As if this is what you need. And he wanted more. So, he picks up a pace and starts pumping in two fingers inside you. The room is filled with the squelching sound and the muffling moan from you. He thinks it’s such a shame when you suppress your voice. He wants to hear you scream for him.

You on the other hand are becoming a mess. His elongated fingers hit your spot so perfectly. It is embarrassing to succumb like this, especially on his hand. He really knows how to touch you. Although you wanna act all tough, your body says otherwise. From the way your pussy keeps clenching on his digits, shamelessly gushing out your wetness, to your writhing body, lost pleasure. This game is not over yet, you thought. You still have a chance to dominate him.

“Ah Namjoon, you’ve been practising?” You breathe. Actually he is the one who is taking your breath away with the thrust of his finger. It didn’t help when Namjoon made a come-hither movement in your pussy. You wish to cover your face. It only satisfied him to the moon to see you grimace in lust. The knitted brows, the gaping mouth, and your eyes. Your lustful eyes never lie.

“Why? Is this the first time a guy fingered you so well?” Namjoon retorted back. 

“Cocky.” You bite back. 

“Uh oh, someone’s mad.” Namjoon teases. The pushes from his finger did not stop with his knuckles deep inside of you and he topped it off by rubbing his big thumb on your clit. Your body trashes at the overwhelming feeling. He managed to shut you up with your witty words. He loves this feeling, when he can make you scream just by using his hand.

“Yes! Nggh,” you groan. The band snapped and unbeknownst to you, Namjoon was awestruck. 

The gush released from your pussy drenched his fingers and it dripped on the palm of his hand. Looking at you, hair sprawling on the table, thighs quivering and your laboured breath. Your face is glowing. Namjoon is dying to fuck you right here and now. 

Just before he can do anything, you beat him to it. 

Sitting up straight, your hands are busy unbuckling his belt. You know it's your chance when Namjoon straightens his body right after you cum. From the look from his eyes, deep and dark. Namjoon is not going to stop there. He wants it too but you are gonna give it to him on your own terms. 

“Not so fast, batman.” You whispered to his ear. The bodies are so close together, almost chest to chest. It drove both of you insane but you bask in torturing him. Your left hand is caressing his cheek. Feeling soft underneath your touch. He must’ve shaved before he came here, your heightened sense of smell caught a whiff of his cologne and you’re cheering from the inside. You noticed Namjoon makes himself handsome before meeting you. Always. 

Right hand is slowly touching his muscular body. From the firm pectoral muscles - which makes you salivate- to his sturdy abdomen. Your fast hand sneaks inside his tight turtleneck shirt. Feeling every ridges and the bumpy muscles. Your eyes are locked on his face. To search for any emotions or reactions from your touch. He usually is very stoic and very dominant. It's not fair sometimes, when he melts you into a puddle. So, you want to do that to him. Melts. You lightly teased and pinched his nipple. 

To your surprise, he groaned. Body tightened at the sudden pressure.

His face is blushed and you can see how he struggles to control his face. His forehead is scrunched and his eyes are shut. Feeling the reaction was too small for you. You keep on moving downwards. Guiding your hand to his happy trail before settling on his bulging pants. 

The one that’s been poking you from the beginning. Paying extra attention to it, you slightly rub your palm around it. You know his size but it always excites you.

You’re not the only one who is excited, it seems. Namjoon is putting both of his hands at your side, gripping the table as if it anchors him down before he drowns even further. Your touch is so electrifying. Your delicate hand trailing from his chest, his nipples, his whole body and a little scratch from your fingers are to die for. He is a weak man for you.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You chuckled. Your hand is busy playing with his hard cock, up and down. By unbuckling his belt, it provides you more space to play. You don’t know what got into him but you wanted to keep teasing him more. This is fun.

“Dick already this hard, must have been painful, huh?” You cheekily pouted. Already imagining his answer. 

“Touch it.”  He commanded and you grinned like a Cheshire cat. Unwilling to give him what he wants, just yet, you choose to play coy.

“Where’s the fun? If I give you what you want?” You asked. Shrugging your shoulders and acting like you don’t care. You let go of the hand that grips his dick and Namjoon almost whines at the loss of your touch. He was almost bursting when he saw you unravel with his fingers and with your playful touch on his hardened dick. To be deprived of you is like a punch to his gut.

It has been awhile since the two of you were in this position. Truth is, Namjoon missed you. And you know how to make a guy, even the strongest ones, weak on their knees. The thing with you, you are quite literally a cat. Nobody can hold you down. The moment he thinks you’ll stay longer at his manor, you’re gone. Strutting through the street, getting yourself in danger. 

Namjoon doesn’t have to worry about you, but he can’t ignore the nagging voice in his head. What if something happened to you? What if you get in trouble? What if he couldn’t be there on time? Love is a wild thing. 

If it’s up to his possessive instinct, he’d put you in a luxurious cage. Safe and sound. But who is he kidding? This is The Catwoman. The same woman that always shows up earlier than him at any crime scene. The same woman who knows the narrow streets, the nook and cranny of Gotham because you love to wander around. The one he first met years ago on a yacht that holds a handful of elite people related to Kim's business. 

You were very fast and agile, buglaring some of the passengers' jewelry and expensive belongings. Namjoon is just lucky enough to catch you red-handed. When he unmasked you, he was sure that was when he fell for you. Or maybe when he saw first-hand you were in hand-to-hand combat with the bad guy. Also, you’re a master at flirting.

What started as him catching you and cooperating with you, turns to sharing a bed with you. It has been awhile since you left his manor, sulking because he stopped you from stealing a huge diamond cut on an old crown from the museum. The shimmering stone has bewitched you for quite some time and Namjoon was there first. Protecting it. Mission unaccomplished. So you left his big ol house.

“You know what, I’m getting bored. If you’re gonna daydream, go home.” You fake a yawn. 

“Really? Let me check,” Namjoon eyebrows twitched up. Unamused. He gently pushed you back on the table. “Enough game, just wanna be inside you,” he adds. He took off your tee in one swift motion, and instantly placed his hand on your perky tits. Kneading the soft tissue. 

“Ahh that’s more like it,” you sigh.

Namjoon didn’t reply with words. He turns to one of your nipples and starts sucking on it like a starved man. He hums in joy when he gets to taste your skin like this. Waves of sensations are crashing on you as he paid attention to your other nipples. He licks and laps and sucks on the skin around your nipples. Every time his nose brushed with your sensitive nipples, your body jolted. 

“This is for your tease just now,” he mumbles as lightly bites on the hardened bud. Earning a short scream, from you.

“That really hurt!” You smacked on his bare body. You have no idea when he took his shirt off. 

“Don’t pout, baby. You like it when it hurts,” Namjoon cooed while aligning his stiff dick to your entrance. For someone who said it will hurt, he sure does take his sweet, sweet time to fuck you.

You, on the other hand, are very impatient. “C’mon darling,” you said with a sultry voice, inciting him to just ram his dick into you. Your dangling legs are now hugging him, your heels planted to his firm buttocks, pushing him straight into you. 

“Easy, love” Namjoon chuckled. You’re like a cat in heat and Namjoon secretly loves it. In one swift movement, he slotted deep inside your warm pussy. It’s been a really long time for him. Apparently to you too.

“Ahhh, see how perfectly your dick fits in my pussy, it’s like we’re meant to be,” you joke. Namjoon didn’t laugh, instead he picked up the pace. The longer he stays inside of your pulsating pussy, he will blow his load right now. Scratch that. Seeing how good he makes you feel right now, makes him wanna cum.

Your lean legs around his waist are somehow limiting his movement and that’s bothered him, so he hooks your legs on his arms. With one quick thrust all at once, you can see how focused Namjoon is. His eyes can’t get enough from looking at how his dick pistoning in and out of your pussy, fully coated with your juice. The sound of the squelching and the skins slapping mixed with your moans is what he lived for. Hero? The knight? Those names are out the window. He is no saint.

“Not so bored now, huh?” He asked.

There’s nothing you can say back when moan after moan escapes your lips.

Namjoon steals a glance or two at you and god, he loves it when he can make you become a mess. You threw your head back with the satisfied emotions written all over your face. Your arms are above your head as you grip the edge of the table. Your nails are gonna be fucked but who cares?Namjoon loves this view, your exposed body and your bouncy tits and your fucked face. It is as if this is something that you crave for too long, and he’s the one that delivers it to you. The table is shaking violently but neither of you care. His hand firmly grips on your thigh and you counter it back by clenching hard on his dick. That elicited a suppressed groan from him.

You like him so much. His bigger build towering over you like this, him taking full control when fucking you — not all the time, because that’s not fun, and you love controlling him too — he fucks so good when he’s desperate like this. You feel the band around your lower belly is about to snap and Namjoon can tell by how your back started to arch and the throaty moans that come from you. He sneaks his thumb to the bud on your pussy mound and starts to rub circles on it. The waves of simulations crash you down. 

“God, you’re killing me,” he groaned. Your pussy wall is tight like a vice, and it keeps sucking him in. It is almost slippery. “Such a greedy cunt,” he adds. Some of his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and you can see from the muscle on his neck and his clenched jaw that he is so determined to fill you to the brim. Looking at your orgasmic face is certainly not helping, so he hides his face on your neck.

“In me, cum in me,” you command. Your flexible legs are suddenly on his waist again, securing him closer as if he is not balls deep enough inside of you. “I’m on pills,” you whispered to his ears. He picked up the pace as he gripped on to the flesh of your ass. You felt him fumbling the rhythm with his grip on your ass, leaving marks as he thrusted inside for the last time. Ribbons of cum painting your pulsating walls. 

He let out a long pant and gently released his grasp on you. He raised his head to look at you and you can a cocky smirk across his face at your fucked out expression. His dick is still warm and snuggled inside you.

“Fine, you won this time,” you rolled your eyes at his smug face. You winced a little when he pulled out his coated dick and he grabbed a roll of tissues from the kitchen before he wiped you clean. Once you’re clean, he can’t stop himself from kissing you while putting on your shirt. Of course you kissed him back as your hand is busy rubbing the back of his head. A silent pat that you’re kinda missing him too. 

The sudden sound of police siren and gunshot stopped the two of you. Naturally, Namjoon carries you to the opened window. Glancing down he can see two to three police cars, blaring their sirens as blue and red coloured the road. You’re looking up and the bat sign is already flashed up in the sky. 

“Oh baby, it’s work time. Shall we?” Namjoon rubs your back, eyes bore on you as the moonlight makes your face glow so beautifully. He fell once again by the way your eyes stare at his signs in the sky and the smirks on your face. Namjoon can never be sure about the look of this face. It’s like you’re so proud of him but it also could be your mischievous look as if someone just said “playtime”. Whichever it is, Namjoon is smitten. 

“See you there, batsy,” you whispered before you backflipped from his hold. All this time you could’ve easily gotten out of his hold. Namjoon shakes his head at the sudden escape of yours. Sly kitten!

“Maybe we can have a second round there!” you shouted.

“Yeah, yeah” Namjoon replied, only to himself. He knows there’s nothing stopping you from what you want. His heart with a claw-shaped marks is beating alive.

Namjoon touched the pocket of his coat and was relieved that you didn’t notice the box inside of it. You have a very good instinct especially for jewelry. Before he’s done, he has to make sure the box that contains the very diamond from the crown — the one that you wanted to steal so much — is secure. 

He bought the diamond at the highest bid only to place it on top of the band of a ring. Your betrothal ring. 

Namjoon rushed to his bat mobile, all suited up. There's a particular woman waiting for him, you. You stolen jewels, secrets, and even his heart, but as the first light of dawn touched Gotham, all he could do was smile—because you always gave him a reason to chase.

[discoscoob]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU

˙ ✩°˖🎄⋆｡˚ Ted Logan x Reader

KEANUVERSE SECRET SANTA: My contribution to @faerl’s Keanuverse secret santa project for my giftee @scarlettspectra! 🎁

SAN DIMAS, CHRISTMAS EVE 1992

Below a slanting ‘Merry Christmas’ banner, Ted is sprawled across the well worn, pre-loved couch, his long, gangly frame fitting awkwardly. Mismatched socked feet dangle over the edge of the armrest, while his arms drape snuggly around your waist as you nestle peacefully across his body with your head tucked under his chin. A santa hat sits askew atop his unruly dark locks that have fallen over his sleeping face.

You sniffle as the framed photo begins to gently blur from the gathering tears clouding your vision. Bill had captured the candid moment of you and Ted having a post Christmas dinner nap. How you wish you could travel back to that precious moment, nuzzled comfortably in Ted’s warm embrace. Of course, afterward, Bill had taken a permanent marker to both your faces, leaving the two of you with drawn-on moustaches until the new year — it earned Ted some strange glances when he served customers at Pretzels ‘n’ Cheese.

Carefully returning the photo to its pride of place on your nightstand, you pick up the mixtape Ted sent you. The hand drawn candy canes, forming the shape of a love-heart on the cover, brings a watery smile to your lips — reminding you how much thought he puts into even the simplest of gestures. The smooth melody of Please Come Home for Christmas by Charles Brown drifts from the cassette player and seeps straight into your aching heart, stoking the heavy swell of longing that presses against your chest.

Yesterday, Ted called you from a payphone at Fairbanks Airport with the devastating news that a blizzard was grounding all the flights, forcing him to holdover at the military base in Alaska for the holidays.

The moment you pressed the phone to your ear and he uttered your name in a quiet quiver, you knew something was wrong. Your heart sank like a boulder. He sounded so defeated. The two of you had exchanged stacks of letters filled with plans and promises of making the most of your time together over the holiday season, hoping to compensate for the months spent apart. Now, you can’t even talk to him over the phone because the lines are down.

You haven’t physically seen him since he left for military school in the spring — the longest the two of you have ever been apart since you met in high school. Both you and Bill had begged him not to go, insisting that you were happy to support him as he couch-surfed between your place and Bill’s dad’s after his own father flat-out refused to take him back in. That refusal came after he and Bill got evicted from their apartment for falling behind on the rent.

At that time, it felt like one knock back after another. With the band going nowhere, no matter how hard they tried, Ted couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a burden and a failure. His father’s relentless words would echo in the back of his mind, always there to remind him he would never amount to anything.

It had all come to a head one night after yet another failed audition to get on the bill at some music club. That’s when Ted ran into Colonel Oats. The man barely had to say a word — just a gruff “it’s not too late” — and something inside Ted broke. He was so beaten down, so full of self-doubt, that he thought it might be his only option left. A week later, he was packing for Alaska.

You had wept your heart out — not only for the fact that Ted would be miles away, but for how beat down he must’ve felt to even consider leaving in the first place. You had let him down. You hadn’t reminded him enough of how incredible he was. You hadn’t defeated his father’s voice in his head. You felt like a terrible girlfriend.

You cross the room, switch off the cassette player, and eject the mixtape just as the opening notes of Darlene Love’s Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) start playing. Ironically, most of the songs Ted had chosen were about longing for loved ones to be home for the holidays, and with him stormbound in Alaska, they’ve become unbearable to listen to.

Your doorbell chimes and you quickly check your reflection in the mirror above your dresser. Puffy red eyes stare back at you with glistening tears reflecting the glow of twinkling Christmas lights, you soak them up on the sleeve of your sweater in vain as more soon gather.

As soon as you open the door, a hard chest ploughs into you, almost knocking you off balance until a pair of strong arms swoop you off your feet — all before you even get a good look at your visitor. You would have kicked and screamed if it weren’t for the sweet scent of blue raspberry swaddling your senses, Ted’s favourite candy, inviting you to sink into his sturdy embrace.

With all the enthusiasm of a boisterous Great Dane, blissfully ignorant of its own colossal size and strength,

Ted clutches you tightly against him, his arms noticeably bulkier than the gangly limbs you recall.

He burrows his face into the curve of your neck as you cradle the back of his head, eager to delve your fingers into his thick tousled mane. Instead, they stroke over smooth, freshly chopped strands. You falter briefly, before pulling back to get your first proper look at him since he arrived on your doorstep.

“Your hair…” you blink, momentarily stunned as you drink in the sight of him. Where an unruly mop of tousled locks once sprouted and tumbled over his eyes, there’s now a military buzz cut, clipped uniformly to reveal the sharp angles of his face and stubble-dusted jaw.

You didn’t intend for that to be the first thing you said to him after all this time apart, it tumbled out before you could stop it. You wince, realising how many other things you could have — no, should have — said instead.

“You hate it.” Ted’s broad grin falters as he sheepishly rubs the nape of his neck, dipping his gaze to the floor, clearly self-conscious.

Your lips part, and you quickly shake your head, your heart hammering at the thought he might believe you could hate anything about him.

“You… your ears will get cold.” you caress his jaw, noticing the reddened tips of his ears.

Your concern eases his pink lips into a coy smile as he leans his rose-tinted cheek into your warm palm.

“Mhm… then you’d best let me in before I turn into a popsicle or something.”

Wrapping your fingers around the edge of his jacket, you tug him inside as he kicks the door shut against the cold with the heel of his combat boot. He eases his bass guitar case carefully against the wall and shrugs his heavy duffle bag off his shoulder, letting it thud softly to the floor.

“I don’t understand…” you step back deeper into the living room, still tugging Ted along with you. “How did you get here? I thought the flights were grounded.”

“Santa’s sleigh!” he jokes with a giggle, ducking his head to pepper kisses across your cheeks and forehead. His enormous hands hold you steady while his eyes sparkle with delight.

You’ve always known Ted to be affectionate — it’s undeniable that physical touch is his love language. But even by his standards, there’s a noticeable shift. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder — and in Ted’s case, bolder. His once restrained and hesitant displays of affection, shaped by his benign nature and lack of experience, have given way to a liberated eagerness to show you just how much he’s missed you.

“There’s this, like, total rich dude at school,” he pauses just long enough to rest his forehead against yours. “His dad’s some mayor or something, like, really important. He managed to pull a few strings and got a private jet to fly him out.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his dilated pupils flicker to your neck. “And… he offered me a ride.”

“Wait…” there’s a noticeable flutter in your voice when he starts kissing the side of your neck, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “A private jet?”

“Hm-hm…” his warm breath fans across your skin and you feel his lips twitch into a smile. “Felt like a total rockstar.”

Ted raises his head with a softening expression. “I missed you.” he murmurs, his doe eyes briefly meeting yours with timid sincerity, before dropping back to the carpeted floor.

“I missed you too, Ted. So much.” gently, you curl your forefinger under his chin, giving him a soft nudge to lift his head. As he looks up, you lean in and press a tender welcome home kiss to his lips.

˙ ✩°˖🎄⋆｡˚

Cocooned by Ted’s impressive wingspan, his chin hooks over your shoulder as his nimble fingers flit across the fretboard with a newfound ease. No longer is he serenading you with out-of-tune melodies or clumsy, off-beat riffs. Now, you’re motivated to softly sing along to the unmistakable, toe-tapping groove of one of your favourite songs.

The fluidity of his precise and controlled movements are so captivating, you’re locked in an almost hypnotic trance as your gaze lingers on his long and skilful fingers. The dedication he must’ve poured into practicing during his downtime at military school is remarkable, however, your unrestrained mind is soon bombarded with vivid images of all the possible ways you could reap the benefits of his enhanced dexterity.

Regrettably, the visions only intensify when he gently guides your far less experienced fingers along the neck of his bass while his breath tickles along the shell of your ear with soft-spoken instructions. You gulp, noticing that it’s not just the calloused tips of his fingers that are new. A fresh scar cuts across the back of his hand, presumably left behind by the whip of a snapped string — a subtle badge of honour to his devotion and passion for music.

Unfortunately, a dark cloud lingers at the back of your mind, casting a shadow over the moment, reminding you of how fleeting it is. When the new year arrives, Ted will return to Alaska and you won’t see him again until blossoms bloom on the trees and rainbows are painted across the sky after sunshowers. While you want to be content and savour the moment, there’s a throbbing ache in your chest that is impossible to ignore, it snatches your focus and prevents you from fully appreciating the time you have together.

“Babe, you totally keep zoning out.” Ted teases, cutting through your spiralling thoughts to pull your focus back to the present.

“Huh?” you freeze, trying to buy yourself some time to come up with an excuse by feigning confusion. You’re already working on eradicating whatever outward expression you were wearing as you nose-dived through the whirlwind of trepidation.

Your Ted, ever patient and sweet, sets his bass aside with care to give you his undivided attention, attentively settling his now-empty hands lightly on your knees.

“Something’s wrong. What is it?” he coaxes, his brows scrunching with concern.

You rearrange your face into a smile, trying to alleviate that heavy pressure in your chest.

“I’m just distracted by how skillful you’ve become with your fingers now.” you tease, your smile turning cheeky as you take his larger hand in your own, pressing your lips to his calloused tips.

“Oh…” Ted gulps, his cheeks tingeing pink as he shyly averts his gaze. Even after all these years together, Ted still becomes a flustered puppy at the slightest hint of suggestiveness.

In the background, Die Hard plays on the staticky TV. Neither of you have been paying much attention, but just as Hans Gruber plummets from the window of Nakatomi Plaza, Ted blurts out, "I'm not going back to Alaska in the new year."

Your head snaps toward him, your wide eyes meeting his as your mouth falls agape.

"What?"

"I'm not going back," he repeats, and the weight of his words settles over you like the warmest blanket, replacing the suffocating mass of anxiety that had been choking you moments before.

Your face eases into a genuine, uncontainable smile as your heart leaps weightlessly in your chest. You throw your arms around him, nearly knocking him across the couch in your excitement. “I’m so relieved you’re not leaving. I couldn’t bear saying goodbye again.”

“Me neither.” Ted mirrors your smile as he secures his arms around you properly, but there’s a slight shadow in his expression — something else lingering unsaid.

“There’s, uh… there’s more,” he says, tugging himself back but keeping his hands on your shoulders.

“More?”

“I’ve um… like put in an application to the LAPD.” the excitement bubbling in your chest is replaced by confusion.

"Wait. You want to be a cop?"

Ted nods slowly.

"Like... your dad?"

Ted looks startled, his brows shoot up and he waves his hands as if trying to manually wash away the thought from your mind.

“Woah, no way! That, like- he has nothing to do with it. I mean, I don’t care about what he thinks anymore. It’s… I dunno-” he looks down at his lap, his shoulders lifting slightly in a small shrug. “I had a lot of time to think in Alaska and… I guess I was actually pretty good at some of the stuff they taught us… for the first time in forever, I felt like I wasn’t flailing around trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life. And maybe… maybe I could use that to help people… like be a hero or something.”

You tilt your head as his words settle over you, still processing them. Despite his sincerity, apprehension lingers. You can’t shake the worry that he might be rushing into something else he feels he has to do — just like he did with military school. "But... the LAPD?"

"Yeah." His gaze softens, and his lips curve into that sweet, earnest smile that always makes your heart flutter. "I don't want to go all the way back to Alaska. I can't stand the thought of being away from you again until the spring. If I stay in LA, I'll be much closer… and maybe…” he pauses, his smile turning hopeful. “Maybe you could even come with me…”

Your breath hitches at his words and the endearing sight of his hopeful smile. You don’t even question the thought of uprooting your life to follow Ted, there’s no doubt in your mind, your heart belongs with his. Before you can respond, his hand drifts up to play with a strand of your hair, idly twirling it around his finger as he gazes at you, his voice softening.

“I know it’s a lot to think about, you don’t have to decide anything right now.”

“I’d follow you anywhere, Ted.” you assure him, needing no time to make up your mind.

Ted’s face lights up brighter than the Christmas lights.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He pulls you into his arms again, his fingers threading through your hair with care. You close your eyes, nestling into the crook of his neck as Ted tucks his head against your shoulder.

Credit to @scarlettspectra for the headcanon that Jack Traven is older Ted if he was sent to military school. I love that headcanon so much and I had to steal it writing this so technically this is a little bit of a pre-speed Jack fic too. Chopping off Ted’s floppy hair did hurt me though 😔

My little easter egg is that the rich kid who’s father is the mayor is Scott Favor who was forced to go to military school if he wanted to receive his inheritance

[30somethingautisticteacher]

I Had a Brother

Read Part 1

****

A brother?" Tommy asked softly.

Buck's voice trembled. "D-D-Daniel. My older brother."

"Okay, so where's Daniel now?" Tommy asked, his voice gentle but uncertain.

"I...he's—" Buck started to hyperventilate, each breath coming faster than the last.

"Evan...are you alone?" When there was no answer, just ragged sobbing through the phone, Tommy's voice turned urgent. "Evan, I'm coming to you."

Buck rocked back and forth on his couch, trying to calm his breathing, but his heart felt as if it was going to leap out of his chest. Tears were streaming down his cheeks—tears he didn't deserve to shed.

The door flew open, and Tommy stood panting in the doorway, an uncertain look on his face. "Are you okay? Can I—can I sit next to you?" Buck nodded, and before Tommy could fully settle on the couch, Buck grabbed his hand and pressed into his shoulder, seeking the familiar comfort of his warmth.

They sat like that for a while, neither saying a word. It was a strange kind of silence—not uncomfortable necessarily, but unfamiliar. The kind of silence that falls between two people who seemed to move through life in sync, now unsure of where they stood with one another.

"So, uh...Daniel?" Tommy finally asked, his thumb unconsciously rubbing circles on Buck's hand.

Buck took a deep breath. "So Daniel was my older brother and he...he died."

Tommy stiffened. "Oh my God, Evan, I am so sorry. When did it happen?"

"1992," Buck said quietly.

Tommy pulled back slightly to look at him, confusion etched across his face. "1992? I feel like I'm missing something."

The question in his voice made it clear he was trying to piece together a puzzle that didn't quite fit.

"Daniel...he had leukemia. He died when I was a baby," Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, Evan, that's awful. You must have missed him your whole life," Tommy said softly, squeezing Buck's hand.

"Yeah, only—" Buck let out a bitter laugh. "I didn't know about him until three years ago."

Tommy's brow furrowed in confusion as Buck continued, his voice taking on a hollow tone.

"Turns out that I'm a savior sibling. Genetically engineered to save my brother's life."

"Evan," Tommy said softly, the name carrying all his concern.

"Only I Buck-ed that up too. I was literally created to save him and he died." Buck's voice cracked on the last word, the bitter self-loathing clear in his attempt at dark humor.

Tommy squeezed his thigh, staying silent but present.

"And then no one ever told me. Three years ago, Tommy. I didn't even know he existed until three years ago. I spent my whole life feeling like something was wrong. Like something was missing." Buck's words tumbled out faster now. "Like I was this cosmic mistake who wasn't supposed to exist after I failed at the one thing I was made for—a thing I didn't even know about for almost thirty years."

"You are not a mistake, Evan," Tommy said firmly, gripping Buck's hand tighter.

"Today is the anniversary of his death, and I just...I don't know." Buck's voice trailed off, heavy with a grief he wasn't sure he had the right to feel.

"I shouldn't have called. I'm not your problem anymore," Buck said, starting to pull away from Tommy's grip.

"Hey, stop that. You are still important to me," Tommy said, tightening his grip when Buck tried to pull away. The firmness in his voice left no room for argument.

"I just feel like I have no closure. I've never even been to his grave." Buck's voice cracked on the last word.

Tommy stood up suddenly, decision written across his face, and put out his hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Buck asked, staring at the offered hand.

"To Pennsylvania,"

Tagging based on interest

@sunnywithachanceofbi @judymarch15 @nine-one-wanton @herrmannhalsteadproduction @typicalopposite @xtarmanderx @justahumblecabbagemerchant