#Forgive me I’m bad at tech

[lucy-stoolz]

[spacedilflvr]

watching star wars with someone who has never seen it in chronological order is honestly so good for the soul. watching them react in the same way you did.

[monicfever]

matt murdock as your boyfriend. 𝜗𝜚 hc’s

includes ᝰ .ᐟ gn!reader ,, fluff ,, sfw headcanons ,, religious mentions

MATT MURDOCK AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . adores you. he can’t believe you’re real — every time you say his name it’s a prayer answered. he listens to the sound of your heartbeat like it’s music, memorized the rhythm of it before he ever let himself memorize the curve of your smile.

matt doesn’t just love you — he carries you. protects you like it’s instinct. like you’re something sacred.

will step between you and anything that looks like danger, even if it’s just a rude stranger or a loud car. and god help anyone who actually tries to hurt you — matt won’t let them walk away. not as the lawyer. not as the devil.

he’s soft with you in a way he never is with anyone else, fingers tracing your wrist like he’s reading braille, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand when he thinks you’re asleep. smiles against your shoulder when he’s tired. holds you tighter when the city feels too loud.

but he gets scared too. scared of losing you. scared of hurting you. scared that the violence stitched into his soul will bleed into yours. so sometimes he pulls back — disappears into himself. tells you he’s fine even when his knuckles are split and there’s blood on his collar. won’t meet your eyes, won’t let you touch him. but if you wait it out, if you reach for him anyway, he always comes back. always folds into you like he never left.

remembers everything. the exact cadence of your laugh, how your breathing changes when you're about to cry, the shape of your hand when it’s searching for his. he notices when you swap perfumes, when you wear new earrings, when your voice sounds a little hoarse because you didn’t sleep well. doesn’t mention it like it’s weird — just softly asks if you need tea. or rest. or him.

his love shows up in rituals. carries your umbrella even if it’s not supposed to rain. calls you after a bad case just to hear your voice. kisses your temple twice when you leave the apartment.

he talks to god about you. not in the way he used to — not asking for forgiveness. not begging for strength. just... saying thank you. like he’s been given something he didn’t deserve. and maybe he hasn’t, but he’s going to protect it anyway.

he always reaches for you in crowded places. not because he needs to — his senses are sharp enough to navigate most chaos — but because he wants to be guided by you. threads his fingers through yours, hand curling into your sleeve, forearm, belt loop. anything to keep you close. anything to let you lead.

“where are we going?” he’ll ask, even though he already knows. grinning like he’s getting away with something. he just likes hearing your voice explain it. likes being pulled along like you’re his compass and the only thing that matters is keeping up with your footsteps.

sometimes he pretends he can’t find something just to get you to come closer. “where’s the salt?” “matt, literally right in front of you.” “i’m blind, sweetheart.” and you roll your eyes, walk over, and he just grins, smug, hands slipping around your waist. “thanks for the assistance.”

lives for slow strolls with your arm linked in his. especially at night. especially when the city has finally calmed down a bit. lets you guide him like you’re dancing through the streets, murmuring what’s around you — the neon signs, the smell of fresh pretzels, the sound of a jazz saxophone in the distance.

he fakes not being able to do tech stuff all the time. “can you post that for me?” “can you read this email out loud?” “can you set my alarm?” and every time, it’s just an excuse to hear your voice, or feel your hands brush against his as you show him how to do it. yeah, he could use a screen reader. but where’s the fun in that?

he rests his chin on your shoulder a lot when you’re doing something mundane. like brushing your teeth, making dinner, folding laundry. just appears behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and leans his whole weight into you.

sometimes he fumbles on purpose. “oops, I missed the cup,” he’ll say with a smirk, spilling just a little water. you sigh and walk over, wiping it up, and he uses the moment to pull you into a kiss.

he gets a little clingy after bad nights. not in a loud way. just won’t let go of your hand. won’t stray more than a step away. stands behind you while you do dishes or brush your hair, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

you guide his hands through everyday things, and he always looks like he’s learning the shape of the world for the first time. folding dough, measuring spices, finding the buttons on a remote — he’s so focused. and he always smiles when your hands touch his to correct something. every single time. like he’s never going to get used to being cared for like this.

sometimes you’ll lead him somewhere with no warning. “trust me,” you’ll say, tugging his hand. and he’ll smile, nod, follow without hesitation. because he does. always has. always will.

he tells you he loves you in the smallest ways. “be careful.” “call me when you get home.” “take my jacket.” “your heartbeat changed — what’s wrong?”

he wakes up the second you stir. even if he was dead asleep five seconds ago. instantly reaches for you, palm brushing your side, murmuring, “you okay?” voice still gravelly from sleep.

he gets weirdly smug when you trip or bump into something. “huh,” he’ll tease, “and here I thought I was the blind one.” and you’ll glare at him and he’ll just kiss your forehead.

he has incredible spatial awareness but pretends to bump into furniture just so you’ll tease him. “you good?” you’ll say, raising an eyebrow, and he’ll grin and go, “guess I need a guide.” cue him holding onto your waist like it’s the only thing keeping him standing.

he randomly kisses your hands. when you’re cooking, reading, doing work — he'll just reach over, take your hand, and press his lips to your knuckles. it’s not always romantic. sometimes it’s just a little thank you for being here.

he’ll ask you to describe things to him in your words. “what does the sky look like right now?” “what’s she wearing?” “what’s the room feel like?” and you’ll ramble through the details, unsure if it makes sense — but he always listens, like you’re telling him a story he never wants to end.

you read to him at night. curled up in bed, your voice soft in the quiet. he’s not even listening to the story half the time — just the way you say the words.

he teaches you self-defense. he takes it seriously, even if you don’t. but every time you land a hit, he praises you like you just saved the world.

late-night walks through hell’s kitchen. just talking. venting. dreaming. sometimes he stops mid-sentence to kiss you under a streetlamp. “sorry. just had to.”

he pulls away when he’s hurting. emotionally, physically, all of it. slips into that quiet place in his head where the guilt lives. tells you he’s fine with a tight jaw and bruises blooming across his ribs.

he’s terrified of burdening you. of being too much. too broken. he thinks if you saw everything — the anger, the damage, the things he’s done — you’d leave. so he tries to handle it all himself. isolates. bleeds in silence. but he aches for comfort, even when he won’t ask.

sometimes he has nightmares. fists clenched in the sheets, breath ragged, muttering things that don’t make sense. and you wake him up gently, touch his shoulder, and he flinches before realizing it’s you.

absolutely refuses to admit when he’s sick. “i’m fine.” you’re shivering. “it’s not that cold.” you literally just sneezed five times. “allergies.” matt, you don’t have allergies. “…okay but i still don’t need soup.”

the moment you take charge — pull the blankets up, hand him tissues, give him meds — he folds like wet laundry. instantly compliant. snuggles into the pillows with a dramatic sigh. “only because you’re cute when you boss me around.”

a huge baby when he’s actually sick. makes the most pitiful groaning sounds, flops onto the couch like he’s on death’s door. constantly wants to cuddle and cling to you.

you catch him trying to sneak out of bed once to go on patrol and you yell. he tries to argue. “the city needs—” “the city can wait, you have a fever and a death wish.” he grumbles. you kiss his forehead. he shuts up immediately.

tries to pretend he’s suffering in silence but keeps whispering things like “baby can you rub my back?” or “i think i need another blanket” or “can you come lay with me for five minutes? ten? okay forever?”

he’s so protective. not in a possessive way — in a “if anything in this world hurts you, it’ll answer to me” kind of way. steps in front of you instinctively. hears a tone in someone’s voice you don’t even notice and subtly shifts between you and them. but if you ask him to stand down, he always listens. because your safety isn’t just about fists — it’s about trust.

always insists on keeping your plans, even if he’s clearly moving slower than usual. “I’m fine,” he says, clearly wincing as he puts on a button-down. you catch him rotating his shoulder like he’s trying to pop it back into place.

he’s not loud about his jealousy. not possessive. just hyper-aware. the way someone’s voice changes when they talk to you, how close they’re standing. you can practically feel the shift in his body next to you — shoulders straightening, jaw tightening. but he says nothing. just listens.

he does subtle things. puts his hand on your lower back when someone’s talking to you for too long. brushes his fingers over yours when someone compliments you just a little too enthusiastically. stands slightly closer. doesn’t speak unless he has to.

if someone gets too bold, though? oh he’s done. still polite. still calm. but absolutely deadly. steps in, voice low and smooth: “Hi. I’m Matt.” smile perfectly measured, hand firm in the handshake — but he’s already evaluated the guy’s heartbeat, stance, and whether he could take him down in five seconds or less if needed. (he could. always could.)

he’ll dance with you in the kitchen. no music. just the sound of rain on the window or a pan sizzling on the stove. he’ll reach for your hand with that little crooked smile, spin you into his arms, and sway like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

you both talk during chores. actual conversations. about your day, about random memories, about the weird neighbor with the too-loud parrot. and he listens like it’s the most important intel he’s ever received. nods, hums, asks questions. you’ve never felt so heard while doing dishes.

he lets you cut his hair sometimes. sits on a stool in the bathroom, towel around his shoulders, completely relaxed. you tease him about how still he is — “you’re acting like you’re on trial.” he just grins. “you’re holding scissors near my head.”

he folds your laundry. not just folds it — does that careful press-and-stack thing. pairs your socks. hangs your shirts so they won’t wrinkle.

does dishes with his sleeves rolled up and a dish towel over his shoulder like it’s a whole ceremony. hums under his breath while you dry. sometimes flicks water at you just to hear you squeal and laugh.

you two have a habit of falling asleep in odd places — couch, floor, roof. anywhere. half a conversation turns into hours curled into each other. his favourite part is waking up to your heartbeat under his ear. says it’s better than any alarm clock.

helping him shave sometimes. it turns into something gentle. your fingers on his jaw, his hands resting on your hips, quiet laughter when he makes a face at the cold razor. it feels intimate.

gets grumpy when you're hurt. even small things — a paper cut, a stubbed toe — he gets all quiet and intense like he's going to take on the concept of pain itself. he’ll crouches in front of you while putting a bandaid on like it’s the most important task in the world.

he insists on carrying all the groceries. all of them. “i’m blind, not weak.” he’ll say, ten bags looped on each arm like a stubborn pack mule. won’t even let you take the bread.

he keeps extra gloves and scarves in his coat pockets — not for him, for you. “you always forget yours,” he says, even though sometimes you don’t. doesn’t matter. he’s already wrapping one around your neck, tugging your hands into his. “can’t have you getting cold.”

he saves the crunchy edges of brownies for you. the soft center of cinnamon rolls. whatever part you once mentioned liking the best, that’s what you’ll find saved for you — tucked in a napkin, handed over without a word, just a warm smile.

when he gets back from patrol he always checks if you’re asleep before doing anything else. listens for your breathing, your heartbeat. if you’re up, he’ll come curl up next to you. if you’re asleep, he’ll just hover in the doorway for a second. breathing it in.

sometimes, when he’s feeling brave, he whispers “i love you” when he thinks you’re not awake. presses a kiss to your forehead and says it like a secret. like it’s breaking out of him and he has nowhere else to put it but right there, into your skin.

always checks if your phone is charged before bed. quietly plugs it in if you forgot. sets your alarm. puts it face-down so the light won’t bother you. doesn’t say a word about it — just does it.

he calls you sweetheart when he’s sleepy. voice all low and warm and tangled in dreams. sometimes murmured against your neck, sometimes mumbled into your shoulder like he’s already half gone — “mm, goodnight, sweetheart,” and you feel it all the way down to your bones.

saves you the last bite. his sandwich, the cookie you split, the best bite of takeout. even if it’s his favourite part, he’ll nudge it toward you and go, “you take it. i’m full.” (he’s not.)

he loves being babied a little. not a lot, and too much of it will have him feeling annoyed and overcrowded, but when you help him fix his tie, button his cuffs, rub his shoulders after a long day, he leans into your touch like he was waiting for it all day.

he’s hopelessly in love with the domestic routine. brushing teeth side by side. carrying the laundry basket while you fold.

he’ll do your skincare with you at night. blindly pats moisturizer into your cheeks with far too much enthusiasm. “did i get it?” he asks, fingers smeared with product, giggling like an idiot when you say “too much.”

when you cry he holds you like he’s made of warmth. wraps you up in his arms, hand at the back of your neck, thumb stroking slow and steady. doesn’t try to fix it unless you ask. just says, over and over, “i’ve got you. i’ve got you.”

started 4.24.2025. finished 4.24.2025.

( masterlist. )

©️ monicfever 2025

[girlnext-do0r]

Jayce headcanons

I need him terribly. Sfw and Nsfw

Jayce who doesn't focus on anything but you after work. Asking if you're hungry, if you're thirsty. Never takes his attention off of you, as if you’ll disappear randomly if he even blinks. ‘Are you hungry?’ ‘Are you sure?’

Jayce who is an AMAZING cook. You cannot tell me he can't cook. If he can make hex-tech he can cook you a big pot of chicken Alfredo pasta. 

Jayce who follows you around like a big ol’ puppy. Big eyes, hands on some part of you. Just wanting the same amount of attention he gives you.

Jayce who has you do his hair and doesn't shut up about it. Even if you just brush it. "My partner did my hair, isn’t it great?” A big fat smile plastered onto his face.

Jayce who is the king of jokes. You’re sad? Jokes about silly things. You’re angry? Jokes about how your brows furrow in a certain way. You want him so deep in you that you’re begging? Jokes about how bad it would be if he just sucked at making you feel good. Anywhere and everywhere. Jokes.

Jayce who is filled with so much guilt when he finds out why you’re upset with him. Even more when you’re mad at him. He sinks to his knees in front of you, big puppy eyes, big hands slipping against your calves while he kisses up your legs asking for forgiveness.  ‘M’sorry… Please, my love, forgive me. I won’t do it again..’ 

Jayce who yearns for praise. Any waking moment you two are doing something together, he’ll ask if he’s doing good. ‘Am I doing this right? Is this good?’ Soft pleas for subtle praise. And loves it even more when you respond and give him everything he wants. ‘You’re doing that so good, baby. That’s perfect, love.’ And he’s a big puddle in front of you. Thanking you every time you tell him how good he’s doing. 

Jayce who is absolutely stupid when it comes to you. Wanting to give you everything. Wanting to make you laugh and smile. But also cry. Not in a bad way, no, of course not. He would never want to make his lover sad. He just wants you to feel good, so good. So good that you’re crying, begging him to keep going. And Most times if he sees you, makes eye contact, he’ll start to cry too. 

Jayce who draws you in his journals, his papers, his chalkboards all of it in the lab. Every hour of every day he’s drawing you. In old clothes, new clothes, no clothes. Every single drawing of you always makes him feel like you're there with him. Though, Viktor teases him, tells him if he doesn't stop drawing you everywhere Viktor might fall for you too. Which for some reason he’s proud of. 

Jayce who’s so proud of you, so happy you’re with him, that he shows you off to literally everyone. Whether it’s in drawings or pictures, writing or describing you verbally, he’s so proud. Praising everything you do, your rights, your wrongs. Outside, how beautiful/handsome you are. Inside, how kind and loving you are.. How good you feel..crying as he sinks in. Voice breaking. ‘M’so.. proud of you- fuc-” 

Jayce who cries when he sinks into you. Whether he’s using your mouth, or something else- though he hates saying he’s “using” anything, especially you. He wants you to feel good too.. So good.. And when he’s close he can barely think, hips bucking, tears streaming down. Hands on you or in your hair.  ‘My love- M’so close.. Please..” Begging you as if you’ll stop as soon as he reaches his high. But let's be honest, you’ve edged him to the point of dumbifacation, I’m sure he can handle it.

Jayce who loves biting. Marking. Bite marks. Sometimes when he’s trying to stop himself from moving he’ll bite your shoulder. Marking it until you let him move. 

Jayce who cries when he cums. Sobbing while telling you how good you feel. Apologizing for cumming too fast, or too slow. 

Jayce who can’t make eye contact with you or he’ll finish right there. Eye contact isn't a no for him, but when he’s needy and embarrassed, looking at you makes him feel so close.

Haven't used Tumblr since like..2016? If this is bad DON'T tell me, let me live delusional.

[rotthepoet]

In love with your writing, specially bsf!theo. I’m in such an angst mood. Everyone knows we’re in love with Theo and he’s in love with us besides the two of us. Longing with fwb to lovers? Maybe some more smut if you’re feeling spicy?

IN LOVE WITH YOU, POOKIE!!! If theres one thing I know how to do its YEARN and LONG so lets hope that translates into writing 🙏 it’s been a hot minute since I wrote an actual fic, and i took a few liberties with your rq, so please let me know how you feel about it!

Notes: i typically write for a gn!reader, but I really hope everyone can forgive me for writing in a FEM perspective today. It just makes writing smut a tad bit easier on me(an afab person)

Content warnings: As always, Hogwarts University AU, Characters are all 18+, Draco Malfoy calls Nott a fat ass(degrading eating habits, commenting on working out), Theo’s mom is dead, mutual pining but being too stupid to figure it out, crying during sex but not in a hot way(no safe word used/tech needed), angstyish to comfort, use of drugs(weed), SMUT, oral(fem receiving), kinda proofread? Please let me know if I miss anything major.

Things only got more intense as the… situation went on. Hooking up had become significantly more common, almost a daily occurrence. You found your mind drifting to Theodore more often than not, thinking about how disheveled his hair looked in the morning, or how the first words he mumbled when he saw you today were “Hello, beautiful”.

Your thoughts never strayed too far from Theodore, and to be honest, it felt like he never strayed too far from you.

In the most recent months, it felt like you two had become inseparable. That’s not to say it was a bad thing at all, oh no in fact, it made you quite happy to know he was around. He was your friend after all. The sex-thing, as you opted to call it, was just a benefit you both indulged in time to time.

Of course, neither of you dared to openly admit your scandalous behavior together. It wasn’t anyone’s business, even as Theodore had started seeing less women and spending less nights out partying. It wasn’t anyone’s business when Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulder while walking around Hogsmeade, or when he smiled at you when you weren’t looking. It wasn’t anyone’s business whenever Theo stopped sleeping around completely, and it certainly wasn’t their business when he beat the shit out of one of the Weasley twins for accidentally catching you in the crossfire of a loose prank.

It wasn’t anyone’s business besides the two of yours, and for the most part people had began to ignore it, except for a select group of close friends.

A day didn’t go by where you weren’t pestered by one of Theodore’s friends. They collectively figured that you were more likely to break under pressure than Theo was. It was ruthless.

Draco Malfoy stands at the front of your desk, glaring down at you. “You know you’re just another one of his phases. He does this. Falls helplessly in love with a girl, dedicates his entire time to her, only to remember he isn’t built for that life. It’s about time you save yourself the trouble. I’m only trying to help.”

Not everyone was as terrible as Draco, thankfully.

Mattheo Riddle would approach you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, putting on his most convincing Theodore impression. “Ciao, Bella,” even his most convincing impression wasn’t very good, “My room or yours?”

Sometimes you play along, running your hands over Mattheo’s in a way that makes his skin prick with goosebumps. “I was thinking we could do it on Matt’s bed again.”

That usually get’s you a hard shove away if Theodore hadn’t already spotted the situation.

Lorenzo Berkshire isn’t as insistent, just staring at the two of you, raising a brow whenever he finds you hand in hand. He draws a huge smirk on his face every time he sees you alone.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“You mean your boyfriend? I see the way you look at him, don’t play dumb Enzo.”

He doesn’t like that game as much. Usually scoffs and ignores you.

Then there was Blaise Zabini.

Blaise Zabini.

He knows more than he should. Far more than he should. He watches. He listens. He knows. He perceives.

The first time Blaise found you asleep in Theo’s arms, it was early in the morning. Their little clique never missed breakfast together unless something drastic had happened. So, whenever Theodore didn’t show up for breakfast, Blaise volunteered to check on him. Only Draco questioned it when Blaise grabbed a plate and two muffins(“Those are practically cakes, Nott’s fat ass doesn’t need one to begin with, let alone two! Doesn’t even show up to quidditch practice anymore.”). Draco was ignored.

“You’re going to lose her if you keep acting like this, you know that right?”

Theodore tries to ignore Blaise as best he can, he really does. He traces his fingers over your hair softly, watching you dream.

“Just tell her, Theo. What are you so scared of?”

“Drop it, Blaise.”

“No. You obviously love her, you’re obviously in love with her!”

“Lower your voice-“

“Why are you so scared? Is it your father, Theo? Is it your-”

“I mean it Zabini, drop it.”

The room goes eerily quiet as you shift slightly in Theodores arms. It lasts for only a moment before your breathing returns to the deep, rhythmic patterns.

“Get out.”

Blaise didn’t brother bringing it up after that. He knew what was going to happen, and he was going to let it play out. It wasn’t his business, after all.

Your friends weren’t much different. You stopped hanging out with them as much, not on purpose at all, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe one or two of your friends resented Nott for it, “He’s a playboy, everyone knows that. I don’t like how close he’s getting to you.” Or “You aren’t… sleeping with him right? Please tell me you aren’t.”

Both you and Theodore laughed endlessly about every comment. It was silly. I mean yeah, you two fuck, but you’re just friends. You’re just friends, and friends can totally cuddle each other to sleep, and friends can totally kiss without sex. Its not a big deal! Its not a big deal as Theo almost pukes every time he says, “You’re my friend, I’d tell you if anything changed.” And it’s not a big deal when your chest aches as you say “Same here. It’s not that weird when you think about it.”

It wasn’t a big deal the first time you cried during sex. It wasn’t a big deal when he pulled out immediately and held your face, asking what he can do for you to make it better. It wasn’t a big deal when you sobbed in his arms for hours, chest hurting because you loved him so much and you knew you could never say anything. It wasn’t a big deal when Theodore kissed your mouth shut when you tried to apologize. It was a big deal though. It was a really big deal.

It was a big deal when you wrote your name next to Nott like a child. It was a big deal when you kicked your feet in bed thinking about how he called you pretty. It was a big deal when he kissed your cheek so absentmindedly that it felt natural. It felt right.

It was a big deal, and it hurt so bad.

But you could manage. Look at how strong you are. Look at how composed you are. You knew that one day all of this would come to an end, and you were okay with that! It was something you knew you could one day stomach, so for now, you didn't let yourself worry about it.

What you worried about instead, was how fine the object of your affection looked tonight.

Theodore was dressed to the nines. Black slacks, a loose button-up shirt, and those eyes that undressed you no matter where you were. He was gorgeous, and he knew it. You looked wonderful too, showing just enough skin to keep Theo on his toes.

Slytherin winning the house cup was a moment to be celebrated, the common room decorated and loud music playing from every corner of the room. You and Theodore spent every moment together, laughing whenever someone dared approach either of you for a dance.

Smoke curled out of Theodore's lips as he snuffed out the filter of a joint you had shared. He grinned at you, and you smiled at him, and everything else faded away.

Time slowed down, and Theodore's smile fell.

"I want to be with you, this summer."

And you laughed and smiled, nudging his arm slightly. "Well, all you need to do is invite me to your summer home in Italy, and I promise I'll spend every day with you."

"No. I want to be with you."

And for a moment, it felt like everything was still. Theodore looked so scared, and you looked so scared, and your mind was fighting the high to fully understand and process his words.

"With me?"

"With you."

You bit the inside of your cheek, almost not realizing whenever Theodore groaned and stood up.

"Theo."

"Fuck. I knew this was a bad idea."

"Theodore."

"I'm sorry. I knew we shouldn't have."

"Theodore Nott, look at me right now."

And he did. He looked at you so sadly. It made your heart ache.

"I want to be with you, too."

It felt like a brick that sat on your heart had finally been lifted. You laughed at the smile that spread across his face. You laughed as he pressed sloppy kisses against your lips. You laughed as he picked you up, kissing you stupid as he carried you to your room.

The weed still made your mind and body buzz with a high, and fuck, every touch felt better than ever before.

Your back hit the mattress, and Theo climbed over you. He looked so handsome, and you felt so pretty the way he looked at you. His hands worked at your dress, pulling you into a deep kiss as he found the zipper in the back.

Your hands gracelessly unbuttoned his shirt, whining into the kiss as you struggled. Finally, with a small chuckle, Theo offered to help you. His hands worked smoothly, pulling his shirt off his shoulders.

"You're stunning."

"Take a look at yourself, cara mia."

Theodore pushed you back down, gripping your hips as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. You laugh, resting your hands over his, feeling just how wet you are between your thighs. You lean your head back, sighing softly as Theo drops to his knees.

Nothing else mattered when Theodore's tongue found your clothed pussy. His strong and veiny hands pushed your thighs further apart, and pathetic mewls spilled from your lips as he licked you.

Theodore continued to tease you, a grin plastered to his face at every moan and whine you let slip out. He licks over the lace of your panties, daring to suck on your clit through the soaked fabric. Pleas spill from your lips, and Theo can't bite back his groan as you tug on his curls.

Dead eyes look up at you from between your legs, and Theo pulled away just enough to remove the lace hiding your heat from him. He blows on your wet folds, pulling your thighs to his shoulders.

"I think I could stay like this forever, right here."

You roll your eyes and sit up, pulling Theo up just enough to admire his wet face. "I think I'd miss your face too much," you laugh, leaning in and kissing his lips, shivering as you taste yourself on him.

"I have a few other positions that I wouldn't mind staying in."

You push away his smirking face with a laugh, gasping for air suddenly as his mouth finds your clit. Gasps turn into soft whines as his tongue moves across your pearl, your hips jerking and shifting at each motion. You can feel his smirk as he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

"Theo," You whine out, but he silences you with a long finger prodding at your entrance. He shushes you, planting wet kisses along your thigh. "I know, bella, just take a deep breath. 'Gotta stretch you out all the way."

A needy moan slipped from your lips as a finger slipped inside of you. You could hear how wet you were, and Theo pulled back just enough to watch the digit disappear inside of you. He pressed a second finger in, carefully spreading them inside of you.

"So soft. So pliant."

His whispers made your legs shake as he stretched you out thoroughly. The knot in your stomach grew tighter, and it became almost unbearable as his lips found your clit again. He was slow, savoring the feeling of your legs shaking beside his head, and the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

Ecstasy flooded your mind before you had a moment to think about it. Theo groaned into your cunt, committing the taste to memory. He continued working his fingers in and out of your cunt until you were shaking in overstimulation, only then finally freeing himself from between your legs.

"You have one more in you, right? Can't get enough of you, cara mia. Will never have enough of you."

[dipperpepper77]

Lights. Camera. ACTION! NSFW

Dipper Delusions

(Forgive me. I'm having a standing ovulation and needed this out of my brain. LADS men with anything Tech or camera related!)

Tags: MDNI. AFAB READER. Depravity. Unprotected sex (wrap before tap), multiple HIPAA violations, name calling, sex in a medical field, bugging rooms with hidden cameras, bite play (ofc it's Sylus), so messy. !READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Sylus: His birthday was rolling around. You gave him a free favor coupon and boy… did he use it. “I’m redeeming my coupon. I want to record us during our lovemaking, doll. Have something to watch when you’re on a mission.” So now you are here. His evol is working overtime. Restraining, blindfolding, gagging and massaging you. The overload of sensations are too intense for you to even concentrate. The crimson ribbon of energy rubbing your swollen nub making your legs shake pathetically. You choked on your own saliva as another strand of the energy pumped in and out of your plush lips. You felt on the verge of passing out until he spoke. “You look so good through the camera, doll. Can I take this stupid rubber off? I want to feel her begging me to knock her up”. God… the mouth on that man. You let out a pathetic moan and nodded your head. He rolls the condom off. Slapping your abused hole with his tip. He eased himself back in before sucking a breath in. “Sh- doll… not so tight… relax… there you go. You’re so good for me.” Famous last words. He was fucking you so passionately you could’ve sworn that you’d melt into his silk sheets. The camera on a stand that was angled to get both your full bodies clearly. You could even see his flushed cheeks as he bit at any area of flesh he could sink his teeth on. Leaving a pretty litter of marks to ring around your nipples. You squealed and sobbed… but, damn did the pain and pleasure get you close. He pushed his thumb down on your lower belly. “My pretty girl… I want to feel myself cum inside you.” He grunted into your ear. Feeling his cock splurt inside you. You were so utterly full that when you came it oozed the sides of Sylus’s softening cock. Exiting without his permission. “Huh. I’d just have to do it all over again. This time… try to keep it inside. Won’t you?” Another click. Sylus started his camera up again for one… three more birthday videos. 

Zayne: You’re getting an X-ray. Zayne kept pestering you about getting an X-ray done to check your chest after a bad mission with a wanderer. He told you to wear loose clothing and take your bra off when the procedure was to commence. There was no tension or anything. Just a check up because your doctor boyfriend was worried. You wore a simple skirt since you had laundry that contained all your sweats or loose clothing. The hospital gown was riding up your thigh as you faced the wall. The machine in front of you. Everything was fine, he got the photos of your spine he needed. You were about to speak up when you felt an icy breath on your ear. “Don’t move. Or make a sound. Bring your leg up and hold on to the machine.” You did as he said. He gripped your thigh as he moved closer. Unzipping his dress pants and freeing his aching cock. He slipped into you after working himself in a bit. Holding your mouth in his big hand as you gasped. The harsh plap plap plap sounds filling the room. Zayne’s eyes stayed fixed on the way your ass bounced with every slap of his hips. The hand that held your mouth pulled you down to lay your head on his shoulder facing him. “You like this don’t you? She’s tightening up everytime people walk past. But, you’ll be so good right? You love me… so keep quiet. I will not lose my job because I wanted to feel you.” You nodded. Tears welling in your eyes as he rubbed circles on your neglected bud. “Then I’ll reward you. Get you right where you want to be.” His fingertips turn icy cold. Making you cum hard as he spills deep inside you with a grunt. CLICK. Zayne’s eyes widen realizing the machine got an X-ray of you both in a compromising situation. (It’s fine. He stole it and kept it in his folder somewhere)

Rafayel: Your anniversary was getting close. So he decorated his studio to do a boudoir photoshoot. He wanted a couple pictures so he can use it for reference in his painting he intends to gift you. You wore baby blue lingerie to give “ocean” vibes. The thigh highs squishing your thighs perfectly. Everything about you was so… appetizing. He already took pictures of you in very intimate poses. But, he was a greedy man when it came to anything about you. He moved your body so you were on your knees looking up at the camera. The sounds of the shutter making you giggle somewhat. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing. You just look so concentrated.” He furrowed his brows. “These are fine… but, they aren’t THEE picture, you know?” He smiled. Unzipping his pants. “I have an idea. Just be a pretty little muse and sit pretty.” You relented. Staying on your knees as he got close to your face. Pumping his length until he came on that lovely face he loves. CLICK. He whined. “Almost there. But, again. Not THEE one.” He smiled as he pushed you on the floor. Making you lay on your side as he held your leg up. Hiking it over his hip before he fucked you. His whines filled the room as he slapped at the fat of your ass. “Let me… ha… test my hypothesis”. He kissed your stocking clad ankles and legs as he fucked you. Putting the heel of your white stiletto on his chest. Letting you softly pierce his peck as he came inside you. He quickly took the camera. “Finally! This one is THEE one.” He spread your pretty folds. The angle got his cum flowing out of you, your flushed face, AND the pretty stockings. CLICK. He hung that painting on his bedroom wall. Giving a kiss to your painted core every-time he passed it. 

Xavier: The call was tense. He was really upset… no… actually he was PISSED. “Stop with the damn excuses. Why go to see the naked eye nova with someone else but me?” He could feel your eye roll. “Because you probably already did that with ‘her’…” Are you stupid or dumb? That’s all he could think about. “So you’re mad that I waited every LIFETIME for you? It’s not a competition if it’s LITERALLY YOU Y/N. Yes it’s different in a few ways. But, damn it. Do you not think it killed me to be alone waiting for you?” You stayed quiet. Maybe you overreacted. He groaned. “I wanted to see that with you. But, you just had to go with a guy from work. What department is he in? Tell me.” You could hear the sound of him sharpening his blade. So you needed to sedate him. “Xavier… I’m sorry. Let's make up.” He didn’t speak. “Please? I love you.” You heard him pause. Swearing you could hear him unzip his pants as he panted. “Ha.. again. Say it again”. You continued your praises as you heard him fucking his fist. “Xavier… I want you.” He teleports. His pants still around his thighs and his hard cock on display. He quickly discards his clothes and gets on top of you. Fucking you as your head kept hitting the headboard. Your phone started to ring. Your coworker calling you. “Fucking pick up.” Your shaky fingers answering. Trying to sound normal as your jealous boyfriend was fucking you so primal that the light in your room was flickering. You swatted his arm. His evol getting a bit out of control. You accidentally let out a shout as he came inside you. You gushed on his length from the intensity. “W-what was that?” “It was me fucking my girlfriend. Now remove her contact or I’ll report you to HR”. He ended the call swiftly before kissing your neck. “I still have some anger to let out.” Your desk lamp flickered radically… oh no. 

Caleb: It was no surprise that Caleb literally had cameras everywhere in his Skyhaven home. But, he still hadn’t had time to visit you in Linkon to bug those rooms too. His adorable and innocent pipsqueak. How could he leave his precious girlfriend out of his sights? He would go over previous recordings of your lovemaking while he was working on paperwork. So of course he went to visit you in Linkon with cameras in his suitcase to finally keep proper tabs on you. You were having your usual lovemaking in the spare room that was his. You rode him with soft gasps before chuckling. He smirked. “What?” You bit your lip. “I know about the cameras.” He froze. His cock nearly softened if it wasn’t for your plush walls sucking him. You leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Look at the apple plushy and smile… you’re on camera too”. You matched his freak TOO well. He was in love. Always was. But, this made his cock leak like never before. He pushed you on your stomach. His body covering yours as he slipped inside. “Yeah? So you like to be fucked in front of the camera huh? My little whore.” He gripped your face, lifting it up so you looked into the camera you put in the apple plushy. “Go ahead. Tell it who fucks you this good? Who knows you so well…” You gasped his name as your eyes rolled back. He grinds more. His free thumb spreading your ass to get a bit deeper. The tip nuzzling your g-spot. He took the hand that held your face and took two fingers, hooking it inside your cheek and pulling out before spitting into the opening. “Swallow. Don’t waste a drop.” He came so much that he pulled out and still had enough to paint your folds and ass. Sweat dripped from his face as he waved to the bugged apple. “Send me this video and I’ll send you all the ones from Skyhaven”. Ping. Video attached.

Dip Notes: I fed you my children. Go run and enjoy your day as if you didn't read the most depraved shit ever. I'm proud of you <3

[shortbcofkoffee]

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CW: Child abuse, parentification, cursing, the usual

Steph wasn’t too big on the idea of parents who try to kill their kids. Her dad had tried and failed, she sure as hell wasn’t gonna give him another chance. With that said, she wasn’t big on Bruce. He tried and almost succeeded in killing Jason. Like twice, if she remembered correctly. It wasn’t her place to forgive him, so she never did. Jason seemed okay with him now, so she was civil. 

That’s not to say she liked Jason either. He’d tried to kill her ex-boyfriend a few times. At least Bruce was paying for her college and apartment, Jason was just shitty.

But then Cass stumbled through the window of their apartment with tears in her eyes. There were a few things wrong with that. For one, Cass didn’t stumble. All of her movements were calculated and precise. For two, she was crying. Not to say that Cass can’t cry, she’s soft around the people she likes, but it’s rare to see. Steph rushed over to her to comfort her. Cass fell into her arms as Steph guided them to the couch. She ran a thumb across Cass’s wet cheek, wiping away her tears.

“Cass, babe? What’s wrong?”

Cass hiccupped and buried her face in Steph’s chest. “Tim,” she choked out. “Tim and Bruce… hurting him..”

Steph’s breath hitched. Something was wrong with Tim and Bruce, someone was hurt. Hurt enough to make Cass break up like this. They got hurt all the time, so what happened? Was someone about to die? “Okay. Okay, babe, I’m gonna need more info than that. But not right now. Let’s calm down first, yeah?”

Cass rubbed her eyes and pulled away. “Yes.”

Okay, Steph, she thought to herself, be a good girlfriend, do something. “Do you want some water?”

Cass nodded, and Steph carefully peeled herself away from the couch and into their kitchen. Assessment. Tim and Bruce were hurt. Someone was hurting them. If it were a field injury, she would’ve been informed already in their group message. That way, they could reroute patrols until the injured parties were ready to go back. And with Cass’s reaction, that injury would have to be near fatal. So that ruled out anything physical, which left mental. Or maybe this was a magic thing? Had they been cursed and it was something awful? A mental thing seemed unlikely, considering this was Tim and Bruce they were talking about. They were both brick walls of human beings. Well, that wasn’t fair. Tim was a pretty good boyfriend emotionally. Much better than the one before, at least.

She walked back to the couch with a cup of water and handed it to Cass, who downed it much too quickly. Steph was almost worried she’d choke. Cass put the cup on the coffee table and turned to Steph. She’d stopped crying, but her cheeks were still tear-stained. She took a breath and began to sign.

‘I went to Jason’s today,’ she started.

“Oh, fuck, what did he do this time?” It was always Jason, wasn’t it? It made sense, he made no effort to hide his disdain for Tim or Bruce. Even if they were civil now, catching Jason on a bad day was probably enough to set him off. But what did he do?

‘Nothing,’ Cass answered. ‘We talked. He…’ Her hands faltered. Another thing that rarely happened. ‘He explained to me that B was… is abusing Tim. Tim’s been hurting because of him, and I knew, and I did nothing. He was hurting, and I could’ve helped.’

Steph was not a fan of Bruce Wayne. She never had been and probably never would be. She still has nightmares from when he broke into her house to interrogate her father when she was eight. She still has nightmares about Black Mask. She has a lot of nightmares, stemming from simply knowing Bruce Wayne. But she knew him. And she knew that he cared about his kids. In a way, she’d never understand, but he cared. There were times when she doubted it, when they shouted at each other, when he got violent. When he tried to kill Jason. On Tim’s 16th birthday. 

There was no doubt in her mind that he was a bad parent, but an abusive one? Well… By all technical accounts, yes, but that was because of the hero work. No good parent would let their children be vigilantes. That could be somewhat excused. But he always liked Tim. They fought the least, he actually listened to Tim. He didn’t listen to anyone. She was a little jealous of that. And she really wanted to believe Cass, because why wouldn’t she, but

“Like how, like what kind of abuse?”

‘Emotional. Not like the usual emotional abuse, it’s different. He makes T pretend to be his father. He makes T comfort him. J said he groomed him.’

Steph grimaced. Because what the fuck. Bruce groomed somebody? Bruce groomed Tim? Had he been doing it the whole time, like even when they were still together? Like she knew he wasn’t a great person, but what the hell? She really didn’t want to be civil with him anymore. She didn’t even want him to pay for her stuff anymore. And it was to make Tim “comfort” him? What did that even mean?

“Oh, ew… It’s not like… It’s not sexual, is it?”

‘I don’t believe so.’

Okay good. Well, not good, but better. She thought. Was it better that it wasn’t sexual? She wasn’t one to play trauma olympics; she didn’t know. But this still wasn’t good, and like, where does one go from here? 

“So… what do we do? Are we gonna kill Bruce or something? Because he’s Batman, and there’s like too many logistical issues with that, but I wouldn’t be opposed. Like I have a plan to do it.”

She did. Because she hated him. And writing in detail how you’d kill somebody, and then burning that paper was cheaper than therapy. Which Bruce also probably would’ve paid for if she asked him.

Cass shook her head. ‘Intervention. For T, not B. We’re going to get him out of the manor and away from B. I don’t know where yet, but somewhere B can’t hurt him.’

Okay… that sounded good.

“But, like… what should we do about B? Break his legs or something? Or fuck with him a bit, mentally. Like he did to Tim. Or steal his spleen? Or cut his neck open. Like he’s done a lot of shit to us that he hasn’t been called out.” Cass frowned. “I’m being serious, you know how much I fucking hate the guy. If he wasn’t literally putting me through school and wasn’t you and Tim’s dad, I would’ve cut him out ages ago. And it’s not like we need him, specifically, as Batman anymore. Dick was an awsome Batman, that uber religious guy would’ve been pretty good if he wasn’t going through psychosis at the time. Hell, you’d be a great Batman, Cass! We don’t need Bruce, we could totally kill him or something!”

Cass put a hand on Steph’s cheek, stopping her mid-rant. Steph felt hot, angry. She could tell her face was red, and she hated it. She felt pathetic all of a sudden. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped an arm around Cass and pulled her closer.

“‘M sorry, Cass. Are you okay? He is your dad too, you probably don’t want to hear me fantasizing about killing him.”

Cass wrapped her arms around Steph in return. “It’s okay. Good to be angry. Means you care.”

“Of course I care! Even if I didn’t have the relationship with Tim that I did, he’s your brother. I’m gonna care.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “But seriously, what the hell? Dude, I was dating Tim forever, and I never noticed? I feel like such a piece of shit. And, like, I always knew there was something weird about them because, like, Tim always complained about the weirdest things. There was this one time for like a week straight, all he could talk about was how he yelled at Bruce until he had to literally drag him to the shower. I thought he was like exaggerating, but I guess not.” She leaned back, lying on the couch and pulling Cass on top of her. “And I guess I should’ve noticed when I was Robin, at least. Because Bruce was super weird about Tim then, too. He kept asking me super weird questions about him.”

A memory came to mind of when she came to the cave after school once. Back when she was still training. Bruce was at the batcomputer, looking at one of the small screens. She thought nothing of it at first, seeing it as a moment to pop up behind him to surprise him. It probably wouldn’t work, but if it did, it would prove she was good at stealth. Quietly, Steph put her backpack down and started walking as Bruce had taught her. Toes down first, lower yourself slowly with each step. That way, you made no noise when you walked. It took her a while to perfect, but she was getting good now.

She was a few feet behind him when she heard Tim’s voice, clear as day. “It’s okay. You’ll be alright, bud,” it cooed.

Steph frowned. She still hadn’t forgiven him for the whole “ kissing another girl” thing yet, and she certainly didn’t want to be reminded of who Bruce wanted her to replace right now. She started to walk again, but she must’ve misstepped because Bruce spun around so fast she thought his head might fall off.

“Stephine,” he frowned. Deep and disappointed, like she’d done something wrong by simply existing. Steph fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“What? I was trying to sneak up on you, and I got pretty close. That’s praiseworthy, right?”

Bruce closed the tab he was on. Steph peeked over his shoulder to see some security footage of the cave, but it was gone before she got a serious look.

“I suppose,” he said. “But Tim’s been able to sneak up on me since he was far younger. You’ll have to do better than “pretty close.””

In the present, Steph’s arms tightened around Cass.

“What… what exactly are like, the details? Like, what do you mean he makes Tim act like his dad? It’s for comfort, so like… what does that entail?”

Cass made a small sound and pushed herself away to sign. Steph should’ve expected that; Cass didn’t even like talking on good days, but she still missed the weight and warmth.

‘B is making Tim pretend to be his father. Helps him take care of himself. He calls him dad, and T calls him pet names. T scolds him and comforts him. Like a dad. Like what B does for Dami. Or a little different, Dami doesn’t really like physical affection.’

Oh, ew ew ew. “So he like makes Tim give him physical affection when he feels sad or whatever?” Cass nodded. Steph’s stomach turned. That explained what she heard in the cave that day. She didn’t want to imagine Tim cooing at Bruce of all people. Just ew! “Cass, that’s so fucking gross, oh my God.” She buried her face in her hands. “That’s so fucking gross. Holy shit, I wanna kill Bruce. How many hired guns do we know? Like enough, right? We don’t even need one, I could do it myself. I told you I had a plan. It’d take a little bit, the whole thing’s long-winded, so it’s not brought back to me.”

It also involved cozying up to a few rouges while avoiding the ones that had a crush on Batman, which was a surprising number. The bare bones basics of the plan were to overwhelm him, get him captured by one of the many rouges with a grudge, torture him for a little bit, then drop him dead in the middle of some street after putting acid in his cowl. That way, if it were taken off, no one would know it was Bruce Wayne. She burned the paper for a reason, though; it was one of her darker thoughts. She didn’t really wanna kill anyone, but she’d never hated Bruce more in this moment. She dragged her hands down her face and looked at the ceiling.

“I won’t do it. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could.” She turned to Cass. “I’m sorry, Cass. ‘M sorry your dad’s such a piece of shit. Are you okay?”

Cass started to nod, but her movements stuttered, and she shook her head instead. “No…”

“Okay.” Steph pulled her back into a hug, letting Cass bury her face in Steph’s chest.

It took a little while for the couple to travel to bed. Steph was adamantly against sleeping on the couch, it wasn’t great for the back. She never fell asleep though. She just stared at the wall and listened to Cass’ soft sleeping breaths. She debated killing Bruce again. She could, by all means. And could get away with it. But it’d eat her alive. There wouldn’t be a day that went by that she didn't hate herself. As much as she hated it, Bruce was right to not want them to kill. It’d take a toll she wasn’t ready to pay. None of them felt ready to pay it. She knew even Jason, for all his big talk, got uncomfortable when someone reminded him about all, or at least some of, the lives he took. The ones that didn’t deserve it. She knew it had destroyed Damian developmentally to the point he couldn’t go to school for a while after he showed up. It was one of the rare things Cass cried on her shoulder about. It had wrecked her. So the rule was one of the only things she respected Bruce for. 

And she wanted to kill him. And it could plausibly be quick if she went over to the manor right now. It wouldn’t be easy; you don’t just kill Batman, but that’s why she had a plan. It wouldn’t change what’s happened to Tim. Steph’s arms tightened around Cass. Cass, who might hate her forever if she did. Or maybe she wouldn’t. She’d understand, right? Would that matter? Of course, it would, but Tim mattered too. Steph should stage a kidnapping. Steal him away, maybe take him to San Francisco. They could live in Titans Tower if they needed to. But no, Bruce funded that too. Maybe they could just hide away in Alaska until Bruce finally keeled over. That wouldn’t work either. Tim was a workaholic to the core, he’d fight his way back to Gotham if he had to.

Steph nuzzled her face into the top of Cass’s head and sighed. No solutions tonight. She’d come up with something better than Jason’s intervention idea, maybe, probably, probably not. Tim was so… Tim. If an intervention was the only way to get to him, then she’d join, but surely there was something else. If there were, she’d try it. But he responded well to logic and evidence. If there was a fact, he’d believe it even if it destroyed him. Even if it was about himself.

Damian and Thomas were the two youngest in the manor. Damian supposed there should be some sort of kinship between them, but they were vastly different people. Their motivations were different. Damian preferred visual arts while Thomas was a writer. Damian patrolled at night, and Thomas in the day. There was a two-year difference between them. They never spent much time together. Thomas was in high school and Damian in middle school. 

Speaking of which, that's where they were going. Because of Signal, Thomas primarily took classes online, but he needed to take tests in person. This was one of those days. They were eating lunch together now, which was nice. Damian ate alone most days after using his entire social battery in class. They were sitting quietly for the most part while Thomas looked over his notes for his next test, but eventually, he broke the silence.

“Damian… what's gonna happen to us?”

Damian looked up from his sketchbook. “Hm?”

“Like if this gets to the point we have to be taken away from Bruce. What's gonna happen? I don't- I can't go back into the system.”

Damian hadn’t thought about that. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Who would they go to? Timothy was old enough to live alone without problems if he emancipated himself, and he would be 18 in just over nine months, but Damian and Thomas couldn't.

“Richard,” Damian said finally. “We could live with Richard.”

Thomas almost scoffed. “And move to Bludhaven? I mean, maybe you could, but even if I wanted to, does Dick even have the ability to house both of us? Does he even want to live with me?”

Damian's brow creased. “I do suppose our night activities would be more difficult if we moved. But what do you mean? Why wouldn't Richard want to live with you?”

Thomas shifted in his seat. “I mean, you know… Me and Dick aren’t that close. It’d be like if you moved in with him right after meeting him for the first time.”

Damian frowned. “I moved in with Richard quite soon after we met. When Father was stuck in the time stream.”

Thomas cringed a little. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I just don’t see your point.”

“The point is, I’m not as close to any of you. Like you guys are all siblings, and I just moved in a few months ago.”

Now that confused Damian. “If you’re worried about the legality of the matter, Richard wasn’t officially adopted until he was an adult. Timothy was also adopted much later either. The paperwork has little to do with our relationship.”

“I’m not talking about the paperwork, Damian. And I don’t want to be adopted anyway, I’m waiting for my parents to get better. I’m just saying we’re not that close. I’m not your brother.”

Damian hummed. He’d said the same thing about Timothy when they first met. And Todd and Richard, but they were his siblings all the same. He didn’t have siblings at first; he does now, and he’d come to appreciate them. Thomas was one of them. “If you say so. But I doubt Richard would have any qualms with taking us both in. He also had his issues with the foster care system.”

Thomas blinked in surprise. “Oh yeah. He did, didn’t he?”

“But you’re right, moving to Bludhaven wouldn’t work. Todd is legally dead, and he wouldn’t be a very good guardian anyway. That leaves us with Cain and Gordon.”

“The commissioner?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Barbra.”

“We could run into some problems with that. Cause she’s in a wheelchair, but we’re old enough that it might not really matter.”

“And living with Cain and Brown may become a problem if Father stops paying for their apartment.”

“Could they even keep four people in their apartment? I think it’s like one bedroom.”

“Yes, that wouldn’t work unless they moved. Perhaps Timothy could pay for their new apartment. He is the Wayne Enterprises CEO now. He makes more than enough money to pay for everything.”

“Is it cool to ask Tim for money right now, though? We’re like, about to disrupt his life in a major way, the least we could do is get money somewhere else.”

“Yes, well, no one else in our family is actually rich. They’re all mooching off Father.” That wasn’t true, though, was it? “No. My mother is also rich.”

“Who, Talia? Isn’t she like… in the League? Is that who we want to get our money from?”

“She is not anymore. Not exactly. I don’t actually… It’s complicated. And we may have to if we have no other choice.” Was his mother with the League right now? He hadn’t talked to her in a while, it was unclear. Their alliances were always changing, it was annoying.

“Well, that’s good, I guess.”

Damian grimaced. “I hope we won’t have to share a room.”

“Yeah, for real. I couldn’t imagine sharing a room with you,” Thomas teased.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you don’t seem like the easiest going roommate. You seem like the type to have an extra loud alarm clock that goes off at sunrise.”

Damian scoffed. “Well, you hardly seem like an easy roommate yourself. And why wouldn’t you wake up at sunrise, Mr. Day Bat? Don’t tell me you don’t prepare before patrol.”

“I prepare! And I wake up at the perfectly reasonable time. 6:30. 5:30 if I sleep at the manor.”

“Well, I don’t wake up until 7:30. If we were to share a room, I expect you to wake up at the same time. I think you’d need the extra beauty sleep too.”

“Oh, ha ha. Just because I’m not perfectly clear-skinned and pale like the rest of you freaky white people, doesn’t mean I’m not the hottest person in that house.”

“I’m not white. Neither Cassandra nor Richard. And she’s much more beautiful than you.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t count, Cass is like a literal angel. So I’m the best looking out of the guys at least.”

“Only because Richard doesn’t live with us. And don’t try to bring up Timothy, everyone looks better than him. Without makeup, he looks half-dead.”

“Hmph. Well, whatever. Point is, I wake up at a very reasonable time.” Thomas paused. “But now that I’m thinking about it, I think Babs is our best shot. She can make a super good case for herself. She has a house and a full-time job, and you’ve known her for a while.”

“Does Gordon even know what’s going on? Has anyone told her?”

“I mean… she’s O, she knows everything. She has to, right?”

Damian shook his head. “Not exactly. She isn’t constantly monitoring everything, she only looks when we ask or something is needed. It’s not as if she’s stalking us.”

Thomas gaped at him. “Shouldn’t someone tell her? Like soon? Like before we hold an intervention where we need evidence, like video evidence?”

Damian blinked. That made sense. Why hadn’t anyone contacted her yet? What in the world were they doing? “Do you have your phone? I think we should call her.”

“Uh, yeah, no shit.” Thomas fumbled to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Should I call her work phone or her day phone? Since we’re asking for information.”

“Either should be fine. But let’s go somewhere with fewer people.” The cafeteria wasn’t crowded, and no one was sitting within earshot, but better safe than sorry.

They went to the courtyard, sitting under a tree. Gordon picked up after the fifth ring.

“Hey, Duke. Is this important, because I’m at work right now.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s super important, but it’s not like urgent. Nah, it’s urgent but not right-this-second urgent. Also, Damian’s here.”

“Hello, Gordon,” Damian greeted. “There’s something going on and we found it pertinent to inform you.”

“Okay? Hey, Damian. Is this something for O, because you should’ve called the other line.”

“We don’t really know?” Thomas offered. “It’s complicated.”

“What is it?” she sighed.

“Okay, don’t freak out. But um… long story short, Bruce is abusing Tim, and we’re having an intervention eventually. But like me and Damian were wondering if you could scrape some security footage from around the manor so we could use it as evidence. And also, don’t freak out again, we were wondering if maybe you could take us in or help us in that area if this got weird and legal and we get taken from Bruce.”

“We have very limited options between you, Richard, and Cain,” Damian added.

It was silent on the other line for a full thirteen seconds. But a voice came through eventually.

“I’m sorry, I just…. Correct me if I’m wrong. Bruce is abusing Tim, and you want me to look for evidence? You also want me to possibly adopt you in case you’re both taken from Bruce’s custody?”

“Not adopt, but yeah, pretty much,” Thomas cringed.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll look. And I wish you’d told me sooner. I’m assuming everyone else is aware.”

“I think so?” He turned to Damian. “Does Dick know?” Damian nodded. “Yeah, everybody knows.”

“Okay. I’ll scrape through footage when I get home from work. Thanks for telling me. But can you tell me what I’m looking for?”

“No problem. Uh… Basically, when Tim and Bruce are alone together, look for any weird hugs or something. If you find audio, that’s good. Tell Cass if you find anything. Or Jason, I don’t know. Probably Cass, yeah, Cass is better.”

Gordon made a small mm-hm, and hung up. Thomas turned to Damian and met his eyes before looking away. Damian could see him bite the inside of his lip.

“Thomas? What’s wrong?”

Thomas sighed. “Nothing, Damian. Just thinking about something.”

Damian hummed. “Well, lunch is over. I need to go back to class.”

Bruce was in the cave again. It was to be expected, honestly, Hell Week started this weekend, and he was already stressed as is. Tim didn’t know if he was happy about that or not. On the positive side, it meant he was out of Bruce’s hair for a while. He had time to breathe without thinking about Bruce pouting. In the negative, it meant Bruce was gonna be burnt out next week which was when he was supposed to go to Bludhaven with Dick. Oh shoot, he forgot to tell Bruce Dick was coming for Hell Week. That wouldn’t be a huge problem, but Tim cursed himself nonetheless. Bruce was a control freak if nothing else, and this meant he’d have a little less time to plan everyone's patrol routes. Not even a full day less, like 14 hours. 

Tim groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He had something to seriously look forward to. He was going to Bludhaven with Dick for a photography expo, he could meet people there. If he ever decided to get back into photography, that is. He didn’t mean to drop the hobby, but vigilante work, being a CEO, and taking care of Bruce were a full-time job. Tim barely had time to sleep, let alone pick up a camera. He missed it. He didn’t even realize he missed it until Dick called him. Photography was the one thing Tim had when he was younger, everything else was for someone else. For his parents, for other socialites. Tim loved it, and he’d left it behind.

Tim looked down at the spread of photos beneath him. They were all old, nothing from the past year. He couldn’t make a full portfolio with year-old pictures. They were good, obviously, he cared deeply about how each turned out, down to the last pixel. But they were old, and what if someone actually tried to contact him afterwards, and he lost his touch? He’d actually die of embarrassment. He had to go out and take some more, he only had a little over a week to update his portfolio.

His camera was right where he left it, a shelf in his closet. The bag it was in had collected dust, and Tim felt a little pang in his heart. If there was a speck of dust on the lens… he didn’t know what he’d do. He would’ve never let that happen before. He’d never gone this long without touching his camera. It felt heavy in his hands. It felt familiar. Tim smiled to himself and pulled his phone out.

‘I’m going out for a little if you need me, but I’ll be back in like 2/3ish hours,’ he texted Bruce.

Bruce texted him back a thumbs-up.

Tim tossed the bag strap over his shoulder and headed to the garage. He should probably take a bike rather than walking or riding his skateboard. He turned a corner and almost bumped face to chest with Alfred.

“Oh! Hey, Alfie,” Tim said.

“Master Timothy,” Alfred greeted. “Master Bruce has been in the cave for over ten hours. If you’re not busy, I was hoping you might find a way to coax him out.”

Tim’s heart dropped. He knew he should, if Bruce made a habit of staying down there all the time again, it’d be hard to break him out of it. And he’d be down there a lot in the next few days. But Tim wanted to go out. He wanted to take photos while he still had time. Alfred frowned at his lack of an answer, and Tim’s chest felt tight.

Bruce was downstairs. He should deal with that. Alfred wanted him to. Tim had a responsibility here, and yet here he was, trying to get out of it. Tim should help. He should, that’s why he’s here. He felt disgusting.

Tim gulped. “Um, I’m really busy. But I’ll be back in a couple hours, so I’ll get him then.” He quickly walked around Alfred. “See you later.”

He just stared forward until he was on one of his bikes and a few hundred feet away from the manor gates. He couldn’t believe he did that! He had a job. He came here for a reason, he entered Bruce’s life with a purpose. One he was denying. And even if he’d just said no to Bruce, which was hard enough as is, he said no to Alfred. No one said no to Alfred. 

Well, that was part of why Tim was here. He was supposed to help Alfred with Bruce. Bruce was their kid, Tim was supposed to help take care of him. So he and Alfred were on equal footing; he could say no to him. 

It wasn’t a good justification.

Tim said no to Alfred. He wasn’t doing his job. He just wanted to take some pictures, he needed to update his portfolio. It’d be okay if Bruce were down there for a few more hours. He should turn around. He should go to the cave and get Bruce to eat or go to bed or something. He should, he knew he should. 

But then he probably wouldn’t make it out again today, and the thought of being home alone with Bruce for hours. And Bruce had been getting worse lately, not by leaps and bounds, but still noticeably. And if Tim just let him be, he didn’t even want to think of what would happen. And something would happen. Bruce was a ticking time bomb of a person. Tim’s purpose was to snuff out his fuse whenever it got close to lighting. And he wasn’t doing his job!

The self-aware part of his brain told him Bruce would be okay for a few hours. Time blends together in the cave, Bruce would barely notice the time passing. But then, if Bruce looked at the clock and thought Tim had abandoned him while he was depressed in the cave, Tim wouldn’t forgive himself. He wouldn’t notice. Because Bruce had alarms that went off to notify him of anything important, so as long as Tim was back before patrol, Bruce wouldn’t mind. It was just a few hours. Bruce would be fine for a few hours, he wasn’t a baby. And he was working, he wouldn’t even notice. 

Tim wanted to throw up as he got off his bike at the park. It was a relatively nice day for Gotham. No sun, as per usual, but the layer of cloud was thinner. Tim took a grounding breath. He was here for photography. The perfect shots. He took his camera from the bag and turned it on. He always made sure to charge it before putting it away, so it was still at full battery. He aimed it at a tree and opened the settings. He needed to adjust for the light and color balance. 

It felt nice, it was all familiar, and he felt everything else fade away. He found a few snails to capture close-ups of. He didn’t have a lot of wildlife pictures; most of his old ones were cityscapes he captured on the high roofs of Old Gotham. He found some more small animals. He was sure he could find some rodents if he went to an alley or subway. Maybe he could find Ivy’s garden. She was in Arkham right now, so she wouldn’t be there.

He fell into a rhythm, finding nice things at the park and a few of the busy downtown streets before hopping on his bike and riding down to the docks. He liked the docks. They were quiet, away from people. And if he came at the right time of day, the sun on the water was beautiful. Tim knew better than to get too close to the water; it was probably the most cursed, if not polluted, body of water in the world. He got some good shots of the boats. 

He could probably get the skyline from the WE building, so that was his next stop. He was dressed in casual clothes when he entered, different from the suit his employees were used to seeing him in. The old lady at the front desk, Mrs. Samuel, beamed at him when she saw him.

“Look at you, Mr. Drake. Finally dressing your age.”

“Hi, Mrs. Samuel,” Tim said, digging in his pocket for his employee card. “I forgot to tell you, but I really loved the cookies you brought to the employee party last month. They were really good, did you make them yourself?”

“Oh, you flatter me, Mr. Drake,” she smiled. “Yup. With my own two hands. I’ll make you a batch of your own since you loved them so much.”

Tim finally found his card and scanned himself in. “Really? Thanks, I’d love that. Bye, Mrs. Samuel.”

“Have a good day, Mr. Drake.”

Tim waved back at her and headed to the elevator. There was a helicopter pad on the roof, but there probably wasn’t a helicopter up there at the moment. He talked to a few more people on his way up, a couple asked about his camera. Tim actually really liked his employees, even if they tended to baby him sometimes. He kind of expected that, most of them were in their mid-thirties and/or parents at least, and he was still 17. They treated him seriously when they needed to, and that’s what mattered.

Once he was on the roof, he sighed. It was nice and quiet up there. And he could see the rest of the city pretty well, since this was the tallest building. The pictures up here were beautiful. Gotham was beautiful. The architecture, the noise, the people. Tim loved it here. He took a picture of the skyline. The WE building stood out from the others in Old Gotham. It’d been renovated to look more modern after the earthquake, so now it stood out from the surrounding 19th and 20th-century Gothic architecture. It was weird to look at, and a great contrast, so a great picture. Tim got a few more pictures as he left. 

As he was walking to his bike, his phone buzzed. Dick had texted him. It was a screenshot of a tweet with the caption “Tim Drake, WE CEO, spotted with camera at park.” There was some more text about him taking pictures. Dick sent another text.

Feeling excited? :)

I have to update my portfolio

Just finished taking pics, gonna head home to edit now

Coolio

I’m about to head over in a few hours so i’ll be there tonight

You’re coming early? I thought you wouldn’t be here until Sunday

Nope! Coming tonight

C u soon >3<

Tim frowned at his phone. Okay, so he really needs to tell Bruce then. Shit, he has to tell Bruce. He left Bruce in the cave before he left and he’d been running around for four hours. He totally forgot! How did he let himself forget, he had to go home. Tim drove back to the manor, a little faster than he probably should. He pulled into the garage and went straight to the library, passing Duke and Damian as they arrived home from school. When he entered the cave, Bruce was sitting at the computer, analyzing data from the strain of fear toxin they had stolen. 

“Hey, B,” Tim started carefully. They had a couple hours before patrol. Tim’s goal was to get him out of the cave before then. “What’s going on?”

Bruce looked up at him. “Reverse engineering. Trying to figure out the similarities between this and other strains. So far, it seems very similar to the true base form. There are no hallucinations, but it raises glutamate levels while slowing the release of adrenaline. Essentially making you feel trapped while your brain tries to make your body panic.”

Okay, well, that wasn’t good. “So if someone was dosed without knowing, it’d seem like intense paranoia and confusion with no source.”

Bruce nodded. “There may be other effects. I’m not done yet.”

Tim hummed. “Well, you can take a break. We need time to eat and do warmups before patrol, plus Duke and Dami just got home. You should ask them about their day.”

Bruce looked at the time and grimaced. “Yes. Give me thirty more minutes, I’ll finish up.”

“Okay, well, first, you’ve been here since yesterday. You need time to recharge before patrol. Secondly, thirty minutes down here is like two hours to the rest of the world, and the rest of the world is where you need to be right now. Especially since Dick is coming to dinner.”

That caught his attention. “Dick is coming?”

“Yeah. He’s gonna help for Hell Week, so even if it gets too busy, Damian and Duke can still go trick-or-treating.” Bruce looked between the stairs and the computer. “I’ll finish up down here, B, go spend time with your kids.”

Bruce looked between Tim and the computer a few more times, clearly debating what to do. It shouldn’t be a debate; Tim would much rather be spending time with Duke and Damian than working on this. Finally, Bruce started to walk to the steps. He mumbled a thank you to Tim as he passed, and Tim just smiled. When Bruce closed the grandfather clock behind him, Tim sank to his knees. 

Bruce hadn’t noticed. Of course he wouldn’t have, Tim wouldn’t have noticed either. The cave was like a time capsule, he didn’t need to worry about being late. He’d stressed himself out over nothing. He worried himself to almost throwing up for no reason. He wouldn’t be in trouble if he’d stayed out later. He could’ve, he had the freedom to. 

But Bruce was getting worse. He was, Tim knew he was. But Tim hadn’t even had any physical contact with him today. He was just busy, that was why. They both were, they just hadn’t seen each other. But they just had, and they were alone, and Bruce hadn’t even tried to at least touch his shoulder. All he did was say thank you. That wasn’t like Bruce. Bruce needed affection, especially when he was on edge like he had been for the past week or so. Was their conversation yesterday really all Bruce needed? He didn’t need anything else out of Tim? 

Tim didn’t know how to feel about that. He knew he should feel glad, probably, maybe. A happy Bruce was what Tim was striving for, so why did he feel like this? It was fine. It was. They were just both busy today. And Tim didn’t want Bruce to touch him. He hated the feeling of Bruce’s heavy hands and his almost palpable sorrow. He hated it so much. But Bruce hadn’t tried anything in the one interaction they had. But it had only been one interaction. They still had dinner, pre-patrol, patrol, and post-patrol to get through. It’d be okay.

It was good that Bruce had asked for nothing. It was good that Bruce hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. It was good that Bruce was hanging out with his kids. It was good that Bruce was happy. Tim didn’t want Bruce to hug him. He didn’t want Bruce whining and sulking and looking at him like a kicked puppy. This was good. Bruce was good. Tim was good.

He was.

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[heyclickadee]

So, here’s the thing. The finale is weird. Yes, I’m hurt by the fact that Tech didn’t come back and that a character that’s very near and dear to my heart was badly handled, and that will never sit right with me. But even apart from that, the finale fundamentally does not function as a piece of storytelling or as the end to this story. I’m glad that people are enjoying it, and I will never tell anyone not to. But I don’t think it works. (I get very negative about the TBB finale under the cut.)

It’s not just the Tech stuff or the CX-2 stuff (which may very well have been the same stuff) that got dropped. It’s *everything*. Every theme, Every narrative thread besides retrieving Omega, every character arc except marginally Omega’s, Echo’s (also marginal), and Emerie’s, which was the shortest and gets wrapped up by her deciding to help Echo rescue the kids. It all stops. It makes everything that came before seem cheap and pointless if you take it into account. And this is so, so frustrating for me, because the entire show was driving towards this incredibly rich payoff, it could have been immaculate, and then it whiffed the ball so bad in the last episode that it didn’t just miss, it managed to knock over the bleachers and set the entire court on fire.

Some examples:

1. This season had a really interesting exploration of Crosshair’s PTSD via his hand tremor and how it was something he can learn to manage, but not something that would ever fully go away. Aaaaand then his hand gets chopped off. One, that was stupid. I’ve seen some excellent posts (here’s one by @the-bi-space-ace) detailing why that was a terrible way to handle Crosshair’s lingering trauma, and others talking about how the idea there was that Crosshair needed to move on and it was severing his last ties with the empire. The former, I agree with; the latter, I don’t, because not only—not only!—does this episode stop dealing with Crosshair’s trauma, it doesn’t even deal with having cut off his hand! It just sort of occurs. No one reacts to it, no one says anything about it, there’s no follow up or commentary, nothing happens as a result—it’s an event which occurs with no results coming after it. It may as well be an animation error. You can say it was about Crosshair needing to let go and move on, but that’s something you have to project on to the text, not something that’s actually offered by it. It’s empty.

2. Crosshair again: We also have the lingering issue of Crosshair’s guilt and the fact that he never seems to get to a point where it’s resolved. There’s set up for a resolution. We have that, “Sure you have,” like about Crosshair from Rampart. We also have Crosshair saying he deserves whatever happens to him in Tantiss. And then…no pushback. No resolution. No moment of Crosshair realizing that he doesn’t need to carry that burden. Nothing that says he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He had all this character development this season, but he needed - last little push to forgive himself—and we never get any indication that he does. It, like his trauma, gets dropped like a rock.

3. Hey! More Crosshair! A good chunk of Crosshair’s arc this season was about learning that anyone can change, first, and that no one is beyond saving. Eeexcept that goes no where.

4. Which brings me to my next point: There is set up for the CXs to be saved. Even if we’re laboring under the conclusion that CX-2 was never intended to be Tech at any point in the writing process (I have. Doubts. Yes, I’m calling the creative team liars, here, but with the understanding that they have contracts that may require them to lie), we do have the set up where we learn the electrocyanide zappers can be removed, and with Rex offering forgiveness to CX-1. “Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us.” CX-Tech or no, Crosshair’s arc was tied up with the CX plot, and because he’s the one the CXs tend to react to—or, at least, understands what was done to them—the set up was there for him to help save and maybe rehab the CXs. At the least, there was an indication that they could be saved. Eeexcept nope! That gets dropped like a rock, too, and they’re not going to deal with it. Time for maximum carnage.

5. Hunter’s arc actually takes a step backwards. Sure, he gets a technically happy ending, but because the squad is basically in the same place they were in “Pabu” back in season two (down a member but successfully hiding from the Empire in a safe place), it negates Hunter’s development towards actually taking action—and actually hurts Echo’s arc, too.

There’s been this tension all through the show between just sitting things out on the one hand (Hunter’s way) and taking direct action despite the futility on the other (Echo’s way), but instead of finding some kind of middle ground or third road, it sort of comes back around to saying that, actually, Hunter was right, they should have just gone to Idaflor back in episode three and never left even though the Pabu invasion said that no, you can’t just hide, and even Hunter’s development was moving in the opposite direction. And this also means that Echo never reaches a point where he feels like he can walk away and that he doesn’t have to get himself killed doing this. Despite development otherwise they both end up back at that conversation in “Tipping Point” without any move in either direction or resolution of that tension.

6. Omega. Okay, Omega probably comes out the best after the finale, and, conceptually, I actually love the idea of Omega becoming a pilot even if the epilogue falls a little flat for me. But stuff with Omega still got dropped, including:

- The force stuff. We have two episodes dealing with m-count (after learning in episode three what Omega was created to do). We also have Ventress telling Omega that she doesn’t have a high m-count as far as she can see, Crosshair immediately calling Ventress out for lying, and then Ventress basically saying, “Yeah, no shit, but if she has force potential she’d have to leave you behind, and it doesn’t matter what your opinion on that is, so I’m not dealing with that.” Aaaand then,m. That. Goes nowhere. Despite a bit of set up for Omega connecting to the force as early as episode one, and some more set up in Tribe, and that whole subplot of her learning how to meditate, and so on.

Now, I don’t think that it was ever going to turn out that Omega did actually have a high m-count or that she had a particularly powerful natural connection to the force. I think she’s probably got a low or baseline m-count. What I do think, however, is that we were going to see Omega connect anyway as a refutation of Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire scheme. Their goal (based off of the ST) was to create extremely force sensitive clones as a way for Palpatine to jump bodies without having to waste time re-learning how to connect to the force. You know—dark side, quick and easy path, focus on eugenics and raw power, etc. Had Omega connected anyway because of her big heart and desire to protect, it would have not only paid off that set up, it would have also refuted Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire goal. It would have worked so well thematically and the set up was THERE.

- branching off of that, I think the Omega force stuff was probably tied to the Zillo beast. We also had a through-line of Omega being good with animals and taking the time to calm them instead of responding with violence. The first time we see this is in “Replacements,” where she realizes that the ordo moon dragon (also an electrophage—I don’t know what to call these things—like the zillo beast) is just scared and hungry. This is all conjectural, but it still fits with what was set up.

- Moving on from the force stuff, we also had a through-line that started way back in episode two of the series, but which was really emphasized this season, about Omega feeling like she’s the cause of the bad things that happen to the people she loves. This is why she gives herself up during the Pabu invasion in the first place. This is never resolved! We get Omega’s confidence boost when she realizes she has the force kids to take care of, but we never get a moment where Omega realizes that she has no reason to feel guilty. She’s the glue that holds the family together! But nope! Also dropped!

- But wait! There’s more! The first two season finales have Omega watching someone she loves fall away while she’s helpless to do anything to save them. That’s perfect set up to put Omega in the same situation, but be able to save them, because she’s finally come into her own. Instead we just end up with her needing to be rescued again.

- Omega has this big speech in Shadows of Tantiss about spending her life stuck in one place or another against her will, and how she refuses to be confined like that. I don’t think Omega would have been happy just staying on Pabu for the entire rest of her childhood and young adult life, even if I think she’d want to use it on a home base. But! Dropped!

7. I still can’t get over the fact that the zillo beast is on screen for about two minutes and then just. Walks away. It’s a large beastie that’s been locked in confinement for a while and is probably hungry. And somehow it didn’t go straight to the reactors for some delicious energy smoothies. Like. It. Did. The. Last. Time. Someone. Let. It. Out. But no, that would have required it sticking around for something that was probably dropped sooooo ZILLO BEAST EXIT STAGE RIGHT I GUESS. (Edit: I have been reminded that Hemlock does say to turn off the generators once the zillo beast is out, so that at least makes sense. I still think the zillo beast should have stuck around to do something.)

8. You notice how there are a ton of commandos around Tantiss, even up through “Flash Strike?” And how they kind of largely cease to exist? And how Echo says that there are far more clones imprisoned in Tantiss than anyone thought? And then how they rescue, like, a dozen guys? Because we never find our way back to those cells Crosshair was held in during season two? And how Tarkin does mention not wanting to allow clone dissidence to turn into an uprising back in “The Summit?” Because I did. This show was never going to be about a clone rebellion, that wasn’t the point, buuut I do think the set up was there for an uprising at Tantiss itself. Begin the series with clones losing their agency en masse, end the series with some of the most subdued clones taking it back. Except nope, dropped, soooo we gotta pretend the commandos don’t exist and murder the hell out of poor Scorch.

9. SPEAKING OF. The batch does kill clones sometimes, that does happen, but they do at least usually make some kind of effort to be non-lethal even when they’re not using stun, and times when they do resort to lethal tactics are usually born out of extreme circumstances. Not here, though!! NO HESITATION MAXIMUM CARNAGE. For. Reasons I guess.

10. There’s one point IN THE FINALE where Echo mentions signaling for Rex. This never comes up again. Rex does not show up. In fact, despite being called, “The Cavalry Has Arrived,” the cavalry does not in fact arrive. There is no cavalry. Yes, I know it’s a reference to Wrecker’s first line. But I’m sorry if you call an episode that YOU HAD BETTER HAVE A CAVALRY SHOW UP. Especially when you have a one about calling them in! But that also!! Got dropped like a rock!!

11. One positive: the moment Crosshair and Hunter leaning on each other to make that shot was nice.

12. Sorry, but Hemlock’s death was deeply unsatisfying. Let’s do something more than just shoot him multiple times, okay?

13. Rampart’s death, on the other hand, was incredibly satisfying. That said, the conversation about project necromancer? I’m dying. It’s actually hilarious, because it basically goes like:

“Tell me about project necromancer.”

“Wow! How interesting!”

I’m.

Are you serious?

I’m going to become the Joker.

Yes, I know we know what project necromancer is because of a different show. That’s not the point, the POINT. Is that any pay off for project necromancer in this show got dropped. And that’s deeply frustrating from a narrative perspective.

14. Speaking of, we never find out anything more regarding that partially successful m-count transfer from episode three.

15. We also never do anything with those medical records!

16. And Omega has a whole crossbow she never actually shoots despite the fact that her role on the team was as a sharpshooter after Crosshair left, and despite her getting advice from Crosshair on how to be a sniper. The literal chekov’s gun never goes off. I’m going to go eat gravel.

17. AZI, likewise, got toted around for three seasons for no reason. Probably could have helped with the medical records. Given that he was a Kaminoan medical droid. Oh, and that Omega was Nala Se’s medical assistant. So. Hmm.

18. You can cut everything in the season past episode five and skip straight to the epilogue and end up in the same place. This is not because the other episodes are filler. Far from it! The other episodes are great and deliver some amazing set up. But, because the finale does nothing with that set up, it doesn’t go anywhere.

19. And you know what else? From a narrative perspective, there’s no reason for Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair to be in these episodes at all. They don’t accomplish anything and make everyone else’s job harder. Omega was doing fine, she would have gotten out with the kids with just Echo and Emerie, and Tarkin was coming to cut off Hemlock’s funding and shut everything down once Hemlock lost control of the facility anyway. I can only suppose that the whole reason they were in this episode ended up getting dropped, too.

20. CX-2. Listen, the answer we get about CX-2 isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “Maybe, maybe not—you don’t get to know.” Because. He’s the only CX whose mask never comes off. After a season and a half worth of buildup of unmasking CXs and people pressing them to learn their names. It’s not a no, it’s a non-answer, which is far less satisfying.

And finally:

21: CX-Tech. I’ve seen some people speculating that there was a planned CX-Tech reveal that got scrapped at the last minute—dropped, along with the other points I’ve already laid out. And, honestly? I have to agree. Despite what the creative team says, because even their denials kind of come out weird (like the Kiners saying that the large brass chord in “Battle of the Snipers” was just a nice sounding brass chord and not a reference to “Plan 99.” They also basically say that the sacrifice theme from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif. Which. Is all over “Battle of the Snipers.” That theme. Not Crosshair’s. In a scene. Where he’s supposed to be fighting a shadow of himself who Totally Isn’t Tech but we put Tech’s leitmotif here and layered it in Techno music but nooo that was never supposed to be him. Nope. I mean, come on. I’m not stupid).This post is already long enough, so here are some posts by @apocalyp-tech-a pointing out the reasons why I think this was the case, and one by @eriexplosion pointing out why CX-2 as Crosshair’s shadow and only that doesn’t quite work. I don’t need to go over the trail that was laid out again. Up to the finale this was a character that had more screen time—and far more solo screen time—than Echo. Some people will not stop yelling that there was no evidence, and. No. I’m sorry, there was. I can’t agree.

And some people might say, well, okay, the show misdirected you guys and pulled off a twist by having CX-2 be no one, and well, I can’t agree with that either. Twists only function if the twist is more satisfying than the conclusion to which the story seems to be leading. And I’m sorry, you can’t tell me that a season and a half of CX building and three seasons (because I can find set up all the way back in episode one of the show) for Tech survival culminating in what amounts to a boss fight is more satisfying than getting to see Omega have her big brother back. You can’t.

The reason I bring this up last is because, yes, I think CX-Tech was a plot dropped at the last minute, but because I also think that it’s the dropped plot that ripped everything else apart. CX-Tech was an incredibly efficient way to tie up most of the lingering plot threads and dropped character development.

-Crosshair’s guilt? Okay, he faces down the end result of his decision to stay with the empire and possibly something he knew about (Tech would be in this situation because of Crosshair, and were given hints that Crosshair knew) and is finally able to forgive himself because they’re able to save him.

- Hunter’s decision to finally take action and be proactive rather than reactive is validated, because it’s the thing that finally gets him his entire family back.

- Echo saves someone the same way he was saved, and maybe he realizes that it is enough and that he doesn’t have to be a soldier forever.

- Wrecker’s efforts to keep the family together and keep Hunter sane finally pay off.

- Omega is able to protect the people she charges about and finally, finally has all of her brothers.

- Thematically, it rounds off each member of the batch (Omega included) traumatically losing and then taking back their agency in a way that correlates directly to who and how they are as people.

- It also rounds out the OG batchers each being haunted by a failure that has to do with the thing that makes them special.

- You get pushback against “Clone Force 99 died with Tech! We’re not that squad anymore!” because no, it didn’t, and they’re more than a squad, they’re a family.

- It comes around and closes the wound opened in Aftermath and ripped back open by Return to Kamino: they go in for Omega and lose someone, but here, they go in for Omega and get someone back.

- Would allow Tech to close off his lingering threads and finish his character development BECAUSE THOSE REMAINED UNFINISHED.

- Completely subverts the “bury your disabled” trope by making sure we know the character whose disability was explored the most’s life is more important than his death. Seems like an important thing to do in a show that is kind of about disability. Just saying.

- Makes the lack of closure and little mentions of Tech make sense from a storytelling POV because the necessarily catharsis would come from his return.

- And it would actually add some triumph to the ending. Yes, this little family survived. They outlived the war. They’re together, despite every effort to rip them apart. They made it, despite the dark times, despite the Empire, despite what they were made to do and be. They defied all of that. That would have been so, so satisfying.

As is, without Tech, without that CX-Tech reveal, we sort of end up in this weird place where all the themes are half-baked. They are more than soldiers…except Tech, who had to fall out of the story as a soldier (despite us getting the clearest glimpse of what his life outside of soldiering could have been). They get to live how they want…except Tech. They don’t leave their own behind, except Tech that one time. They should value their own lives a little…except Tech. They’re more than a squad, they’re a family…except Tech, the only one besides Omega to say that’s what they are, doesn’t get to see it, and they don’t get to have him around. We begin the series with a broken family and end it with a family broken differently. That’s not dynamic.

So there’s no really punch to the ending. It’s sort of…well, okay, we tortured a family for three seasons I guess. Relieved that the survivors are doing okay, but that’s kind of it.

22. The finale in general is just sort of a bunch of events which happen, but which don’t lead into one other. It’s weird. It’s not that too much happens, it’s that almost nothing happens. Nothing of substance, in a way. The finale is, in a word, the only true filler episode in the entire show.

TL;DR: I think a lot of stuff got dropped from the finale. I don’t know why. I suspect that it might have to do with the strikes—basically, the script was done, most everything was recorded and boarded, and then when the finale was in production they got sudden drastic budget cuts (this was during a time when the studios were disappearing entire completed shows and movies as tax write-offs), had to gut what they had planned, and couldn’t bring the writers or even showrunners in to smooth over what was gutted or to even pick what got taken out. They wouldn’t have gotten to choose or compress things. They were on strike (because the studios wouldn’t negotiate), and whoever did choose ended up just ripping out the stuff that would actually take any time or budget to deal with (so, basically everything I laid out), killing it (literally), and using the remains of what they already had recorded. And who knows how they had to fill in gaps.

But I don’t know for sure. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was a last minute decision to take certain plot points and put them in a different show. Maybe it was executive mandate. Maybe the creative team just sucked the whole time (that’s one I have a hard time buying—we have four other shows and most of this one that tell me that they’re better at their jobs than this). Maybe everyone said screw it, who even cares anymore at the same time.

Maybe nothing happened. Who knows? I strongly suspect something bad did happen behind the scenes that was out of the creative team’s hands—I really do, because that’s the only way I can make sense of this—but until we can get someone talking without six layers of PR and NDAs, we won’t know for sure. All I know is that The Bad Batch is an amazing show with 46 episodes that range from “fine-but-clunky” to “IMMACULATE,” with more leaning towards immaculate than not, and some incredible set up, and one episode so nonsensically bad it makes me want to eat drywall.

It’s just that the one terrible episode comes right at the end.

I love The Bad Batch. I love every single episode and all the things that were set up, but…eh, I think I’ll be ignoring the finale until further notice.

[novascharms]

MY STRANGE ADDICTION - RAFE CAMERON

dealer! rafe cameron x maddy perez

Maddy Perez has never been addicted to drugs—nor will she ever be. Her only addiction is the campus dealer she just can't seem to shake off and no matter how hard she tries to break free, she keeps getting pulled back into his orbit.

masterlist  w.c — 800 c.w — none a.n — choosing to continue this cause i got two free weeks and like lots of ideas abt these two for someee reason. lets ignore that rafe would actually off himself if he had to deal with maddy hihi :)

how rafe usually grovels for forgiveness <3

Maddy rested her head on BB's shoulder, her half-lidded eyes fixed on the professor’s projected computer screen, though none of the words actually registered. She hadn’t been in the lecture hall for more than five minutes and already regretted letting Kat convince her to drag herself out of bed for this stupid 8 AM class.

“Coffee’s not cutting it anymore,” Cassie grumbled, sliding into the seat next to Maddy and BB at the far back of the room. “At this point, I need caffeine intravenously.”

Maddy groaned, her voice muffled by exhaustion. “I could kill Kat.” Her eyes flicked around the lecture hall. Students were still filing in, with about seven minutes left before the lecture started, but there was no sign of Kat.

“She better show up,” Maddy muttered, her voice edged with irritation. “Or I swear to God—”

“How does Lexi do this every single day?” BB cut in, cracking open a can of Red Bull and taking a long sip.

“She’s insane,” Cassie replied flatly, leaning back in her seat.

“She’s just more disciplined than we’ll ever be,” came Kat’s chipper voice from the aisle. She appeared with her usual infuriatingly bright smile, the kind that made Maddy’s scowl deepen. “That’s why she got into a way better school than us.”

Maddy crossed her legs, pulling out her phone with a dramatic yawn. She began scrolling through her notifications aimlessly, barely registering anything on the screen.

“Oh my God, I love your nails!” Cassie tilted her head to get a closer look, admiring the tiny rhinestones glinting against Maddy’s polished tips.

“Thank youuuu,” Maddy sang, holding up her hand to admire them herself.

“Didn’t you just get a new set?” Kat asked, her brow furrowing as she leaned in for a better look.

“Yeah,” Maddy replied with a casual nod. “Got sick of them.”

Kat’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t this, like, your third new set this month?”

Maddy paused to think, “Hmm, I think so, yeah.”

The girls stared at her as if she’d just sprouted a second head.

“Is your nail tech that affordable? Put me on.” BB asked, incredulous.

Maddy raised a brow. “Oh, God no. She charges a ton, but I can’t cheat on her. My cuticles have never been better. Plus, the last girl butchered my nails so bad I was bleeding.”

“I remember that,” Kat said, scrunching her nose in sympathy.

Cassie frowned, clearly doing the math in her head. “Wait…you can afford three sets a month?”

Maddy shook her head, not even looking up from her phone. “Rafe pays for them.”

A stunned silence fell over the group. All three girls exchanged wide-eyed glances. Maddy hadn’t so much as mentioned Rafe’s name since the last party, and they were approaching the one-month mark that usually ended their no-contact period. Everyone had been holding their breath, waiting to see if she’d relapse on him.

“I thought you stopped talking to him,” Kat ventured cautiously.

“I’m not talking to him.”

“And you’re not…you know.” Cassie gave her a pointed look, laced with judgment.

Maddy shot her a sharp glare. “I’m not fucking him either.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” BB leaned forward, her voice incredulous. “He’s paying for your shit, and you’re not even putting out?” Her voice carried loud enough that half the lecture hall turned to look at them.

“Bitch, shut up!” Kat hissed, shoving her.

BB grimaced and lowered her voice. “How the hell did you manage that?”

Maddy leaned back in her seat, folding her arms. “He’s groveling,” she said simply, her tone dripping with disdain.

The silence from her friends was deafening, forcing her to elaborate. “I’m not answering his calls or texts. He’s trying to…apologize.” She wrinkled her nose like the word itself offended her.

“You thought I was just paying for all that takeout?” Maddy asked, turning to Cassie with an arched brow.

Cassie’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, he’s been sending all that food? I thought you were just being nice!”

Maddy snorted. “Have you met me?” She opened her banking app and held her phone up for them to see. A long list of direct deposits from Rafe filled the screen.

“And that doesn’t even include the food and the random packages he keeps sending to our dorm,” Maddy added as she turned off her phone.

BB stared at the phone, her expression one of mock despair. “God, when is it my turn?” she muttered, looking heavenward.

Kat laughed, shaking her head. “You don’t even believe in God.”

“Well, I’m starting now,” BB said, gesturing dramatically toward Maddy. “Because clearly, He’s real.”

Kat turned back to Maddy. “So…are you gonna see him again?”

Before Maddy could respond, her phone buzzed with a new message. She glanced down at the screen, her lips curving into an amused smile as she read it.

“Mm, maybe,” she said, her tone light and nonchalant. But the glint in her eye said everything her words didn't.

masterlist

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 16, Unaccompanied - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language.

Word Count: 977

Previously On...: You felt even worse when Bucky revealed that Carthage had someone weaseled her way onto the Quinjet to join him on the Russia mission.

A/N: It's short, so you'll get two parts today! Second one will post at 5pm, EST. NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony greeted you as you entered his lab. He was surrounded by bits and pieces of various tech, obviously in the middle of some experimentation. “How are you feeling? Obviously good enough to be walking around. I’m glad you’re here, actually– I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I thought Carthage was benched, Tony!” you interrupted, ignoring his greeting. Rhodey had been making a slow, but steady, recovery, but as far as you knew, Tony had not lifted his blanket ban on keeping Jade grounded from further missions. Tony frowned at you. “She is,” he said, giving you a puzzled look.

“Then why the fuck is she on the Quinjet with Bucky on the way to Moscow right this minute?” you asked, accusation clouding your words.

Tony put down the electronic components he’d been holding. “Well, I certainly didn’t approve it. I only just got you to forgive me. You think I want to willingly make you even more pissed?”

“Well, someone did,” you said. Your arms were crossed over your chest and you were pouting like a petulant child. 

“I’ll look into it,” he promised, “but don’t overlook the possibility that she took it upon herself to stow away. Not just to get some alone time with Barnes, but to get herself back on the mission roster, too.”

You hadn’t considered that, but now that you did, you wouldn’t have put it past her at all. “Thanks,” you huffed.

“Why do you even care, though?” he asked. “I thought you two broke up. Can’t believe you still won’t tell me why, by the way.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Because it’s not your business, Boss,” you told him. Truthfully, you wanted to confide in Tony, to tell him what Bucky had done, what he had said, so you could bask in the comfort you knew he would offer you, but you truly believed that, if he knew the full truth, there was a very good chance Tony would actually try to murder Bucky. You might not be prepared to fully forgive him, or be with him again, but you certainly didn’t want him dead. And honestly? The last time the two had gone up against one another, it hadn’t ended so well for Tony, either. You doubted Bucky would purposefully hurt him– he wouldn’t do that to you– but you’d never forgive yourself if Tony got himself injured because of you.

“Pfft,” Tony scoffed. “Not my business? What kind of pseudo-big brother would I be if I didn’t look out for my pseudo-little sister? Besides, you think I don’t already know it has to do with him and Carthage being a little too close?”

“Tony,” you warned. “Just find out how she got on that Quinjet, okay? Please?”

“Finnnnnne,” Tony conceded with a roll of his eyes. “You’re lucky I still feel guilty about that med bay incident.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I really appreciate it.”

“With that out of the way,” he said, sliding his rolling stool over to you, “I need a favor.”

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Tony to ask for a favor in your moment of turmoil. “Go on,” you urged him.

“The annual shareholder gala is on Saturday,” he told you. You nodded, knowing that the event was upcoming. You’d been planning on being away on the mission, so you hadn’t given it much thought. “Big topic of conversation’s going to be your C-PAS. I want you to be there to talk it up, get the investors excited about it so they’ll open their wallets.”

“Ugh, Tony,” you groaned, “you know I fucking hate schmoozing. Can’t you do it? You’re so much better at bullshitting rich people than I am! Besides, I’m sick. What if I throw up on everyone important? Is that really a risk you’re willing to take? Think of the optics.”

Tony rolled his eyes at you. “We’ll load you up with anti nausea meds if we have to,” he reassured you, “so you’ll be fine for a couple of hours. Come on, Pocket. You’re my Chief Technical Officer. This program is your baby. No one is going to sell it as passionately as you. You know that. Don’t you want to show your hard work off?”

You considered it for a moment before dropping your arms and let out a groan. “Fiiiine,” you conceded. “But you’re really gonna owe me for this one, Stark.”

“I’ll buy you a pony,” he said with a smile.

“Oh my God, really?” you squealed. You knew he didn’t mean it, but you sure as shit were going to play into it.

“No,” Tony said, looking at you like you were a complete idiot. “Where the hell would we keep it?”

“I dunno.” Your expression turned into a sour pout. “You could buy a farm Upstate or something.”

“I suppose we could raise some sheep there,” he said thoughtfully.

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “That takes me back.”

Tony grinned at you. “So, all seriousness, what do you want in exchange for a few hours of your time on Saturday?”

“Buy me a new dress,” you said. “And shoes.”

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding somewhat disappointed, as though he’d expected you to ask for a yacht or some such thing. Maybe you did need to up your asking game.

“Okay, how’s this– new dress, shoes, handbag and jewelry, PLUS,” you added with a pointed look, “official write ups in Carthage’s file listing her as unfit to continue beyond her probationary period for recklessness and conduct unbecoming an Avenger. Enough to guarantee no amount of votes will allow her to stay.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder. “My dear Pocket,” he said, smirk growing wider, “here I was hoping you were going to ask me for something difficult. It would be my pleasure.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[raygirlramblings]

Did what they did with Jade and Pey'j in Captain Laserhawk bother you, too?

SPOILERS AND RAGE BELOW

I AM SO ANGRY YOU HAVE NO IDEA

Beyond Good and Evil fans got SHAFTED BAD. THEY GOT DONE SO BAD AND IM LIVID.

All these muppets going ‘lol the Rayman fandom must be so upset about Laserhawk’ and NO.

NO WE ARE THRIVING WE ARE SO CRAZED AND STARVED AND WE ARE ON CLOUD NINE THAT OUR BOY GOT ALL THIS SCREENTIME

In the first trailer for Laserhawk Rayman was an EASTER EGG. We didn’t even know if he’d have a role with speaking lines until the second trailer. AND WE WERE OK WITH THAT! If baby bean was just a background element to expand the world we would have been happy for the crumbs. But no! Our boy got a full speaking role with a CHARACTER ARC IN A SIX EPISODE SHOW. He got BACKSTORY and RELEVANCE TO THE PLOT. And he DIDN’T GET KILLED OFF.

All that for a character we were expecting to get NOTHING from.

But JADE?!

PEY’J???

They were front and centre from the first trailer. They were established as being as central as Dolph and Bullfrog and WHAT DID IT GET THEM.

Jade gets taken out in ep 2 of 6, and Pey’j goes down the next episode.

At LEAST Pey’j went down being exactly what I expected him to be. A kind protector trying to make the world better. Trying to stop conflict. Trying not to take his pain and suffering from the loss of a girl he loved deeply out on an unfair world. He died a noble if pointless death and from Bullfrog’s expression alone we can see how much it hurt.

JADE GOT NOTHING. Jade died when we barely knew her. We needed more of her. We wanted to see her shine, see more of this wonderful awkward tomboy with a gentle heart. We needed to see how she interacted with others. She DESERVED BETTER. SHE DIDN'T EVEN GET ANY FINAL WORDS.

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE ‘I HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU’ SCENE OR I WILL SNAP AND PUNCH SOMETHING. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

In a show where I watched my favourite childhood character swearing, wielding guns and doing sushi and blow off a hookers back THIS JADE AND PEY’J SCENE IS WHAT MADE ME CRINGE.

I am willing to forgive so much from this show. So much of it was a wonderful, ridiculous, beautifully animated rollercoaster.

But implying any kind of romantic sentiment between these two characters only to kill one of them off in the same episode was so damn weird. It was wrong on so many levels. There was NOTHING WRONG with their older mentor/young ward relationship. It could have been great. I don’t understand why they did this. It didn’t add pressure or gravitas to the situation, we KNOW Pey’j would do anything for Jade, HE DOESN’T HAVE TO HAVE A CRUSH ON HER FOR THAT TO BE REAL.

And seeing Jade and Pey’j in Dolph’s VR dream sequence just felt so hollow. We needed at least an episode to establish any kind of team energy from these four, but we didn’t so seeing Jade give Dolph a pep talk about relaxing more came off as flakey and not good enough for a character who deserved better. They didn’t even establish what Jade and Pey’j were supposed to bring to the team. Pey’j is just ‘the tech guy’ in the same episode he dies. Jade has to play a femme fatale against her type but we don’t even get to see her being her best. To quote Rayman ‘IT’S NOT FAIR’.

Oh boy.

I feel a little better getting that anger out. I’m just sad. I’m sad we lost them. They deserved better.

[vodika-vibes]

Undersea/Merfolk AU with the Bad Batch please! Can be romantic or platonic.

Stand By You

Summary: You spent your whole life living in the Royal Orphanage of Atlantis. According to the Matron, you were found on the front steps when you were hours old, and no one ever showed any interest in adopting you. You’ve since aged out of the system, luckily, you made some pretty solid friends. Unluckily, you’ve also landed squarely in the crosshairs of a Sea Wizard.

Pairing: platonic TBB x F!Reader, hinted Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 2792

Prompt: Merfolk AU

Warnings: reader is attacked

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I wasn't sure, at first, where I was going with this, and then I had an idea. And then I had to change the idea halfway through because it was edging into Little Mermaid territory. Anyway! I hope you like it~

“I’m telling you,” You say with a roll of your eyes as you flip so that you can look at Tech while swimming backward, “I am a very poor fit for the Atlantis military.”

“You have not even tried,” Tech points out as he adjusts his glasses, then swiftly grabs your wrist to keep you from swimming into a statue, “You can not continue living in a cave outside of the city.”

A petulant pout forms on your lips, “Watch me.”

He sighs as he carefully tugs you so you’re swimming next to him, “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

You glare at him and flick your fingers towards your tail. Your very mammalian tail. Unlike the other merpeople of Atlantis, your tail looks more like a seal than a fish.

Tech glances at your tail, and then at you, “No one cares that your tail looks different.”

“Correction, you don’t care that my tail looks different. Everyone else cares a lot.” You fold your arms, “Just because they don’t say it around you, doesn’t mean they don’t say it.”

“Well, that is a good reason for you to get a military job,” Tech tries, “Make people see you differently.”

“It’s like you’re being deliberately obtuse, Tech. Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“I am listening to you!” Tech stops and grabs your shoulders, “You are not listening to me. It is not safe for you to live outside the city. Do you know what it would do to us if something happened because we were not there to protect you?”

You sigh and lightly wrap your hands around his wrists, “Tech. I know you’re only being like this because you care—”

“Because you are family,” Tech says.

“But you’re making me feel like you don’t actually care about what I’m saying.”

He closes his eyes, and drops his hands, “That…is not my intention. I am sorry, vod.”

“I forgive you.”

You fall into a comfortable silence, and then Tech bumps your shoulder with his, “I would feel more comfortable if you moved behind the walls.” He says, “But I understand why you might not want to do that.”

“It’s not like I want to live in a cave like a sea witch, Tech. No one will hire me. And, without any money, I’m kind of stuck.” He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off with a press of your finger against his lips, “And don’t even think of saying that I can move into your barracks. There’s barely enough room for the four of you.”

Tech sighs, “I do not like that you are right about that.”

You grin at him, “Relax. I’ve been living in that cave for years now, and nothing bad has happened.”

“Yet. Nothing bad has happened yet.” Tech corrects.

“Well, maybe I’ll be lucky.” You shrug, as if you’re unbothered, “Anyway, thanks for coming shopping with me.” You add as you lift your netted bag.

“You are welcome. Are you heading home?”

“That’s the plan. Tell the others that they can come and visit whenever,” You say as you back away from him, “And be careful at work, all of you.”

“You do not have to worry about us.”

“Truth, I’m going to do it anyway.” You quickly dart in and press your lips against his cheek, “I’ll see you later, Tech.”

“I will tell the others that you say hi,” Tech replies.

You toss him one more grin, and then turn to swim down the path that will take you out of Atlantis proper, splitting from Tech, who continues straight to the military barracks. 

Your home is near the kelp forest, several miles away from the solid walls that mark the city of Atlantis. The location tends to work in your favor, seeing as there’s a lot of food in the kelp forest that you can gather, or catch, without having to pay for it.

On the other hand, your neighbors aren’t the best.

One of your neighbors, a Cecaelia sea wizard, who goes by the name Verdant, has been trying to coax you into his employ for the better part of the last two years.

He’s nice enough, you suppose. He understands what it is to be seen as not normal in Atlantis and has always been your biggest supporter when it comes to helping you advocate for yourself.

Still, you have no intention of working for him. 

You have the feeling that working for him would put you in opposition with your closest friends, and you’d sooner cut off your arms than allow that to happen.

You slow as you approach your home, a single brow arching when you see Verdant, and his two most loyal retainers, in front of your cave. “Something you need, gentlemen?” You ask as you swim over to them. 

“Ah, my dear,” Verdant beams at you as he swims over to you, “I was wondering where you were.”

“In Atlantis,” You reply, “They get deliveries of surface fruit this time of year, and it’s something that I enjoy when I can.”

Verdant’s grin seems to widen, “How wonderful! Tell me, my dear,”

There’s something about the way that he’s grinning that makes your skin crawl, and you begin to regret not taking Tech up on his offer to crash with him and his brothers for the night. 

One of Verdant’s cronies moves so that he’s almost circling you, ushering you closer to Verdant, “Tell me, you’re friends with several members of the Atlantis Military.”

“We grew up in the Orphanage together,” You reply, it’s not an answer, not really, and judging by how his smile fades, he agrees.

Roughly, Verdant grabs your chin, “I want you to convince your friends to look the other way while we enter the city.”

“No.” The answer falls from you almost without your permission. 

“No?”

“No. I’m not going to help you. Let me go.” You try to jerk your head out of his grip, but he just tightens his hold on you, until it’s painful.

“I have been exceedingly patient with you, child. You have to help me.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” You counter, “Can’t we go back to just being neighbors who sometimes say hi to each other?”

“No.” Verdant releases you and you try to back away, only for the twins to latch onto you, holding you still. “If you won’t work with me, then I suppose you’ll just have to suffer.”

“What do you—?” You’re cut off when you feel a sharp pain in your lower abdomen.

“I am a variant of the Blue Ringed Octopus, little one. Your death is going to be very slow and very painful.” He lightly pats your cheek as your vision starts going grey at the edges, “Assuming you don’t bleed to death first, of course. Release her. We have places to be.”

The arms holding you still vanish, and you sink to the ground.

They swim away while you struggle to cling to consciousness. Whatever they did to you, you can’t seem to move your tail, wherever you try, it sends shockwaves of pain through your whole body.

The next thing you’re acutely aware of is a cry of your name. 

Omega leans over you, her hands pressing firmly against the wound on your abdomen, “—ld on, just hold on! Help is coming!”

What a shame.

The last thing you would have ever wanted was for Omega to find your body. The only thing worse would be dying in her arms.

Shame that it isn’t your choice anymore.

You sink into darkness with Omega’s increasingly panicked cries of your name ringing in your ears.

The waiting room in the Atlantis Military Hospital is silent save for the muffled sobs of Omega as she buries her face in Wrecker’s side.

And while Hunter would usually love the fact that it’s not loud, after six hours of waiting for some news, any news, the silence is beginning to be deafening. 

He drums his fingers against his side for a moment and then swims over to the window, just for something to do, while he tries to stop thinking about what she looked like when they found her.

He wants to forget the blood and how unnaturally still she was.

Hunter wants to be angry that Omega was the one who found her, he wants to rage at her, and tell her that if she just listened to them, this wouldn’t have happened.

But after 6 hours, his rage has been totally extinguished. Replaced with an icy terror.

What is he going to do if she dies?

How is he supposed to keep their family going if she dies?

Hunter flickers his gaze around the room. Omega isn’t crying anymore, though it looks like she’s cried herself to sleep while cuddled against Wrecker. She still has blood on her hands and shirt and streaked down her tail.

Hunter should have helped her get cleaned up, why didn’t he help her get cleaned up?

Wrecker is tense, his hands curling into fists, and then relaxing, before curling back into fists. This has to be torment for him, the sitting and the waiting. He seems pretty calm, all things considered though. Probably because Omega is right there.

Hunter wants to say something to him, to reassure him that she’ll be alright, that she’s stronger that people give her credit for. But, in truth, he doesn’t believe it himself.

So he keeps his mouth shut and flickers his gaze over to Tech.

Tech is sitting closest to the doors that lead to surgery. He’s flipping through a book, very quickly, and a glance at the titles makes Hunter shake his head. They’re books on medicine, surgery, and poisons. Of course, Tech is dealing with the situation in the only way he can. His hands are shaking, though.

Makes sense, Tech was the last person to see her before she was injured. He’s probably blaming himself. No one else here blames him, of course, but Tech has always been his own worst critic. Hunter will have to keep an eye on that, and maybe call Phee if he starts to spiral too badly.

Finally, Hunter turns his attention to Crosshair. Crosshair is folded into a chair, his head in his hands.

Right. Crosshair has always been closest to her. She’s always been very good at handling his mood swings, even when they were kids, and Hunter’s pretty sure that Crosshair’s feelings towards her have long since stopped being simply platonic. 

Not that he’d ever admit it, even to himself.

“You’re staring, Hunter.” Crosshair says quietly.

“Just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’m not the one that was nearly murdered. I’m fine.”

“She’s going to be fine.”

Crosshair releases a bitter laugh, “You don’t even believe that yourself.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything for a moment and then turns to face Crosshair fully. He opens his mouth to say something, only to pause when the door to the surgical suite opens, and the Doctor enters the room.

He looks exhausted, but pleased with himself. 

The Doctor’s gaze sweeps the room, and he nods once, “Her injuries are severe, but I’ve managed to repair the worst of the damage, and she has been given the first of three doses of anti-toxin. We won’t know the extent of the damage until she wakes up, but assuming nothing goes wrong over the next couple of days, she’s going to be just fine.”

The tight string of tension that had been running through all of the brothers snaps at the doctor's words as they slump in relief. “Is she allowed visitors?” Hunter asks.

“Not just yet. Give us some time to get her settled in the observation ward, and then you can visit her.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Tech says as he straightens, “This is very good news.”

The Doctor smiles at them and then turns and leaves the room.

No one moves for a moment, and then Omega lets out a delighted noise and she twirls, “She’s going to be okay!”

“So it seems,” Hunter agrees, a relieved smile on his face.

Slowly, you open your eyes, feeling like you’ve been asleep for far, far too long. You feel warm and comfortable, and it takes you a moment to completely push the sleep away to figure out where you are. 

There’s a quiet beeping noise coming from nearby, and you roll your head to see what is making that noise, momentarily confused when you see a heart monitor next to your bed.

You slowly sit up, the blanket tumbling from your chest to settle at your waist, and you absently tug on the sleeve of the shirt you’re wearing. It looks, and feels, like the soft material used in hospitals. 

And then you remember. Verdant. His Cronies. The stabbing.

You lift the hem of your shirt and peer down at your stomach. There’s a massive wound, running from just over your hip, across your stomach, and stopping just under the breast at the opposite side.

You touch the injury, and aside from some faint pain, it doesn’t hurt.

You must be on some good painkillers.

It’s about that time when you realize that you can’t feel your tail. For a moment you think that Verdant cut your tail off to punish you, though as you move the blanket, you can see your tail is still there. 

White and dark grey with black spots.

The same tail you were born with. The same tail that had you treated as an outsider. 

You stare at your tail as you try to move it. To twitch your flipper, or anything.

But nothing happens.

The door to your room opens, and you turn to stare at the Doctor. He looks surprised to see you awake, but then he smiles, “How are you feelin—?”

“I can’t feel my tail.” You interrupt.

His smile vanishes.

The next couple of hours fly by. Tests and more tests, and long conversations with dozens of different doctors, and they all say the same thing.

The attack that nearly killed you permanently damaged your spinal cord. You’re likely never going to be able to move your tail ever again. And then they leave you on your own, with little more than an appointment with a therapist to help you learn to live with your new circumstances.

And so, you’re not in the best mood when your family arrives to visit you. 

Though, Omega flinging herself into your arms, wrapping her arms tightly around your neck, and burying her face in your hair is almost enough to make you smile again. 

“How are you feeling?” Crosshair asks, as he moves to the other side of the bed, his sharp gaze flickering across you as if searching for any injuries the doctor might have missed.

“I’m…okay, all things considered.”

“Just okay?” Tech asks.

You frown slightly, “I’m going to be in the hospital for a bit longer.” And then you hesitate.

“What’s wrong?” That’s Wrecker, from the doorway. The room isn’t really big enough for everyone.

“Um…well,” You pause, “The attack left some lingering damage.”

Hunter lightly takes your hand in his, “Tell us.”

“I’m paralyzed,” You clench your jaw, to keep yourself from crying. You’re still alive, there’s no reason to be upset. “I can’t swim anymore.” Hunter’s grip on your hand tightens, “The doctors are working on coming up with a way for me to still be independent, but—”

You start when Crosshair lays his cheek against the top of your head, “We’ll help.”

“As much as we can.” Wrecker agrees.

“If we pool our money,” Tech says, “We can afford a place outside the barracks for all of us to live. I will work up a budget.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t be silly,” Omega says stubbornly, “We’re family, this is what family does.”

Some of the anxiety fades away, and you flash the smallest smile towards all of them, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Hunter says, “We’re not doing anything that you wouldn’t do for us.” He flashes a small smile, “We take care of each other.”

“You are going to have to talk to Marshal Commander Cody about the attack,” Crosshair says, “Everyone is very interested in knowing who attacked you so close to Atlantis.”

You nod at him, “I know. I’ll tell him everything he wants to know.”

Two weeks later, you’re released from the hospital with your new mobility harness strapped around you. You’re going to need help for a while, while you adapt to it, but you’re not too worried.

You have a pretty solid support system, after all.

And they’ll never let you get hurt.

[blazingstar400]

[Clavell trying to understand everyone better]

Clavell: Tell me about your friend group, Florian.

Florian: If I explain all that we’re gonna be here for a while… where do I even start?

Florian: Hm… well… I guess I can go ahead and start with Carmine. She’s tough, smart, hot-headed, hard to read, and scary as heck sometimes. But I think she’s secretly nice.

[Flashback]

Carmine: Tell me who has me for Secret Santa.

Juliana: What? Noooo! That takes all the fun out of it!

Carmine: *glares daggers at her*

Juliana: It’s me. I got you a scarf. It’s blue and ugly. I can return it if you wan—

Carmine, snatches the gift before she can finish: Well now it’s my blue and ugly scarf! Back off!!

[End of flashback]

Florian: Next I guess is Nemona. She’s hyperactive. Not the most brilliant, but she works harder than anyone else. She doesn’t have the best aim or grip on things though.

[Flashback, Nemona unwraps a muffin, then drops it on the ground.]

Nemona: Awww shoot! My muffin!

[As she picks it up, she smacks her head on the table.]

Nemona: Ow! My head! My muffin and my head!

[End of flashback]

Florian: Penny’s probably the most brilliant when it comes to tech and stuff. She was the Leader of Team Star. Gets underestimated because of her looks, so she’s always trying to prove she’s tough.

[Flashback, Penny puts hot sauce on her sandwich. She looks up to see Florian watching her.]

Penny: You think I can’t handle this much hot sauce? I can handle way more than this. *she empties the hot sauce on her sandwich and takes a bite*

Penny, in agony: In... your... face.

Florian: ...I never said anything…

[End of flashback]

Clavell: What about Arven?

Florian: Arven’s probably like the big brother of our group. And he cooks for all of us. If it weren’t for him we’d probably all eat unhealthy or starve…

[Flashback]

Kieran: *is eating a chocolate bar*

Arven: *quickly snatches it out of his grasp and crushes it*

Kieran, now slightly annoyed: Hey!! I was eating that!!

Arven: Not on my watch!! You have been eating nothing but chocolate and candy for the past few days! Don’t you know how unhealthy that is??

Arven, bringing out a well seasoned salad: Here! This would be a lot better for you to eat!

Kieran: *looks down at the salad with a disgusted/grumpy look*

[End of flashback]

Florian: Kieran is the shy and sweet one in our group but at the same time… he’s also really emo and edgy. Also, I think he’s secretly down bad for Juliana but he’s in complete denial. He’d probably kill me if he figures out I told you so just don’t tell him I said that…

Meanwhile, Kieran is in his room petting Furret but suddenly pauses: Why do I feel like Florian is out there somewhere… telling my deepest, darkest secret?

Clavell: And Juliana?

Florian: Juliana’s the strongest trainer in our group. Also, she’s the one with the purest heart. Loves music, helping others, saving the world, stopping then forgiving bad guys, and solving puzzles. The only puzzle she hasn’t seemed to solved though... is how to grow up.

[Flashback]

Florian: Stay here while I get more supplies for our up coming trip okay?

Juliana, beaming: Don’t worry, Florian! I’m not going anywhere!

Florian, closing his eyes and sighing: You better. This store is like a maze. So just stick close to me so you don’t get lost okay?

Florian: …

Florian: Okay?

Florian: …

Florian, opening his eyes: …Juliana?

[He sees Juliana rushing off in the distance after a butterfly]

Juliana: Heeeey!! Come back here!!

Florian, watching with an unamused look: I should have known…

[End of flashback]

Florian: And finally there’s me. I’m really just a typical average person. Not much to say about me.

Florian:

Florian: Honestly, I feel like I’m the only normal person in my friend group….

[random-blurbs]

I Need Your Help - Chapter 3

Masterlist

Hearing the plastic crinkle behind you - you couldn’t turn around before the treat was placed in front of you. “Almond?” You asked as your hand wrapped around the plastic bag bringing it closer to your body.

“I thought you would want to try that one.” He reasoned remembering the last time you got a plain one. But was able to see your eyes linger on the one right beside it. But considering you practically finished the case for them it’s reasonable to get the sweet treat you probably really wanted. “Thanks.”

Packing up your bag you sensed the same unmoving presence behind you. Feeling uncomfortable you turned around sending him a questionable look. “Is there something you need?” Looking over his body language he seemed so hesitant to tell you something. It doesn’t look like bad news, just general nervousness that he seems to carry everywhere he goes.

“If it’s ok with you…can we stay in contact? I just want to ask you some questions? And I just don’t know when we’ll see each other again.” He said it in a tone where it seemed like he didn’t even believe it himself. As you started to question his motives along with it.

Questions? What type of questions?

“Are you going to interrogate me or something?” You questioned trying to understand what he’s getting at. He seemed to get more flustered as the miscommunication continued. “N-No! I want to know you better!” He confessed his voice deflating as he realized how much he’s messing up this simple interaction.

Imagine if he were to ask you out on a date.

“Oh…” Flustered by his answer, you try recounting anyone who wanted to know you more after spending time with you. It’s depressing trying to think the last time it actually was. “Yeah sure…” You mumbled out not knowing what to do with your obvious expression now. He seemed to perk up as he looked up to your face, happy that his failing attempt actually succeeded.

“We can exchange emails!” You didn’t want to ruin his excitement as you realized the man in front of you just isn’t that tech-savvy like the rest of the team. Apparently exchanging numbers is out of the question. Giving him your personal email address he quickly wrote it down stuffing it in his pocket his face radiating with a smile. Is it because of you he’s smiling like that?

“O-Oh also!” Barely remembering he pointed at the room across from you guys where his team was packing up following suit. “Derek wants to apologize to you.” He said as your eyes moved away from his team to your fingers. You knew he wanted to apologize, as you avoided him every turn. But his words stung, and as you slept after the case officially being marked as solved, his words refused to leave your mind. “Just tell him it’s forgiven.” You said half-heartedly as you opened the croissant that Reid gave you moments ago.

“You don’t have to accept his apology Y/N, you’re allowed to be hurt by what he said. I-if it gives you reassurance I wouldn’t forgive him either.” He said positively with that cute tight-lipped smile you’ve seen him do.

Cute?

Coughing into your arm you motioned to Reid you were ok as you collected your thoughts in return. “Thank you, but I’m just not ready. There’s no bad blood, I just don’t want to talk to him.” You finalize trying to move on from this topic. “You ready?” Looking up you both saw Hotch in the doorway peeking half of his body through. Simultaneously had let out a yes, quickly looking at each other with slight surprise. You haven’t been together for too long you can’t already be saying stuff at the same time as one another. “I got your prescription that you asked for.” Thanking him you grabbed the prescription stuffing it in your bag.

“If you want you can ride with Reid and we’ll meet you at the plane.” Hotch offered as he stepped out of the room quickly probably to notify his team. You glanced at Spencer as he stood there with a confused furrow of his brow as his eyes followed Hotch. After a few long seconds you let out a cough finally bringing his attention back to you. “Is that ok with you?”

“You’re coming with us?” Confused by his confusion it seemed like you guys were going in circles. “I mean yeah? Did you think I live in LA?” You asked finally understanding why this back and forth was happening. He really thought he wasn’t going to see you again. Is that why he’s doing this awkward attempt of friendship? “If I’m being honest yeah. I really thought you did.”

“That hurts more than I thought.” You joked as he let out a small chuckle, glad that you brought the conversation back in a happier tone. “Do you want to join me? Derek lost a bet so now I can drive the car for a couple of months.” He said giddy with the reminder of how badly Derek lost a bet with him, even though he should know by now there’s no point in playing against him.

“Just us?”

“Just us.”

-

“This is your desk?” You ask even though the pile of books and the half-done chess board is enough indication that it’s his. “Yeah sorry it’s just a little…” Rushing over he carefully grabbed his books putting them in his drawers, tidying it up nicely. Trying to fix the general appearance of his desk that made him, him. “My apartment is probably a lot worse.” You comforted letting him continue doing what he needed to do apparently.

“Um here!” Motioning to his office chair he nudged it closer to you, as you gratefully accepted it letting yourself sit on it. “Do you want a coffee?”

“Do you want me to go get us some?” You offered which he immediately rejected, pointing at their little break area. “Don’t worry I can make it for us real quick.” Not waiting for you response he made his way to the coffee machine, waiting for him awkwardly at his desk. You came to drop off the necessary paperwork to finalize the case you worked on, hoping you can put this behind you. “Oh hi!” Looking up you see the woman who had your back somewhat when the whole fiasco went down. “Prentiss right?” You asked being horrible at names and faces. Never really sticking unless you care about them to a certain extent.

“Yes it is! And Y/N? Thank you for helping us on this one. I would’ve missed my paid vacation.” She said thankful that everyone was able to get back home safely and quickly. Nodding your head at her you didn’t know what else to say as she stood there as well. “And if you ever need anything - let us know. I know we’re not close, but if you ever need something-.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You cut her off knowing the spill some people do. You were thankful for her offer, but an offer that isn’t something you’re willing to take. Giving you a slight nod she walked to her bag before quickly leaving. Just in time Spencer had walked up with two steaming cups in his hand. His head turning back to you as he was following Emily’s retreating figure. “Did she want something?” You shake your head as you gratefully grabbed the hot coffee placing it right beside you. Pulling up a chair beside you he scooted in making sure he gave you appropriate space. “Do you play a lot?” You ask looking over at the chess match that was happening. You understood the general rules and play. But it just wasn’t something you would invest your time into.

“Yeah I used to play with Gideon? I’ve heard you were close.” He felt like he had to be careful when bringing up that name. His name still bringing a sense of hurt in his chest as he remembered the times he would help Reid build up his skills.

“I feel like close isn’t the right word.” You correct remembering the time spent with Gideon. You memory refreshing whenever he mentioned the genius in his team when he would be at your apartment molding you.

“Then what do you call it?” He asked feeling more confident considering you haven’t turned him away just yet. Taking a careful sip from the cup you felt it burn your lips as you winced. This is why you settle with ice lattes most of the time. “He allowed me to see something nobody else wouldn’t.” He knew whenever interacting with you, confusion would come along with it.

“I don’t want to talk about it though.” You quickly add knowing that Reid would get more curious but you just weren’t ready. Not yet.

“Oh of course…” He understood not wanting to push you in any farther. “Do you want to play? I can show you a little bit?”

“Do you often play at work?” Somehow Reid made you feel comfortable in such a strict up-tight place. It’s the BAU for crying out loud being surrounded by other agents. One wrong move and you might as well be demoted. Even if you don’t actually hold a position here. “When I need a breather.” He replied fixing the board between you two. Fixing the pieces you looked over the board. He gave you the white pieces.

With a careful hand you moved your pawn giving Spencer a small smile, letting you feel as normal as you could.

-

It was weird ‘emailing’ someone instead of simply texting. To the point where you’ve been close to asking him for his number. But even though there were shared pictures attached to the emails showing one another each other’s lives, it felt too intimate. The time to ask for his number had already passed.

You had just gotten a photo of his plant that Penelope had given him. It’s looking a little dry making you pity the poor plant. Naming it Spencer 2.0 showing his very loving parenting side. Sending him back of your cat, she was making biscuits on your lap.

It would be nice to see her

The thought made a small smile break out as you let your phone fall against your lips slowly. It’s a weird feeling he gives you. Imagining him interact with your man hating cat, allowed a chuckle escape from your lips. You know it would be a one-sided love but a love regardless. He seemed to enjoy your cat more and more with the pictures being sent his way.

You should come over with Spencer 2.0

His heart quickened as he read your words over and over again. Words etched into his mind enhancing his nervousness. Did you really want him to come over? Or was it just playful banter.

He truly wouldn’t mind going over.

For question purposes obviously.

-

Rubbing your eyes you left Hotch’s office in a terrible mood. The headache continued as you gripped onto the papers he gave you tighter.

“You emptied your clip. That brings up concern.”

His words confirmed the uncertainty of your own mind.

Reading the general report and the coroner’s report it confirmed his words rather than your own mind.

It was practically overkill. And you did that with your own hands.

Yelping as when you looked down at your hands the bloodied mess from a month ago appeared. “Y/N?” Looking up you see Reid’s team staring at you concerned as you realized the paper’s scattered the floor. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled quickly picking up the mess of papers not caring the order. Hearing some rustling in front of you, you see the person helping you.

“Are you ok?” Sighing you look him dead in the eyes, the most you have even given him since the case had ended. “Morgan I’m fine. You don’t need to help me.” Grabbing the papers from him you stuffed them in the file Hotch had given you. “I know just checking up on you. I know it’s not easy shooting-.”

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off as you looked between him and Reid who was now watching the interaction between you two. “I heard it was your first time shooting an Unsub. It’s hard for everyone.” He explained, leaving you disoriented. You can’t deal with this. You don’t want to deal with this.

“I can’t believe…” You couldn’t believe Reid was telling his team. You know you didn’t tell him it was supposed to be some secret. But you would think he would understand privacy. Obviously you were wrong. Scoffing you push past Morgan as you bee-lined to the elevators. Wanting what you can call home.

“Y/N!” Jogging up to you as your foot tapped impatiently for the elevator you continued staring ahead. The reflection of you two making sure you saw it either way. “What do you want?” You ask not wanting to talk to him. To anyone.

“It seemed like something happened between you two so I wanted to check up on you.”

“So you can tell him?”

“W-what? What are you talking about.” It was unfair. Blaming him it was so unfair. So as the elevator door dinged and opened infront of you, you quickly walked in. It was better to keep your mouth shut and not ruin what you have with Reid. And you wanted something so desperately. An understanding between you two.

Nothing you wanted more.

So the best you can do is leave him there with a distressed expression as your eyes linger on the dirty elevator floor.

-

It took you longer than you rather admit to reach out to Reid again.

And if you were to ask him he would know it’s been 2 months, three days, and 8 hours with 26 minutes since he last interacted with you.

He wanted to give you space.

But he wished he hadn’t.

He saw you from afar as you sat on the park bench. You looked exhausted, frazzled, on edge. How much happened?

Walking up to you, you seemed to be in your own world again. It’s like seeing a mirror of himself, a scarier version of himself in a way. “Y/N?” Catching your attention you finally acknowledged his presence, giving him a timid smile. Passing him the cup that was sitting next you, the warmth enveloped his hands. “Put a bunch of sugar.” You say quietly as you sip the replica of your drink.

“And I got us tickets.” You show him 2 physical tickets as he saw a glimpse of the title. “Slashers?” He asked skeptical about the movie topic they were going to watch.

“Horror movies don’t really scare me. I like watching it for the makeup and effects.” He wouldn’t mind if this was a normal thing between friends. But he doesn’t want to let it go. But he doesn’t want to ruin the normalcy you’re trying to have between you two. “Why did you reach out?” He finally asked. You weren’t surprised he wanted to know. It wasn’t fair to him.

“I want to get to know you more. But I’m scared.” You confess as the sleepless nights wouldn’t go away. The nights of tossing sleep evident in your eyebags. Terrified of everything. Terrified of your mind, and it not allowing you to relish in the friendship you wanted with Spencer.

“About?” He asked.

“You no longer wanting to be around me, when you find out how shitty my mind is.” You admit. “I want to tell you everything because I feel like you can understand. But I don’t want to drag you down with me.” You were screwed from the start, you accepted your fate. Gideon came around and gave you help but took it just as quickly.

But with Reid you swear. It’s something so complicated for a mind like yours you want to find out why that is. But you’re scared of what you’re going to see. And if Reid will see the same as you. “Y/N I mean this in the nicest way possible. But I’m a grown man, I can decide who I’m friends with and-.” Taking a deep breath he made sure you were looking at him as your eyes seemed teary with sleep and sadness.

“And I want to be friends with you. I want to know you. I want to do things with you. And if you can, let me do those things. I want you to confide in me, and I want to do the same. So I can tell you when it’s too much. Just have faith in me.” He professed.

His words did help, but that fear that was etched into you for years doesn’t just go away. But seeing Spencer being the only person willing to indulge in your wants made you smile. You don’t want to have hope.

It’s hard though.

Hope is an infectious thing.

TAGLIST

@maisyyyyyy

@britbratface

@khxna

@geepinky

[nahoney22]

Heyyyyy love, I absolutely love everything you write. I have an itty bitty request!

Would you be able to write a cute fluffy fic with a plus sized female reader with tech with just a touch of spice to it?

You could also make it fun and do one for all the batch members?

Please and thank you if you can!! 🥰🥰

*fun fact - I made that tech edit many moons ago so I’m happy to see it still be used! 🥰🥹*

Embracing the Curves***

All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader

warnings: Mild NSFW, suggestive themes, plus sized female reader, confident reader (we’re all beautiful plus size or not!), mentions of a busty reader in some parts. Tech and Hunters parts are with an established relationship, others are not.

Authors note: decided to do small one shots for each of them in this post, write more for Tech and Echo because… it’s them ♥️ hope that’s okay with you @clonehoe- sorry for the wait !!!

Masterlist

Tech

Tech was watching you work with great interest, proud of the progress you had made in learning all the tips and tricks necessary for ship repairs. As he observed you beneath the control panel, clad in a snug tank top and form-fitting black pants that accentuated your every curve, he couldn't help but feel his heart rate skyrocket.

"Has the light come on yet?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the spanner between your teeth as you glanced up at him for assistance. The ship was scorching hot and it didn’t help that you were settled on a planet that had two suns to add to the heat. The heat system has always been faulty and despite you telling Tech you wanted to focus on fixing that, he was set in you fixing the hyperdrive first.

"Not yet. Try rotating the wiring counterclockwise. That should do the trick," he replied, his voice strained as he watched you work under his guidance. "There it is..." he murmured, his gaze darting to the lights above the control panel as you worked to fix the hyperdrive. "Good girl," he added, his endearment causing a flurry of excitement in your stomach.

Despite the nickname making you momentarily lose your concentration and hit your head against the side of the panel, you managed to remain focused on the task at hand. "Is it working now?" you asked, seeking confirmation with a smile as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Yes, I have to say, I'm very impressed with your skills," he said, helping you out from under the control panel until you plopped down in a nearby seat to catch your breath.

"Yeah?" you asked, seeking reassurance.

"Absolutely," he replied, though his eyes were preoccupied with the alluring contours of your physique. "Perfect," he added, struggling to meet your gaze.

You couldn't help but smirk as you watched Tech struggle to keep his composure under your teasing gaze. Folding your arms over your chest, you subtly pushed your bust up to enhance your assets, causing Tech to wipe the steam that had suddenly formed on his goggles.

"Anything in particular that you're impressed with?" you asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"W-well, it's hard not to be entranced by you looking the way you do while working under my command," he stammered, sitting up straight and tucking away his data pad. "I've adored your appearance since the first day we met, and seeing you all - forgive me - sweaty and wearing tight clothes is quite a fever dream," he added, his words causing a blush to rise on his cheeks.

You stood up slowly and took a couple of steps towards Tech, tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "That's very sweet of you to say, Tech," you replied, your voice dripping with false innocence and a hint of teasing. "I am feeling a little sweaty though. Perhaps a shower would cool me down," you hinted, hoping he would pick up on your not-so-subtle suggestion.

Tech stood up abruptly, his hands flying to your waist and his fingers digging into your fleshy skin. "Perhaps since you helped me repair my ship, I could help you get freshened up," he offered, his lips trailing down your neck and over your chest despite the sweat that covered your skin.

"Eager, are we?" you asked, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and suppressing a sweet sigh.

"Very much so," Tech groaned, holding you as close as possible. The two of you were rarely alone on the overcrowded ship, and with his brothers gone on a mission, Tech wasn't about to waste the opportunity to map out your whole body with his tongue.

Echo

"Trooper, what appears to be the issue?" Your entrance into the medbay had Echo stunned, his eyes locked onto your stunning, curvaceous figure and beautiful eyes.

He found himself gaping, struggling to find his words as he wished he had accepted help from the medical droid instead of being left in this state of awe.

"Trooper?"

Apologising for his silence, Echo managed to inform you of his injury to his femur that he sustained during a mission that had left him more grumpy than usual but your soft smile and calm presence helped to ease his nerves. Though, he was a little preoccupied on how your uniform was snug but not to the point it looked bad. It look really good.

He always took himself for a gentleman but as he gapes at you with hungry eyes, it was hard not to get enthralled by you.

You sat down next to him with a datapad, ready to take notes. "Can you tell me how this happened?" you asked with a soft smile.

Echo explained that he sustained the injury during a mission when heavy debris fell on him. You expressed sympathy and asked, "Are you in any pain, sweetie?" You were surprised by the endearment that slipped out of your mouth, although neither of you mentioned it. Then again, you did think he was much cuter than any other clone he had seen.

"Just a little, not as much as before," Echo replies steadily, hoping his blushing cheeks aren't too noticeable.

"I see. Have you been taking any medication for it?"

“No ma’am,”

You nod in understanding and stand to your feet again, placing your device to the side and slide on a pair of gloves. “Do I have permission to touch your leg to feel for any breaks?”

“Yes please.”

You both blink at one another and the quick realisation of what Echo just said sunk in fast but, you were blushing which was a good sign… wasn’t it?

“I mean, uh, do what you have to do ma’am.” He clears his throat, keeping his eyes diverted away from you but you could only smile at him in return and proceed to gently caress his thigh.

“Does it hurt here?” You ask, adding gentle pressure.

“No,” He says through gritted teeth, absolutely loving the touch of your hands on him - even if you were a stranger and even if it was simply your job.

“And here?” You ask again, applying pressure to a different area and as he winced in pain, your question was answered.

After a few more assessments, you highlighted that his femur isn’t fractured, only bruised and should heal naturally on its own. As you give the diagnosis, it went through one ear and out the other because again, his eyes being to wander and land on your hips as you turn away but caught him looking as you turn back to him.

You place your hands to your hips and smirk, “See something you like, Trooper?”

Echo’s eyes widened and he mumbled a thousand apologies at once, stumbling off the bed and thanking you for the help. You had a inkling that you may be seeing him again sometime. Well, you hoped so.

Hunter

Watching you work out was one of Hunter's favourite pastimes. The day was sweltering, and you naturally dressed in less clothing than usual for your workouts.

"Can I join you?" Hunter approaches you with a grin, sporting nothing but shorts that accentuated his tanned and toned body in the sunlight.

Finding yourself gaping in awe at his body too, you can only smirk back, slipping into a fighting stance and recalling every technique that Hunter had taught you. "How could I say no to you?" You ask and as you move, sweat drips from your body, enhancing your already alluring figure and heightening Hunter's senses.

"Good form," he compliments, stepping closer to you. His tone hints at his admiration for not only your workout performance but also your physique.

"Oh really?" You turn your head to glance at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why don't you demonstrate some other stances for me?"

Hunter relishes in the playful tone of your voice and steps up behind you, placing his hands tenderly on your hips, which he always yearns to touch. "Angle your body to the left and add a bounce to your knees," he instructs, guiding you through the movement. Though he knows you are capable of executing the exercise on your own, he can't resist the opportunity to have his hands on you.

You follow his directions but find yourself a little distracted by his touch. Even with his heightened senses, it feels as though Hunter is transferring his energy to you as his fingers caress the curves of your hips, trailing down to your thighs and back up to your arse, sending shivers down your spine. “Hunter…” you find yourself moaning his name, earning a low chuckle.

“Don’t get distracted by me,” he breathes down the nape of your neck but with his bare torso against your back and his hands roaming your body, it was so hard not to.

Wrecker

Wrecker had always admired your body, but it was your thighs that truly captivated him. At first, he was drawn in by your beauty, and it took some time for him to realize the full extent of his fascination. It wasn't until he saw you wearing shorts to bed one night that he truly understood the power of your curvy legs.

Now, as you lay on your cot reading a holobook, legs propped up in the air, Wrecker found himself once again unable to tear his gaze away from your thighs. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice you watching him until you decide to speak up.

"May I make you an offer, Wrecker?" You asked, and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. He cleared his throat and tried to act casual as he responded.

"Sure, what is it?"

"If you promise to stop staring at my legs all the time, I'll let you come over and give them a massage," you smirk, lowering your holobook to look him in the eye. Wrecker felt his face flush with embarrassment. Had it been so obvious that he couldn't take his eyes off you?

He started to stammer out an apology, but you cut him off with a wave of her hand and a soft smile.

"I don't mind," you say, sitting up until you’re sitting on your legs and teasingly entice him over by beckoning him with your finger. “I like to think they’re my best assets,” you comment, patting your legs that made them subtly jiggle which almost made him drop his helmet he was cleaning.

“Well, they are pretty.” He stands and comes closer until he sits on the edge of your bed watching you shift from your current position to you sat with them laid out. “Did ya mean your offer?” He asks, fingers twitching to reach out and touch your skin.

“I did,” you smirk, “go ahead.”

His hands come down to your thighs, large and rough yet gentle as he caresses your skin. He watches you for your reaction and as you tilt your head back and sigh in satisfaction, he knew he made the right choice in accepting your offer.

Crosshair

Crosshair watched as you struggled to hit the bottles he had set up as targets. He shook his head in disapproval and clicked his tongue, his new found admiration for you mingling with his frustration at your poor performance. But, he couldn’t help but also admire the view of you.

"You're doing it all wrong," he chided from the sidelines. To which, you let out a heavy sigh and nearly threw the rifle to the ground in frustration.

"I'm standing exactly where you told me to," you huffed, earning an eye roll from Crosshair. He approaches you, a small smirk on his lips as he positioned himself behind you.

"No, you're not," he teased, but he softened his tone as he sensed your frustration growing. "Stand here," he instructed, pointing to a spot next to him.

Reluctantly, you obeyed, standing close to him as he instructed you to raise the rifle and relax your shoulders. Crosshair watched you with his sharp eyes, feeling a sense of power as he towered over you.

"Okay, now what?" You asked, breath steady as you glanced back at him. You couldn't help but feel weak in the knees whenever he looked at you like that. He always had a hold over you, and him being so close to you now didn't help.

"Don't look at me, look at the target," he commanded. His voice, which usually dripped with venom, was surprisingly soft and alluring.

Turning away, you let out a small and surprised gasp as his hands come to your waist but to your surprise, he let out a small gasp himself.

“Wow princess,” he cooed, his fingers melting against the curve of your body, “I always knew you had a beautiful body but to touch it… stunning.” He breathes down your neck.

Your eyes widened at his words but you succumbed quickly to his touch, your back pressed against his chest as his hands begin to roam your body. “Y-you like my body?” You question with a hint of insecurity but your question is answered as he finally places his lips to your neck.

“I love,” he sighs, caressing your body from over your clothes, “every inch.”

You end up dropping his weapon eventually, it clanging to the floor with a thud and as you go to apologise, he spins you to face him, close and dominant. “Screw it,” he grunts, devouring your lips with his own.

That was enough teaching for one day…

Masterlist

My Kofi

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @erellenora

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Which of your dogs do you think is the best faceclaim for Cranberry? Lol

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (moar doggo)

So I based her entirely off Cassy, EXCEPT in my brain because she lives in California, Cranberry doesn't have snow nose. If you'll notice, Cassy's nose has lost colouring. This is a normal condition in Goldens where the blood vessels retreat due to the cold. Cranberry's nose would remain black.

63 for Cranberry!:

---

“I killed Cranberry!” He sobs into his hands. “She’s going to die and you’re going to hate me forever!”

Buck’s heart cracks right there inside his chest. He rests a hand on Christopher’s back and starts rubbing big, soothing circles. 

“That’s not going to happen,” he promises. “I don’t think Cranberry is going to die. But, e-even if she did, Christopher, I wouldn’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“You’re mad at me!” 

Buck considers how to respond to this. He is obviously mad. There’s no point denying that, is there?

“Yeah. I am angry with you,” Buck admits. “I’m angry you’d give Cranberry medicine without asking me first, or open the medicine at all. That’s dangerous. But just because I’m mad, doesn’t mean I hate you.”

Chris looks up a little, not totally meeting Buck’s eyes, but not hiding, either. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wanted to make her feel better.”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt her,” Buck says. “But it can’t happen again, okay?”

“It won’t,” Chris promises. “I promise, Buck. I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry,” Buck says. “I forgive you, Chris.”

“You do?”

“‘Course I do.” Buck tells him. “Listen, Chris… I know I’m not your dad. And we’ve had to adjust a lot living together these past months. But I love you, kiddo. No matter what, even if we make mistakes or get angry with each other.”

Chris twists and throws his arms around Buck. The action takes him by surprise. Buck returns the hug, squeezing Chris softly.

“It’s okay, bud,” Buck says, still rubbing his back. 

“I love you, too, Buck,” Chris mumbles. 

Not even half an hour later, the vet tech brings Cranberry back out. This time, Chris comes out of the car to hear the verdict. 

“She’s going to be just fine,” the vet tech says. “We induced vomiting, gave some IV fluids to flush her system, and we think we’ve avoided any major concerns.”

“Thank you so much,” Buck exhales. The relief is so palpable he feels his legs shaking. “Seriously, thank you!”

“No more Tylenol, okay boys?” The vet tech points a stern look in Chris’ direction. 

“I promise,” Chris mutters sheepishly. 

“Let’s get her home,” Buck says, lifting Cranberry. 

He is more than ready to put this whole thing behind them. 

🦮🦮🦮

He obviously has to tell Eddie. He doesn’t want to narc on Chris, but it’s not the sort of incident to let slide. 

“He already feels bad enough, though, and we already talked,” Buck tells Eddie over FaceTime later that night. “So I don’t think he needs a proper punishment or anything.”

“Jesus, Buck. I am so sorry.” Eddie rubs his temples. “How much did the vet trip cost? I’ll send you the money, okay?” 

“Eddie, no. Come on. I’m not going to make you do that.”