#John is barely mentioned so he doesn't get tagged sorry!

[ghostthejester]

It's time for me to tell y'all more about my headcannons about the Cog Bosses >: )

Craig Edgar Oilcan - Trans, closeted bisexual. He will buy you legit anything you want if you're in his partner (can be platonic if you want) Like I said in a previous post, you'll hear a LOUD engine inside him if you press your ear against his chest/stomach. But why is that? He got himself an upgrade to have a bigger and more powerful engine so he'd have more energy for golfing, BUT he didn't bother getting extra coolant so he get's overheated quite easily, especially when flustered or angry. Which... is his entire existence, he's kinda always angry. And if you were curious, he's undergone full gender reassignment, both top and bottom surgery. Also, I must say, he's cool with wearing dresses if it'll make him look good. Anything that flatters him, or makes him look better, he's okay with. But calling him she/her? BIG No no!

Allan Bravecog - Pansexual, Intersex, He/Him or She/Her, loves baking (especially for Chris and Cathal). Oh, and he's married to Chris' as well. Changed him to be a bit more soft actually, it's very cute! Met Chris during high school, and they both got together after college when Chris got a stable job (one he's already quit to become the CFO we all know and love) Allan has a dislike for Craig, but then again, everyone does. Allan is slightly blind in his right eye, and needed to wear contacts since he was 14. Gossips with his employees and occasionally Chris about drama happening in the 5 departments. And two words... Family man!!! Big fun :3

Chris P. Dolair - Bisexual and polyamorous, He/Him, married to Allan! Allan turned him into the softest guy he knows, y'know, he used to wilt the flowers. Now, he makes them grow with Allan by his side! He was sour, he was mean, Toons and Cogs would cry when they looked at him. But... that all changed, at least when he's around his wonderful husband/wife. Really focused on work, but can make time for Allan when he needs to. Smokes, a lot. Thinks Craig was dumb to not get extra coolant when he got that engine upgrade, which is fair. Chris plays golf with Allan and Craig occasionally. Chris knew Craig in college, they used to work on projects together ! Chris just goes along with what Allan plans for the group.

(P.S. These 3 are in a polycule)

Diane Morsecode - Aromantic, Asexual. She/Them. Never had much of an attraction to anyone, and is the only one to have not known the other executives before getting their now-jobs. Diane went to a private school, and a prestigious college. Legit the most normal one. Also one of the smartest, she used to be a college professor before she quit to work at a law firm. And then when that law firm went bankrupt, she got their job as CLO at C.O.G.S. Inc! Sketches the other Cog bosses sometimes, she's surprisingly good at art. Sick of the other Cog Bosses being stupid, but they're still doing their jobs and she doesn't want to meddle with their lives. Their parents and them are on bad terms, and don't really communicate much, if at all.

And if you want my headcannons for John, uhhhhhhhh he used to date Craig during high school yeah, that's mostly it for him.

Sorry if these headcannons are bad, my brain is melting from insomnia :(

[ravengards-rogue]

lucky bastard

john marston x fem!reader

✧ tags : afab + fem!reader, gendered language, established relationship, outdoor sex, lots of dirty talk, john being an idiot, mentions of sex work, all of this is very consensual reader is just shy. 18+

✧ wc : 1k

✧ a/n : this guy makes me insane against my will. everyday of my life.

✧ synopsis : john is full of bad ideas.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

"John Marston," Your voice is stern, harsh as you whisper. Both hands on his shoulders pushing yourself from the grasp he keeps you in so tightly. "Get the hell—"

"Don't be that way angel." His words are sweet but his voice is filled to the brim with snark. Edge to edge. "What? You too good for fuckin' in the woods now? Too much of a lady?"

You smack his shoulder. His response is to keep you exactly where you are - which is in his lap on an open trail, later at night. No blankets, bottoms discarded in a heap besides you since John insisted on getting you skin to skin.

You're not fucking in the woods, you're fucking just outside of them - a place to camp near the trees in the Grizzlies East - near Moonstone Pond.

You're right besides the trail, right where any down and out bastard could trot their horse through and get a clear shot of what's going on. There's better places to do this. Deeper in the trees where there's no chance of of somebody finding you both, for one.

But John seems excited at the idea of getting caught. And when John gets in one these moods, there's no reasoning with him. He gets caught up in his wants as always, foolhardy and crass. Though you mind it less than you're honest about.

His hands find your hips, blunt nails grasping at you for life as he moves you. Doesn't move himself, but rather - moves you, slides you up and down on the hard length of his cock with a smile just short of smug and just past mesmerized.

In the dead of night, it's easy to hear how he makes you feel. What he does to you. The wet lazy sound of thrusts of his dick in you drown all noise of the lonesome evening. You wrap yourself around him in a fit of desperation, hitting your fists weakly on his back. He laughs in the way he always does, presses a kiss to the parts of you he can reach while you throw a fit.

"You're such a rotten, no good, irritating bastard, Marston."

"And you just can't stay away from me, can you sweetheart?" He holds you in place while you bottom out and you can feel him swell when you say it. You almost want to sneer. "It ain't like you to play coy."

"I'm not playing anything. Someone's gonna come out here and see and—"

"And what? Some poor bastards gonna ride through here and see you split open on me and wish he was me? You feel sorry for him? I sure don't."

Your voice catches at the sudden change. The change in pace, the change in tone, the change in demeanor. His hands grip you tighter and he flips you until you're laying in the grass on your back. His dick kisses your cervix at the new angle, legs wrapped around his waist and blinking in surprise from where he looks down on you. More scar than man, all sharp lines and dark hair barely failing away from his face.

He leans down that time. You think to kiss you but instead he hikes you up until your spine arches so slightly and he thrusts that way. Fucks his cock so deep into you, it feels like all the airs been punched out of your lungs. It's more invasive than it's been all night, bigger and thicker - makes it feel like your cunt is being pulled open. The tip dragging on your insides, sticky and sensitive on each motion.

You gasp his name out, hands find his hair - tugging just to have something to hold. "John,"

"In fact, if anything - we're doing 'em a favor. Only time they see a woman at all is when they're paying for her. They could only be so lucky seeing a woman as beautiful as you feeling so good for me for free."

You make a whimpering noise and swallow it down. John laughs, scruff against your shoulder. His teeth tug at your ear lobe as he positions you - hand sliding between your bodies as his thumb finds your clit.

"I'd put a bullet clean between their eyes before they touch you, you know that? But I'm a decent man so," He laughs breathless. "A look is all they're gonna get. Charity, ain't it? In a way.''

You make a face at him, disarmed - weak, purely and plainly in a way that makes his laugh go from smug to charmed, affectionate. He kisses you on the lips that time. Corner of your mouth, your chin and cheek and shoulder. His arm cradling you easy in his grasp as you keep your legs up for him to fuck you.

Fire runs through your nerves as all the sensations settle in at once. The pleasure of having your clit rubbed even clumsily is enough to make you whine out in pleasure, especially in pace with being fucked so hard again and again. Something turns in your belly, honeyed - hot, like pouring sugar over a flame. You feel the warm iron of your own want be shaped by John with every consequential knock and thrust.

You breathe out as his attitude slows to merciful. He gets like this when you get close - gets all softhearted and gentle even as he's fucking you senseless.

You sniffle. "You're such a bastard, Marston."

"Don't I know it," He hums, easy and keeps going. "Getting close for me, angel? Gonna make me a nice little mess to clean up?"

"Shut up,"

He chuckles. "C'mon. You gonna let go for me?"

You swear. "Y-yeah."

"Good girl," He praises. You can't even pretend not to keen when he says it. "Go on then. Show me. Let me see,"

With another unceremonious thrust, you unravel in John's arms like the threaded frayed ends of a piece of twine. Pulled apart, you cum on his cock hard - a tingling sensation spreading through your whole body as your back curls up. Your legs force John to stay bottomed out as you shudder. The overwhelming pleasure doesn't seem to end.

You only breathe after a few minutes. John coaxes some comfort from you with a kiss to your collarbone.

"Still mad at me?"

You roll your eyes and smack his head lightly. "Shut up, Marston."

"Shut up ain't much of an answer." He says, pretending to sigh. "Guess I'll have to make you go one more to earn that forgiveness huh?"

Your lips quirk. Idiot. "Guess we'll just have to see."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[okieedokes]

girl worth writing to | john egan x f!reader

summary : john pays you a visit while he’s on leave and things get melodramatic lol

warnings : brief mention of suicide, doesn't exactly follow the events of the show

word count : 888

The vibration of gentle snores rouse you from your sleep, your eyes search for the clock ticking away on your nightstand.

5:04 am

The sun had barely risen yet and you cursed yourself for being such a light sleeper, knowing the day you had ahead of you. However, the sight of shirtless John Egan dozing peacefully beside you was certainly one for sore eyes. You lifted a hand to his disheveled curls and attempted to stroke them back into place, whilst your mind replayed the events of the night before…

5:34 pm

You had just returned to your flat from another agonising day at the infirmary, to the incessant ring of the telephone. You are hesitant to answer, as you are sure it’s your head nurse, calling to inform you there’s been another emergency and you would need to return.

With a deep breath you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed and retrieve the telephone.

“Hello?…” You had meant to use a more formal introduction but simply couldn’t find the strength.

“Y/N?! It’s me, Bucky! You remember?” He teased.

You had half the mind to pretend you had forgotten the pilot after not hearing a word from him in almost six months.

“Unfortunately, I do remember.” You mask your tone with sarcasm.

“Atta girl!” He remarked and you found yourself repressing a smile as you imagined the cheeky grin on his face.

“I just completed my twenty-fifth mission today and it was frankly very nearly my last, so they’re graciously giving me the weekends leave!” He boasts sarcastically and you suppress a giggle.

“Lucky Buck!” You retort and hear him scoff.

“Anyways, I was thinking I’d come pay you and London a visit…that’s if you’d have me, of course.”

You take a pause, pretending you have a choice. Unfortunately the truth of the matter was that you’d take the Major in, always and forever no-matter the heartache, come his departure.

“Do you still remember the address?” You asked, placing a hand to your stomach in an attempt to ease the brewing butterflies.

“I couldn’t forget if I tried sweetheart, I’ll see you soon enough.” He teased playfully and ended the call.

You sighed at the realisation that you would have to spend all evening making your tired self presentable for the pilot, knowing deep down that for John it would always be worth it.

5:36 am

You jump at the feeling of his large hand wrap around your wrist that was still embedded in his hair. You feel your cheeks grow bright red as you push your body towards the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean you scare ya.” He croaks in his deep morning voice that never fails to make your knees weak.

“That’s okay! I need to get ready for my shift anyways.” You stutter wrapping yourself in the bedsheet as you crawl out of bed.

“Y/N please…” Bucky groans and grasps at the sheet that is now tightly wound around your shivering frame.

“You always do this…it’s too early and it’s bloody freezing.” He pleads and gently pulls you back into the bed and his embrace, gently guiding your into head to the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry I scared you…twenty-five missions…it’s starting to get to me now, I think.” He admits whilst stroking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I can only imagine the horrors you boys have endured…” You whisper.

“You would probably understand more than most Y/N…what with the hospital and all the bombings.” He adds, his tone soft and comforting as he continues to stroke your hair. This is not the witty and sarcastic John you were familiar with.

“I suppose you could say that.” You mumble as you fidget with the dog tag that hangs around his neck, a cruel reminder.

“I guess it doesn’t help that I have this American pilot of mine who when I’m sure has gone and died on me-”You attempt a teasing tone but it falls flat.

“What’s all this about me being a goner? Don’t you have any faith Y/N?” He interjects, his tone only half joking.

“Well you never write or call? What am I supposed to think?!” You feel anger boiling in your chest as you push yourself away from him.

“Or maybe I’m just not worth writing to!” You accuse before John had time to even consider a response to your sudden outburst.

“I promise it’s nothing like that Y/N… you know how I feel about you. Christ! I wouldn’t be using my weekend off like this if I didn’t have feelings for you!” He scrambles to defuse the situation, knowing your spirited ways.

“Oh really?!” You mock.

“Y/N these missions, they’re suicide! I couldn’t never let you get involved with me now! It would be cruel!” His statement cuts the conversation like a knife, silence falling over the entire flat.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you stifle a sob.

“I-I’m sorry John…but I think I’m already…involved.” You stutter.

The pilot sighs, using the bedsheet gathered around your waist to pull you back down into the mattress, so now you are pinned underneath him. There's nowhere to hide.

“If you only knew how many times I’ve heard your voice in my head or seen your face in a crowd…” He whispers whilst gently placing a kiss to each of your tear soaked cheeks.

“You’re my girl…I’m sorry I ever made your feel like you weren't worth writing to.” His tone is soft but sincere.

Without looking away, he reaches for a scrap of paper that was resting atop your bedside table.

“In fact I’ll start right now…My dearest Y/N…” He declares in a exaggerated british accent and you playful slap his shoulder, giving him permission to attack you with kisses again.

When he finally pulls away your eyes meet and you raise a hand to his cheek.

“Come back to me, Major Egan.” The words tumble out before you even able to acknowledge they are there.

“Always.” He whispers, before burying is head in your chest. It wasn't long before you feel his soft snores radiating against your body again.

[thedeviltohisangel]

“Are you actually blushing?” “No! Shut up.” & “awww did I flustered you?” For Cass/Bucky please

BLUSHING PROMPT ERA

when you all aren't requesting pow camp angst, you all want more of cass and the egan family. my gift to my few fluff lovers.

Penelope's wails had quieted to tired little whimpers as John paced around the backyard of his childhood home. Her and her brother had been perfectly well behaved on the flight from Virginia to Wisconsin but while Gale had fallen asleep during his bedtime bottle, Penny had decided to test the capacity of her lungs in the midwestern air.

"It's okay, my sweet girl. I know you've had a long day. You must be so tired," John cooed to his baby daughter as he bounced her gently. Her teary eyes were looking up at the stars as he pressed gentle kisses to the side of her head. He hoped Cass had fallen asleep. They both had been running on empty since they became parents three months ago.

"Coming out here always use to work when you were as little as her." John turned to see his mother standing in the doorway to the back of the house, watching her son and granddaughter with a smile on her face.

"Did she wake you? I'm sorry, ma, I tried to get her out here as quick as I could." His mother shook her head and reached for her granddaughter, John passing her off and collapsing into a lawn chair as she took over the calming, rocking movements he had been trying for what felt like hours.

Penelope looked at her grandmother with curiosity and slowly went silent as she grew comfortable in her arms. "How come you and my wife can just look at them and they stop crying but they make me work for it all night?"

"Maternal instinct, Johnny. Cassandra seems to be adjusting to motherhood quite well." John nodded as he took the sleeping baby back from his mother and held her against his chest.

"She's a natural. Barely blinked when the doctors said there was another one right behind Penny." John had been in the hallway raging at the medical staff that was trying to keep him from seeing his wife. His mother didn't need to know that part.

"And you? I remember that one summer you helped with a baseball team, you were so good with them."

"I think I'm getting the hang of it. The half of them they get from me is causing us the most problems but that is to be expected." His mother laughed and he let it wrap around him like a hug. "I never thought about a future that looked like this until I fell in love with her." John kissed the top of his daughter's head and pressed his finger into her little palm that was resting against his chest, her fingers curling around his and his heart skipping a beat.

"I'm glad. I was worried after the last time you were here." His mother hadn't mentioned their time in Wisconsin when she had come with his sisters to South Carolina for the wedding but that doesn't mean she hadn't thought about it.

"That was...we were in a dark place. I didn't mean for it to boil over here but I saw that photo and got that letter and..." He hugged his daughter tighter. He had stormed out of his parents house that night without his wedding band. With the intent of helping Cass book a one way trip to South Carolina to be rid of him and their marriage and the mess he was causing in her life. Had said a million things he regretted and had drank himself to oblivion at the local bar over the idea that he had finally fucked up enough to lose her.

"But now you've got these little blessings. And that absolutely wonderful little dog, John, he really is so handsome." Butter was probably on his half of the bed upstairs as they spoke, sleeping like a rock in Cass' arms. John hadn't even tried to fight bringing him on the trip and hadn't looked at the final cost of bringing a dog on the airplane. His wife assured him it was pennies for the joy it would bring her and the kids to have him tag along.

"Butter? He's trying to replace me."

"Well, I'm sure Cassandra appreciates that he doesn't talk back." John looked up at the sky and prayed for strength. Why did all the women in his life have to be against him?

-

"Oh, Cass, he's such a handsome little devil just look at him!" Gale giggled as one of his aunt's kissed his cheeks and tickled at his sides. "How on earth did he come from someone like my brother?"

"Your brother is plenty handsome," Cass offered with a smile as she adjusted Penny in her lap, the little girl chewing on the foot of one of the stuffed animals she had just been gifted.

"Don't tell me he makes you do all the work during the making part."

"Yeah, John, your wife deserves to be lavished more often than you do!" his other sister chimed in. He poked his head out from where he was preparing bottles in the kitchen.

"You have no clue how often I lavish my wife!"

"She could always use more." Butter barked in agreement.

"Are you actually blushing?" John asked with a smirk as he offered Cass one bottle and his sister the other.

"No! Shut up." It wasn't that Cass was some kind of prude when it came to talking about her sex life with John. She just didn't want his mother overhearing any conversations of baby making and lavishing.

"Did I fluster you, baby?" John nuzzled his nose into her neck to make her laugh as she lovingly looked on at Penelope eating her second breakfast.

"Just got me thinking about lavishing now is all."

"Yeah? You in need of some?" John said, his voice dropping an octave. She bit her bottom lip and nodded, leaning in to nip at his lips. "Fuck. Yeah, I think you need some real bad, baby."

He was never happier to have his sisters around to baby sit than he was on his knees in the backseat of his old car, his wife's legs over his shoulders and his face buried under her skirt.

[plasticfangtastic]

American royalty Ch. 11

A Homelander x F! reader/dadlander fic

A/N I really have no excuse for such delay but I hope y'all like this chapter, i'm really sorry for the delay, there's only 2 chapters left + the epilogue-- if y'all like to get in the taglist plz drop a request.

tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characthers, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Eleven

Planning

The cameras were everywhere, there wouldn’t be a second of this wedding that wasn’t being immortalized, every moment under intense scrutiny and bright lights, a trio of stylists following your every step, to ensure your hair, make-up and dress were in perfect condition at all times.

As you caught a breather you thought back to the build-up and the nonsense as you hid from a steamer.

The wedding planning had been an interesting endeavor from which you were almost entirely removed from the equation. 

From the second he’d made his plans known to Ashley and the board, he had taken complete control of planning, there wasn’t an aspect of the early wedding stages that you took charge of… heck you hadn’t even been aware such plans were in motion even after moving in together, until a wedding planner’s assistant came over after being unable to get in contact with Homelander– He didn’t apologize, brushing it off as your failure to pay attention, as if he had mentioned it at all. 

“I love you but you don’t have the best taste… and I can’t risk bad decisions ruining my wedding! What if your wine choice doesn't match the amuse-bouche? I can’t risk a disaster!”

“YOU DON’T EVEN DRINK!!” You shouted– and excuse me… why would you pick the menu!? I’m a chef! You barely eat!”

“I was gonna hire a sommelier… but… you can take care of the menu if it means so much to you” He says bitterly, trying to not sook– "I’ll pick the cake.”

“It’s my wedding too. We pick the cake, John.” You argued back.

“Our fake wedding.” He raised his eyebrow– "Why should you stress yourself…?”

“You…!” You bit your lip until it almost tore– whatever… I don’t want to talk about it today.”

He watched you walk out the terrace, angry at himself for wanting to chase after you but to him you were in the wrong and he had no need to apologize.

That night he woke you up– not that you had been sleeping much.

“Are you still mad at me?”

His weight sunk heavily on the soft mattress, you turned around slightly to meet his featureless shape.

“You have this incredible superpower to piss me off whenever things are going smoothly between us.” You growled almost– go back to bed, John. I don’t want to talk ‘bout it today.”

“It's tomorrow.”

You sighed loudly.

“You should’ve told me you were doing this… fake or not… is still my wedding too.”

“I’m sorry…” He sank next to you wrapping his thin arms around you– marrying you means more than you can ever imagine… is all I ever wanted… getting married… so I want it to be perfect.”

He mumbles against your back, god knows if he heard your heart rate spike and you don’t want him to tell you, if he heard the blood rushing towards your face as your whole body began to boil around him.

You let him hold you even after dawn came.

He promised to include you from that point on but from venues, to flowers, to the guess he continued to make most decisions without you.

This was his wedding and everything had to be perfect. 

Leaving you feeling like you were gonna be just a special guest on his day.

Admittedly you’d never imagined you would get the opportunity to see him grieve over various shades of off-white, china plates and glassware that weren’t perfect but almost perfect so they were the worst thing on the whole planet– there was some karma in the universe left after all.

It’d taken a couple hours for the three wedding planners and Ashley when this whole thing began to accept that you might be the ‘bride’ but if he could be the one walking down the aisle– he fucking would.  They almost felt sorry he hadn’t told you, but they had their hands fuller than yours… it had been a mercy to have been spared as much as you did, they thought. 

Cursing as you came to inspect the tenth different flower arrangement suggestion for the ceremony seats on the table, a whole team of graphic designers were tasked with the wedding cards and such based on the spread around you– god knew how painful it was to look at the budget for wedding favors… now you wished he had been the one doing this whole thing alone, it was exhausting… more than anticipated.

Thank god Ashley had to arrange the televising… the words pay-per-view thrown out a couple times had you on edge…certainly people wouldn’t pay to watch you get married… well see Homelander get married, right?

During your contributions you learned jokes were deadly in this department, a single joke about getting japanese wagyu had him snapping his fingers to get Ashley to source enough of it for the rather extensive list of guests.

“Why is Prince William and Kate on the list?” You said rather bemused.

The wedding planners and other suits looked away from you, the Seven’s table was filled with pictures of guests and silverware samples.

“Same reason the president was invited.” He fiddled with some demitasse spoon samples.

“That answers nothing.” you looked at your side, it was small, just coworkers and the few friends that had clung past your misfortune, your parents had called you wishing to reconcile and meet the granddaughter they’ve abandoned, something you shut down quite easily– I understand why you would invite the president… but please tell me you’re joking about the Kardashian’s… Celine Dion…? What’s next, Blackpink?”

“Why don’t you give me some suggestions? Not that I can invite Jisoo… she would take the spotlight from me.” Between the politicians, A-list celebs and business men invited, you did come short, so he raised his eyebrow daring you to affect the feng-shui as you wrote down a name– William.”

Homelander grinded his teeth– It didn't sound like a joke.

“He’s not going to show up” You said casually trying to calm him down as he twisted a nice silver fork into a twig.

He expected you not to joke about it at all.

It hadn’t been difficult for Butcher to find Ryan… it was already online for the whole world to know– he watched the kid from afar showing up randomly after school to watch Ryan be picked up by his personal driver and security guard, somedays Ryan looked mopey, some others he looked cheery. He was alive and healthy, acting like any other kid as he always should’ve had, it would be for short minutes, but Butcher needed to make sure he was alright… that he was still that same sweet kid from before.

Driving back home, he moved to change the station, his mind thinking of his former stepson as he talked to a girl while waiting to be picked up, proud of the little guy.

“Are you a pedo?”

Butcher almost swerved into a group of pedestrians.

Helena snickered as the car steadied itself, she put her seatbelt as the man forced his breath still.

“Why do you like staring at little kids? Or are you staring at one kid in particular… a little boy called Ryan Gillman, perhaps?”

“Who the fuck are you!?” He screamed with an extra gruff voice, his car still moving– slower than his heartbeat.

“Helena. Nice to meet ya– now if you go down that street and then take a left we can go get something to eat– it’ll be a nice thing to do after all you kidnapped me.” 

“Get out of my car!? How did you get in!?” Butcher stopped his car by the nearest sidewalk, as he reached for the door his hand clashed against a rippling pale blue wall.

“I could crush your skull against that window before you managed to open that door.” Her eyes glistened as the wall narrowed, she watched him with the same intensity a child sees an ant under a magnifying glass– now let’s talk ‘Candlestick maker’ preferably over a milkshake… I love me some malt vanilla.”

Butcher gasped as he felt the wind saturate his lungs, the kid watched him with detachment, briefly considering smashing his car and risking it but this was a little child, a little child asking about Ryan… not just any kid… as he had a clear look at her– this was Helena. The Homelander’s daughter. He swallowed, awaiting the familiar sonic boom to rock his car that never came.

“I thought you were a pedophile but I dunno if working for the feds is any better.” Her emotionless voice said as she dipped her chips on the ice cream– really creepy to be staring at school kids, dontcha think?”

Butcher had no appetite, just watching the kid trying to see if there were any blond threats lurking.

“I want to get rid of Ryan Butcher, or Ryan Gillman, who knows what to call him– you see he’s a bump in the road for me and the more I think about it… the more inconvenient he becomes. Honestly I can figure out a way to kill him and make it look like an accident (even if it takes me some time) and I got no qualms in doing so. If anything, the more time I spend with him the more I want to murder him… I understand that he’s your stepson, that he has an aunt named Racheal and two grandparents: Sam and Imogen Saunders… for all intents and purposes” She settles in her seat after taking a messy bite of her burger, wiping her cheeks as she spoke– he has options outside of Homelander… so killing him isn’t my only avenue of disposing of the worthless idiot.”

“Don’t think I won’t crush your head in this restaurant because they’re people ‘ere. What are you anyways… wha you did in the car was not something Homelander or Soldier Boy ev’r did”

“I’m just a super-abled kid…” She throws a chip at him– so threatening– go for it, murder me in broad daylight but I don’t think you’ll want that. I wanna help you Mr. Butcher… I need to monopolize my father’s affections in order for him to entrust the company to me– his shares, my future position set in stone, my inheritance… you know how much money we are talking about here? Enough to motivate a murder or a hundred.”

Butcher stared at the girl, dumbfounded, he could find very physical resemblance between the two but they sure had a way of talking.

“Look if you want the job… text me… no calls… don’t want Homelander to catch me lacking.”

“I don’t think you want to kill him… youse playing tough for somebody, otherwise you wouldn’t have come to me?” Butcher asked, killing the tense silence.

“Ryan's continuous existence is a direct threat to my future. I cannot afford to have the lingering notion that he would one day hold a higher position within the company than I do by virtue of being both male and the first born. I want him dead. But I’m merciful.”

Butcher was slid a sticky note with a phone number.

“So if you’re really his kid and not some weird PR… where the fuck did he kept you hidden?”

“I’m not privy to my parents' relationship history but I can tell you one thing and that’s that he didn’t know me by choice.” The kid pushed her food away, clearly losing appetite– by the way when you get around killing my old man please do so after we sort out the will situation… lots of paperwork y’know” She smiles with a playful tilt and a sudden glow in her eyes as he takes the note– "am not a very patient child, Mister Serial Killer.”

Butcher could only muster a dried disenhearted chuckle, thinking just how ridiculous this situation was.

“What do I get out of this?”

“It’s Ryan not enough?” She says with a puzzled look.

“It’s a lot of risk considering your old man it’s around.”

“If money it’s what you need… give me a couple days to sort that out… just give me a number… whatever might help you become somebody else… I dunno move to fucking New Zealand for all I care.”

“How much money can you steal without him noticing, little miss genius?”

“How much do you think a vial of compound V costs?” She took another bored bite of her meal– am sure that somebody with your reputation might find a buyer… they have already started some international distribution… Russia, China, Saudi, Turkey are not on the list tho– get creative. I’ll give you a dozen if you like… save me having to blackmail one of those lab rats to help me sell it.”

He smiled at the brat.

You on the other hand learned of her shenanigans after being inadvertently kidnapped while leaving work, after the initial trauma and shock dispelled– meeting these people after the posters with your face began circulating shouldn’t have surprised you, after all you had been panicking about this brit stealing your kids before you had the pleasure to meet him, never considering it be you.

“He isn’t going to rescue me… if anything if I die it's better for him” you remarked but they were confident this would work.

Homelander wouldn’t ‘rescue’ you until four days later when he just knocked on the hideout door– Butcher had had enough of you, exasperated by your terrible personality. 

If somebody was going to kidnap you were under no obligation to let yourself be pleasant, so you let them know.

“You deserve each other. I hope you never divorce because living with her will be a nightmare.” Butcher dragged him inside the dingy hideout, growling and grumbling.

“What did she do?” Homelander scratched his hair, finding the whole scene rather awkward.

“She bit me!” He screamed towards the back- fucking psycho bitch!”

“Black eye too?” He grimaced at the wound– why didn’t you” He gestured a stabbing motion.

“You deserve her.” He snarled.

Between your busted lips and bruises, you had bitten a fair amount of people as payback, you had been kicking and screaming none stop, your thumbs broken as you used them to escape from the first pair of cuff they forced on you– you had nothing of use, whatever trap they had for Homelander was rendered pointless as they just wanted you out of the blacksite more than anything.

“Four days!!!?” Your raspy voice roared the moment he stepped in your sight.

“Maybe next time don’t hit me with a toilet plunger. '' before you could rip your chains off on your own to kill him– it's a blacksite baby… I couldn’t find you! We assume you ran away but after two days the kids did got worried. We thought you ran away… Helena was certain.” he mumbled.

“It was clean!!” you spat dried blood– you bastard!”

Your ears hadn’t picked up much of what he was saying after being a smartass– you only wanted him to take these chains off and go home, you wanted him to be a hero for once.

“Y/N please...” He moved behind you, pulverizing the three sets of chains holding you together in one swift swipe– lordy lord, what did you do for them to get this dramatic? She’s human you know, William?”

“She nearly ate my fucking finger, putain.” Hughie had to hold back the Frenchman as he came with a knife from the kitchen.

“I spat it back didn’t I?” You might as well been cursing– and I gave you my marinara recipe so I think we’re even– you bitch!”

“Calm down, honey.” He said with his nicest voice, stroking your bruised wrist– Why don’t we go get you a nice warm bath and some gelato, after we get a doctor.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!!!” You screamed, ripping your hands away from him– I haven’t showered in 3 days!! They electrocuted me, hit me, called me ugly! and made me listen to shit 80’s music!!”

“Just take her!” Starlight shouted from the bathroom.

“It's a good recipe.” Frenchie said as he calmed down.    

“What’s wrong with her?” He looked at Starlight’s direction, catching her reeking in the bathroom.

At this point you cried and clung to him, your arms wrapped around his shoulder babbling about ice creams, gelato and your kids, his cautious expression painted with anxiety, not knowing if you welcomed him, but as your legs gave up and you cried he gave himself permission to embrace you.

“She spat a loogie in Annie’s mouth.” Butcher said, handing Homelander your work bag, the Supe had lifted you and cradled you as you cried– "I better not see you ever again.” he hissed.

“…next time I’ll pick her up the same day.”

He looked embarrassed as a light blush creeped on his face, hearing the signs of relief as the group saw them leave.

Flying home with a bit of pride in his chest as he simmered on the sight– the destruction and wounds you left, his lips shivered at the sight of your fear and anguish laden tears slowly being made those of relief. He was proud of you, he was proud that you never gave up, that you didn’t let him think he could beat you… how strange that you were always so perfect for him, almost as strong as him– he thought.

Helena would apologize thinking the man wouldn’t kidnap you over their deal but you were too busy soaking in the bath while you waited for Homelander to bring a couple pints of gelato from italy, you told her not to tell you anything further until you had the energy to handle it, obviously she had been swindle by the brit… thinking of him a savage hooligan and not a smart devil.

“Please don’t tell anything that can be used against you, Helena… I don’t know why you decided to interact with that man– anybody who decides to make their life mission to destroy your father and other supes… is not some patsy you can use.”

“I… I don’t know what to say…” she said unable to stop crying.

“Why you thought I’d run away?” You pressed sinking into the bathtub covering your ears in warm water.

Her lips moved but you heard very little, looking at her face resting on the bathtub rim, she left as Homelander came back they left to have a talk re-entering a few minutes later.

For the first time since this whole thing began you found yourself letting him pamper you without complaint as he fed you gelato, both entertaining a sense of normalcy for your relationship despite everything, his touch more welcomed than those abusive gruff hands. 

That night as you entered the bedchambers you asked him to move the beds together, something a light kick achieved. Homelander didn’t sleep much that night as he kept checking to see if you were still asleep, if you were okay, ogling with wet eyes the wounds of your hands– one dislocated and the other fractured, leaving you unable to work for at least 6 weeks.

“I thought you ran away… that I scared you away… I’ve been so manic lately.” he whispered close to you, his body just an inch away from feeling yours.

“The only way am running away from you guys is when I shoot my brains off… never… ever think I’ll leave where I can’t take my children.” Your voice almost broke as you tried to speak.

“Don’t leave me…” He sniffed loudly– Y/N please…”

“We’re stuck with each other, John… if anybody is gonna leave– it's you.”

He spoke very little after that, unsure if you were still upset, all he knew was that he wanted you to stay where he could see you, fearful that Butcher or some other force would tear you away from him once more– yet as you slept restlessly he found comfort on those wayward fingers clinging to his shirt.

You wrote the name down.

In return for the sick joke he turned your home into a bridal shop. The family room was stuffed to the brim with gowns of all shades of white and modernist choices– pale yellows and pinks, even daring blacks. Every shape of wedding dress available from exceedingly revealing and form fitting to something only an amish might wear.

“Homelander said if nothing here is up to standard he had a list of designers waiting for your call” Ashley muttered sipping on the champagne, you didn’t give her any grief for it despite being 10 am, Chrissie, Alessia and an old friend joined in the bubbly testing– he does want an answer by the end of the day.” She pressed.

“There’s like a thousand frocks in here.” You muttered– I might need a day.”

“This is what passed the first 3 rounds” She snorted looking at the lines and lines of stuff extending all the way into the hallway– "He has such good taste.”

You stared at her wondering if she was being sarcastic but it was hard to read her.

“With his ass he could wear these better than me” You chuckle.

Even she gave it a thought without disagreeing.

He would show up five hours in to check if you’ve made a decision, normal people would’ve asked him to leave but Ashley dragged your human friends out to safety instead.

You sat slouched on the arm chair wearing a dress worth two whole monthly paycheck, your back sore from looking at dresses and veils, foot throbbing from all the shoes and your eyes aching from staring at catalogs.

“You aren’t supposed to be here for this…” You said cracking your toes as you stretched your aching limbs.

“The lawyers said they had the prenup readied… as well as Ryan’s papers.”

He purposefully avoided gazing at your direction, his throat stuffed with cotton, he could hardly muster to swallow, his mouth arid as his eyes became red and wet.

“You could’ve texted me.”

He was more than jittery in his boots, you studied his posture trying to analyze him, rolling your eyes as you wrote your lines.

“John, do you want to help me pick the dress?” You relented standing up trying to flatten the newly form creases off the satin gown– I’ll be nice and not peek at your suit… altho there’s this really nice pantsuit over there—

“You don’t look good in tea-length” His words stiff, moving towards one of the racks to pick a pale mauve tulle gown– try this.

“Daring. I like it.” You humor him.

“I think if anybody is going to pull off a mauve and plum wedding dress that’s going to be you” the way he moved across those racks he might give Helena and run for her money in speed but instead of books it was silk and chiffon– this one is so pretty… vintage Dior… and this is a copy of Grace Kelly’s wedding dress.”

Decisions were made by day 2.

He was giddy and jovial, his mood only soured if things weren’t going smoothly with the wedding planning, hero work was secondary and Vought was even less important but overall he was happier, and the company could tell– this was him in his 20s before losing his mind. 

He would come home and respect your boundaries avoid touching you without permission, hovering around in the kitchen with the sudden interested in learning how to make omelets, seeing him make and fail doing breakfast just so you could sleep-in was a rewarding experience, he liked being led by you even if there was no kink involved this time– you were afterall now stuck at home… you blushed as he asked you how to make those jiggly pancakes Ryan had seen online, he seemed so normal as he asked for your help to follow the youtube video while you made a strawberry compote by his side, he talked to you as if he was that young man once again so chirpy and friendly as he asked about your thoughts on an old TV show that he had started watching after an off-handed comment he overheard from Helena’s assistant, or discussed some old missing person’s case that came on his youtube feed– it was nice to talk like normal people.

While injured he had hired a private driver for you, to save you the stress on your hands not wanting your injuries to worsen before you could return to work, hiring a nanny to help you with the kids and an extra maid to help at home, while he spared no expenses making sure you were truly unburdened.

It made you feel as if you were some Victorian lady of high society with how little you had to do.

You blushed as you watched him slip into human clothes as he forced himself to unwind for the day, leaving the superhero drama behind as he tucked his suit in the closet– You must have been feeding him well for he seemed to look healthier, his body bigger and glowy, you thought.

You certainly liked looking at his thighs.

“I still don’t know why Elmo likes these…” Helena snuggled at her father’s side, she was cuddly on purpose but her feet were still touching you as you stretched on the couch, Ryan snuggling on the other side of him.

“I like the talking blue cat.” He says as a hand mindlessly plays with her hair– he’s funny.”

“I like the banana guy” Said Ryan, which made his dad giggled in agreement.

He seemed like the John you fell in love with a decade ago, like a weird dream playing live– just you four laughing at some kids cartoons.

Whatever sweetness you’d gathered since your kidnapping was now twisting the knife in your gut just to remind you it was there.

It went back to zero as you sat in a boardroom filled with heartless bastards.

It started easy enough– you been informed Rebecca Saunders-Butcher was declared legally dead before she was found by Homelander, no birth registration had ever been made for Ryan, as during Edgar’s tenure Ryan was categorized as a company asset, giving him the same legal rights as a beagle, it had been a hassle to have him recognize as a human being once he came out to the public… but it provided the opportunity of your name being put on his new birth certification– in the eyes of the law you would be Ryan’s biological mother. At first you assumed they were adoption papers until your eyes started swimming thru the lines, you could feel your whole body trembling, unable to muster a word as you tried to remain calm, this felt ludicrous, the idea of adopting Ryan didn’t bother you– it came off as sensible even.

But this felt dangerous, Homelander could smell the intoxicating and repulsive cocktail of visceral functions and hormones, he lifted his hand demanding the room to be cleared.

“Do you know what you’re asking me here?” Your voice was a nervous squeak as you pushed the paper towards his direction.

Homelander watches you shake like a leaf, offended at your sudden rejection his lip raised just enough for you to see some teeth.

“Suddenly getting cold feet after I spend all this money on you?”

Your brows crease.

“I never said I wasn’t going to be his mother… You’re asking me to lie about being pregnant 10 years ago, You’re asking me to pretend we share DNA! I’ll adopt him but this is– illegal… is amoral. What would he think if he ever finds this!?” You cried.

“He won’t.”

“What if he needs his birth certificate to get a driver's license!?”

“He can fly!” He argued back.

“Maybe his future wife would like him to drive her places! I dunno!” Glozing over the rest wasn’t any better– look… let’s think about this… this’s a lot and this… this shit isn’t helping.”

The calendar in front of you had only one thing written in it and that was Homelander’s birthday.

“I want you to have custody of Ryan.” He took the small calendar away, you froze watching him shrivel as he bit and chewed at his lips– if I die… Ryan has nobody to protect him. The government or Vought are no places for him… they’ll use him, abuse him, neglect him and he will come out of it broken– he isn’t strong like me. He’s my baby, but he’s delicate… he used to have people who cared about him but now he only has me. Nobody else in the whole world actually cares for him! But… but you’re his sister’s mother and his stepmother, you are family. The only one he has… so if I died then I’d rather my son stay with his only other family– than end up in a cell or a freezer…” He squeezed at his cape– I rather you have him than him ending up suffering like I did.” He let a couple tears fall, ashamed of his own reaction.

Whatever was happening outside your house, had him anxious, no doubt something involving Vought, Butcher or the FBSA.

“John. John… just give me a day… I’d rather adopt him… but if this is the best way to protect him…” Your stood up moving towards him to place a callous hand on his shoulder, you could tell this wasn’t easy to ask, it was definitely not timed correctly as the calendar you two had been fighting about twenty minutes ago was still in the room but here he was hurting– I just worry that he’ll hate me. That he’ll feel as if I erased his mother and forced myself into his life… we’re still a little awkward around each other.”

“He’ll understand when he’s older.” He said firmly but gently.

He kissed your knuckle, stroking your wrist looking up.

“I think before we do this together… we should ask Ryan if he wants to be adopted– then we can bring this up again.” You placed your spare hand atop of his, squeezing his fingers as you spoke– Ryan has gone through so much, and I don’t blame you for being nervous… you should… you have a tough job… and I’ve already been kidnapped… I’m just saying I don’t want to frighten him.”

“You mean that?” He asked, trying to rest his cheek on you, your hand lifting just before he could to grab him, not letting him rest on your hand but pushing his forehead onto your stomach, he turned limp, wrapping his arms around your legs once the blood returned to his brain, inhaling deeply– you would take good care of him.”

“I like the idea of him calling me ‘mom’ one day.” 

You twisted the knife right back in.

He catches his reflection on the steel and the other one simply stares at him with a hint of doubt in his eyes.

taglist-- @fromforeigntofamiliarity @demodemo909 @immyowndefender @ghqstfqce

[pieofdeath]

ok my liveblog of the first spiderverse movie below the cut because its fuck off long. its 6 pages on google docs. for people who don't wanna read that- I had a very good time and I thoroughly enjoyed it, I'm gonna queue up the second one here shortly. i legitimately cried several times.

Intro fucking slaps

Miles’ dad using the cop sirens and car speaker to make miles say ily back. I hate that i find this incredibly funny.

ARE THOSE NIKES. DID SONY GET THE RIGHTS FOR NIKES.

MIDDLE SCHOOL. Oh my god. Middle school. Hes a kid. Hes at most 14. Oh my god.

DOC OCK <3

GWEN SPOTTED!!!!!

Fisk family foundation. Is this the time i should mention my extent of spiderman knowledge comes from my faefriend (very little they just show off the cool suits) and the snapcube fandub.

Uncle aaron rules and i think hes gonna die

Alchemax. Wasnt that the name on the spider from the intro. 

I THINK I GET IT NOW

SPIDER IN THE CEILING SPOTTED

This movie is so pretty btw i know everybody says that but its simply true. It is. Its really pretty.

The graffiti slaps

I've switched to typing these on my phone so I don't have to keep pausing

SPIDER BITE

THAT WAS THE COOLEST THING EVER. INCREDIBLE TRANSITION. LOVE HOW MILES BARELY CARED AND JUST SLAPPED THE SPIDER 

Yeah those are actual Nikes 

THE VOICE IN HIS HEAD POST SPIDERMAN BEING REPRESENTED AS COMIC BUBBLES

HOLY SHIT THIS MOVIE IS GENIUS.

Why doesn't she want people to know her name is Gwen? Why is she lying about being south African 😭

gwanda. Wanda. 

THE SHOULDER TOUCH. MILES YOU ARE SO SILLY 

“I don't think you know what puberty is”

STICKY SPIDER BOY.

SHE FULL THREW HIM HOLY CRAP

“No one saw” literally everyone saw

the double take for the super tall girl. that's incredibly realistic/gen I think this movie is awesome 

OUT LOUD BARK-LAUGHED AT “play dumb.” “Who's Morales” “NOT THAT DUMB.”

Idiot spider smashing into windows. obsessed with him.

the zoom in on the eyes. this art style is incredible 

THE INCREDIBLY SICK LAND AFTER HE GOT HIT BY THE CAR!!!

page break 1

“It's like. boring how normal this spider is.” and it immediately glitching in and out. INCREDIBLE.

The SPIDER SENSE. HOLY SHIT. 

THE GIANT LOOK OUT ON THE WINDOW.

SPIDERMANNNNN

“Brooklyn is not zoned for that” 😭

The little squiggles as Peter RealizesTM

who the fuck is purple guy genuinely 

MILES RECORDING THE FIGHT I LOVE HIM

KINGPIN 💖

I genuinely don't have words for how fucking incredible that was

“Can't you get up?” “Yeah, yeah I always get up.” Hm I don't think that's gonna be true for much longer

Is spiderman blonde I thought he was a brunette 

DID HE JUST FUCKING KILL SPIDER-MAN!!!

Ok purple guy is cool as hell

HE IMMEDIATELY RAN HOME. I'm going to cry. 

This kid is 14. I'm going. 

SO YES HE LEGITIMATELY DIED.

STAN'S COLLECTIBLES. HI MR LEE. AUGJDJAKAKC…. 😭 (these r agonized noises)

“I'm going to miss him.” EUFHFJSKAK

We were friends, you know.” SURIEJSKAKDUFUA

“It always fits. Eventually.” EURUFJDKAKDJCJK.

you can't fucking do this to me. 

This is just a kid with a party city suit that doesn't fit and untied shoes.

THE AAAAAAA AS HE FALLS

oh shit he broke the drive thingy

The suit still has the fucking tag on it.

EVERYTHING AROUND PETER'S GRAVE.

“I'm sorry Mr. Parker.” AUDJFJDJDJAK…..

LIGHTNING POWERS

PETERRRRRR THE PETER IVE SEEN

THE INTRO DEFINITELY HAD OFF BRAND COCA COLA AND THIS ONE HAS LEGITIMATE COKE

HOLY SHITTTTT

he's divorced and aunt may is dead D:

Crying in the shower in the spiderman suit with a piece of pizza on the tub rim I think this is the most spiderman img ever

“I'm pretty sure I broke her heart”

Nick Kroll and John Mulaney “hi, hello” but they're super old 😭

YEAH OK OK IT WAS KOCA SODA. 

“I don't think my atoms are real jazzed about being in the wrong dimension”

“With great power comes great-” “Don't you DARE finish that sentence”

Miles crouching on the side of the wall

page break 2

ITS THE MEME IMG YAAAY

CLACKITY CLACKITY CLACKITY-

MILES CAN TURN INVISIBLE 

HER INSANE DESKTOP

HES JUST TAKING THE WHOLE COMPUTER!!!

GWEN ALCHEMAX INTERN

“let me tell you the good news. We don't need the monitor.” 😭

BAGEL! guy!!!!!

GWENNNNNNNNN

Ok I paused during the swinging scene to go get some food and get dressed and then came back

It was oatmeal btw

OHHH THIS IS NOT THE GWEN HERE

The fact that all of the intro shots are the same is very fun to me

Peters her best friend AWWW

OH IT IS THE GWEN HERE!!!

I THOUGHT IT WAS!! BECAUSE SHE WAS WEIRD ABOUT HIS STICKY POWERS

AND SHE TIME TRAVELED TOO… SO COOL

“I like your haircut.” “You don't get to like my haircut.”

“How many more spider people are there?” “Save it for comic-con” “what's comic-con”

Every time we cut to kingpin I lose it 

AW VANESSA AND RICHARD :(

why is this guy blue btw they haven't addressed it at allllll 

Fascinated by Gwen’s universe where Peter Parker isn't spiderman.

AWW PETER AWAKE IN THE BACKSEAT 

AUNT MAYYYYYY

I'm literally obsessed with aunt may 

ALL THE DIFFERENT SPIDERSUITS!!!!!

my faefriend has told me about all these I think. like a good chunk of these I recognize. No idea what they're called or what they do but.

THE IMG OF MILES LOOKING UP AT THE SPIDERSUIT.

THE NAME TAGS FROM THE INTROSSSS

SPIDEY SENSES

SPIDER NOIR HEHEHEHAHAUD

PENI AND HER FUNKY LITTLE MECH!

HIIIIIII SPIDERHAMMNMM!!!!!

LITERALLY OBSESSED WITH SPIDERNOIR. 

the dichotomy between noir peni and ham is so so funny

Noir is so cool

Augh… Them talking about how he isn't ready when he's right there…

HIS DAD CALLING HIS UNCLE… 

Why is he writing a letter in marker

Fucking prowler. looks so cool

OH SHIT PROWLER IS UNCLE AARON!?!?!

page break 3

NO LONGER WORRIED ABOUT HIS SAFETY HOLY SHIT

DID HE BRING HIM TO THE TUNNEL WITH THE INTENT OF SPIDERMAN?!

Uncle Aaron HAS to know that it's Miles

This is so fucked

Peni doing her fun thing!

Noir trying to identify colors!

Does that mean noir can only see grayscale. that's hilarious.

I love the different art styles

Aunt may like please let's not fight in my house

“We don't pick the ballroom, we just dance” noir I'm obsessed with you

Did ham just crack a plate over his own head

I love that he can turn invisible that's so cool 

Especially when he keeps flickering in and out when he's scared. Miles my beloved 

OH HE DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS MILES OH THANK GOD

I mean this is really really sad but also good because it means he isn't knowingly  homicidal towards his nephew 

HOLY SHIT. 

KINGPIN SHOOTING UNCLE AARON BECAUSE HE DIDNT KILL MILES

I'm going to sob on the fucking floor

HIS DAD 

HIM TURNING INVISIBLE BECAUSE HE DIDNT WANT TO FACE HIS DAD AIGHSJDKA…

HIS INVISIBLE POWERS ARE LITERALLY THE MOST HEARTBREAKING THING IN THE WORLD

HE THINKS MILES KILLED HIS UNCLE FUCKKKKKKKK

THEM NAMING ALL THE PEOPLE WHO THEY WATCHED DIE. AUDJFJCJSKAF…

IM LEGITIMATELY TEARIN UP GANG FUCK THIS MOVIEEEE

if you can't tell I love it

“Miles, the hardest thing about this job is… you can't always save everybody.” SAID BY A LITTLE CARTOON PIG VOICED BY JOHN MULANEY. 

ALL OF THEM CRAMMED ON THE CEILING OF MILES DORM HOLY SHIT 

Noir is really funny to look at in the light

I don't think noir is in the second one which is 😭

The relationship between Miles and his Dad is literally going to make me cry

THE LIGHTNING CRACKLING IN HIS EYES AND THEN HIM BURSTING THROUGH THE WEBS AND THE PATTERN ON HIS SKIN!!!!!!!!!!!

Aunt May waiting for Miles in the basement!!!! 

HIS EYES LINING UP WITH THE SPIDERMAN SUIT WHEN THEY HADN'T BEFORE.

The what's up danger scene really is that fucking incredible. oh my god. I got chills.

He spray painted his suit and the spider is drippy!!! I'm literally about to go feral.

The hoodie and jacket and Nikes and shorts still over the suit. 

The WOOOOO as he goes up the place he fell before.

The incredible shot of him stationary mid-air that I think was the poster

This is literally the coolest movie ever

page break 4

HIS COMIC JOINING THE PILE.

THEM DRESSED AS WAITERS DJDJDJJAJAJC

PETER AND MJ…

DRAMATIC CUT TO NOIR HOLDING A PLATTER AND GWEN SO GODDAMN TIRED

MJ is so pretty in this art style btw. 

The Doc Ock tentacles creeping in through the ceiling right behind Peter…

MILESSSS

“I love you I'm so proud of you!” AUDHFJDJAJAJDK!!!!

MILES MAKING PETER RE-EVALUATE IF HE WANTS KIDS…

NEW YORK BREAKING APART

Noirs fight is SO COOL. Putting the hat on the guy and then punching him in the face.

sorry I love film noir as an aesthetic and spider noir is so cool

PENI V SCORPION 

THE FUCKING ANVIL. 

FUCK THEM UP HAM!!!!!

PENI HITTING THE GUY WITH A ROBOT ARM AND IT BRIEFLY FLICKERING TO HER ART STYLE!!!!

PENI’S ROBOT FRIEND D:

DOC OCK GETTING HIT BY A DAMN TRUCK

obsessed with Peni and Noir's friendship.

NOIR SAID HE LOVES THEM

HE TOOK THE RUBIX CUBE

EVERYTHING FLICKERING BLACK/WHITE WHEN NOIR ENTERS

HAM SAYING “THATS ALL FOLKS” AND PETER ASKING IF HE WAS LEGALLY ALLOWED TO SAY THAT 😭

GWEN AND MILES FRIENDSSSS

MILES HOLDING ONTO PETER'S SUIT AND DROPPING HIM IN. 

“It's a leap of faith.” FUCK YOU

“Not bad, kid.” FUCK YOU 

Miles taking kingskins gun and saying “that's cheating” 😭

VANESSA AND RICHARD LEAVING THE SAME WAY THEY DID IN THE FLASHBACK BECAUSE KINGSKIN WAS DOING THE SAME DAMN THING. FUCK ME DUDE.

MILES DAD IS WATCHING

THE ENTIRE FUCKING BRIDGE. 

This is the coolest fight scene ever btw

HE ELETROCUTED KINGSKIN WITH THE FUCKING SHOULDER TOUCH

the fact that the interconnected universes look like a spider's web. fuck dude.

HAMS ANVIL

THE BUILDING FUCKING EXPLODED. IS MILES’ DAD OK!!!

IS HE FUCKING OKAY!!!

OK THANK GOD HE'S ALIVE

HIS DAD OFFERING TO PUT UP SOME OF HIS ART AT THE POLICE STATION

C-MOBILE 😭

THE HUG!!!!!!!

page break 5

IM FULLY CRYIN BTW.

KINGSKIN HELD UP BY THE WEB. “FROM YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDERMAN.”

THE UNCLE AARON ART. FUCKING HELL DUDE.

Omg miles finally has friends

PENI'S ROBOT FRIEND!!!

NOIR SOLVED THE CUBE!!!! I proud of him

PETER GOING TO SEE MJ WITH FLOWERS…

GWEN CALLING OUT TO MILES ACROSS DIMENSIONS!!!!

THE SPRAY PAINT SPIDER

the credits are fucking INCREDIBLE

the different art styles I'm going to scream

NOIR SHOWING OFF THE CUBE. 

Did that just say Nicholas Cage.

Who the fuck is voiced by Nick Cage.

NOIR?!?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE'S NOIR HOLD THE FUCK ON.

N O I R?!?!

Incredible movie.

“That person who helps others simple because it should or must be done, and because it is the right thing to do, is indeed without a doubt, a real superhero. -Stan Lee” FUCK ME SIDEWAYS WITH A CHAINSAW DUDE

Literally crying again over that.

Ok yeah that was a really good movie. I'm gonna start the second one in a bit. I think I need some recovery time 😭

Wait I skipped to the end to see if there was an after credits scene and. Ok obsessed with Spidey-Bells. 😭😭😭

MIGUELLLLLL I KNOW THIS GUYYYYYYY 

THE SPIDERMAN SCENE. THE POINTING SCENE.

IM GOING TO CRY THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY

INCREDIBLE AFTER CREDITS SCENE.

end of liveblog! as you can see I really fucking liked it akjdfskajf I had to put the pagebreaks in otherwise tumblr got mad about like. 4096 characters per text block limit? ok wild. it provides checkpoints which I think is nice. onto the second movie.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 30

The Blind Banker

"The Blind Banker"

What makes me sad about the Sherlock episodes is I don't think I'm ever going to be able to formulate any fun little games like I have for Supernatural (and may yet develop for Doctor Who). They just come up too infrequently.

I forgot how weird the cinematography in Sherlock can get. There was just this really small segment where...it felt like when a video games frame rate drops. Lasted like 10 seconds and then........like, why did you do that?

Moffat, I think, should be allowed to come up with concepts, but not be allowed to write...and especially not write female characters. This is the coldest take I may have ever had. It's just this poor museum worker...

Man, I've either skipped this episode a bunch of times or just paid far less attention during it because, while I can recall a FEW scenes and something of a general outline for the mystery, there's an HOUR AND A HALF OF STORY. And I know I can't fill in that much from memory.

Yeah, there's a life or death fight with a guy with a sword at 221B, but OMG JOHN IS ME. I prefer using the self-checkout when shopping, but because I know how. to. do. things. right., it's so frustrating when the machine doesn't cooperate. I very recently got to the end of all my scanning, everything was bagged, I was just down to PAYING and the computer decided to call for assistance. Not me, the computer, for no discernible reason. Anyway, John, I feel your pain

"I had a row with the chip and PIN machine" "You had a row?" "Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse." Well, now he's just me with every machine I have at work.

(Guys, we're less than 10 minutes in. I'm...extremely sorry for how long the Sherlock ones get. In my defense, this was my main obsession of the three back in the day.)

I'm sure somewhere on this website there's a gifset of Sherlock going around this office, dipping between the cubicles alongside gifs of David Tenant doing the same in Partners In Crime. I probably reblogged it back in the day (but that might have been before I really started tagging things)

Sure, some of the deductions are bullshit, but figuring out who the message was for was pretty impressive. Also, I will also never be mad at him putting the cops to shame.

Ok. I'm starting to remember, this is a smuggling ring...backed by Moriarty question mark??? I know he gets a mention at the end (sorry, we're now four weeks out from seeing him and i'm going to be ANNOYING)

--At this moment, 8:10pm, I've paused for the gazillionth time, but this time to go through the tag for the episode...and it's a shock to know that this is either THE episode with THE tight purple shirt that is the entire reason I use purple for the Sherlock titles or it's just the FIRST one with it. Omg. I've been scrolling and scrolling the tag for ages trying to find anything with that shirt in its actual color. You couldn't escape it ten years ago. Now? Nothing.

THIS shirt. God. I have to do EVERYTHING around here--

You can kind of tell that John's never done anything wrong ever in his entire life (save for the murder last episode, but even that was to defend someone who was about to be murdered-ish) by the way he didn't run the second Sherlock and the graffiti artist started running

One thing about John (and possibly just Martin Freeman) is that he really know how to yell at someone while barely raising his voice. I mean, suuuuure, is Sherlock getting attacked and nearly dying? Yeah, but John's annoyed with him.

Also, I didn't say this before, but I meant to...Sherlock's a lot better at lying to people to convince them to do things than Dean...or Sam, honestly.

Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!! The number pairs are like...page number, word number of some book from that library book!! I'm piecing it together now!

Omg this Scotland Yard detective is insufferable. At least Lestrade knows he's outmatched and needs Sherlock's help. This guy won't believe there's a serial murderer even with three victims until Sherlock can prove it. Like won't even investigate it? At all??

I love Molly but I loathe how easily she gets played by Sherlock. How easily she's manipulated by him. The slightest compliment. Not even a compliment, honestly. First he just notices her hair is styled different, then says it suits her better like that. Dude. Stop falling for this, girl.

Look, I like Sarah and John, they're cute, but also my aro-spec ace ass could never accidentally (or not) say "good" when someone says they don't have a significant other after. ESPECIALLY if I've accused them of slacking on the job due to said non-existent partner. Good LORD.

How are you so bad at hiding that you almost get caught that easily??...No, you DID get caught that easily. John was right. You don't think anyone can compare to your massive ego, Sherlock.

You know what? The Black Lotus had every right to do what they did. The banker and the librarian were just two more in a long line of the English going to distant countries and taking shit that ain't theirs. They had every right to kill them over an artifact worth MILLIONS that the banker's secretary will now have to hide for the rest of her life.

Mrs. Hudson takes such good care of her boys.

Sorry, but if I got kidnapped and almost killed after a date where my date's roommate crashed to drag said date into solving a mystery with him, there wouldn't be a second date. There would only be my permanent 'fun fact about me.'

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[fordarkisthesuede]

I got tagged by @fractualized - and I had to think about this for a while. Sorry for the delay, frac'! I pretty much felt like this all week (lol):

GIF by lostwithoutmyboswell

Ok, so we're gonna start from #5, because I decided to rate these like a loon:

#5:

Birth. Starting off on the disk horse topic of HP fanfic. Listen, regardless of how I feel about the series now (which is messy, to say the least), there's one thing I still can't help but love about it...and it's not only tiny, but half of the reasoning behind it is of my own making. It's Peeves the Poltergeist. I LOVE Peeves. He's my favorite character type - short, temperamental, powerful, 90% humor and fun, inhuman, and neither a Good nor Bad guy. I rarely used to read HP fic back in the day, but I noticed that for such a big fandom, he never had much to his name. (And what I did find was...disappointing for me.) I reread the series in 2015 for the first time in a while and did some Deep Thinking about him. What his limits are. How he's presented. Where he even came from. The bare scraps of canon and Word of God (distasteful) material pushed my buzzing brain to write about him, and eventually churned out this little origin story. I wrote several one-shots surrounding him, but this is my favorite of the bunch. In my eyes, it's simple, short, and effective in storytelling. So I like it. (^_^)

#4:

The Whole Nine Yards. Yes, my current WIP is on the favorite list. It started off as a sex-romp list, because I had too many positions and kinks I wanted John and Bruce to try. It first grew into showing Bruce/John as a couple at home, because my main fics in the Perseverance Project series don't get to show them being all lovey-dovey as much as I'd like. Then I added a few dashes of angst for character building. Then it evolved into including what AtBoM skipped over (for various reasons) - visits at Arkham showing their [growing] love and trust rebuild post-S2, and showing different sides to them.

So what we have now is: "Two guys in love met in an asylum 2.5 years ago, and less than one year after they first met, one keeps coming to visit the other. The visits' subjects are then related to current day, where they finally live together like a real couple, with all it's ups and downs, and sexy results". It's a mouthful, I know. ;D But I think it works!

It's great to explore all these things and essentially back-track a bit versus rewrite any part of AtBoM. Plus, I get to mumble about something that always interests me in this 'verse: Bruce's relationship with his parents. To go from loving them and putting them and their deaths on a pedestal to look to for inspiration to keep going on being Batman, to learning they were the biggest criminals in the city and a key reason while he's even having to be Batman... That's gotta affect how he looks at things. Like, I mentioned Bruce's dislike of his house in AtBoM and TToJ, but here it's full-force. It was a mausoleum for their memory and now it's just a means to an end. He doesn't consider it home, or even rightfully his. But John living there with him makes it a home. Their home. :')

Also, I feel like I'm playing a decorating game and a dress up game with it! Kind of like The Sims, I guess. xD John's room and summer wardrobe are fun to craft as I go. (Don't worry, you'll get to see John's classic outfit at the end. For...reasons.) Plus, soon* you'll see Bruce's bedroom revamped!

#3:

A Ghost Too Far. Disk Horse, part two. Peeves is the one thing I still wistfully sigh over and go "ah, what could have been"...all while knowing that I took the bones of my blorbo and crafted him a full body myself. It's been 7 years since I started writing this particular story, and it clocks in over 230K words. As things are now, I have no idea if I'll ever actually finish it, for a myriad of reasons. So to make a long story short (HA!):

Out of the hundreds of thousands of HP fanfics, and the handful that had Peeves as a character, I found Peeves had no proper big epic romance story of his own and decided to make him one, combining it with one big exploratory setting of How He Is, all set in 2003/2004. His destined romantic partner is an American witch (queue eyeroll), acting as a one-year-only DatDA teacher (queue harder eyeroll), who I can describe in modern** terms as a gender-non-conforming adult punk who is absolutely fascinated with ghosts. She makes it a point to study the castle ghosts, especially Peeves, as poltergeists are super rare and physical ones are apparently unheard of outside of him. She makes a deal with Peeves that he can break just about anything she owns and annoy her all he wants, in exchange for information on how he works. Which I worked out via the aforementioned HP reread and lots of Deep Thinking as literally by feeding off of (aka absorbing) magic from humans, like his "relatives" the Dementor and Boggart. Unlike them, he primarily eats high energy feelings of "anger" "sadness" and "excitement", because he was created in a castle with children who can have powerful feelings of all three very easily. Is this theory of mine presented in canon? Who fucking cares anymore, the author's dead in all senses but literal.

It might not be finished, and it might never be, but writing out this monstrosity of a theory while getting a guy like Peeves to fall in and explore love for the first time holds a special place in my heart. Because not only does Peeves reside permanently in my brain (I'm pretty sure he's the Writing Gremlin who suggests those "this is what goes painfully wrong" scenarios), but so does Dandrane, who I hand-crafted to be Peevesy's romantic partner. I love her. I owe her. Her favorite color is hot pink; because of her, I have gotten over my old feud with the color pink. I wrote her to be 30 while I was then 24; after a while, nearing/turning 30 no longer bothered me. I wrote her to be cool, confident, and a little horrible. Because we all have that bitchy little voice in our head sometimes... The desire to break something without consequences... The need to have our anger recognized rather than ignored or attempted to be placated... Dandrane is a wonderful vessel for these feelings, even after all this time.

She's my cool girl. My tall bean. My silly little flamingo. I want to put her in an enriched enclosure and watch her with a set of binoculars.

#2:

At the Brink of Midnight. My most popular fic is second-place in my heart, at this current hour. (Ha!) For reasons I'm sure you long-time readers already guessed, that I have mentioned time and again in it's author notes: this fic was FUN to make!!!

The Halloween setting! The fresh takes on Scarecrow and Poison Ivy! John recreating Joker! Bruce rescuing John! Bruce finally hugging John! THE CONFESSION SCENE! A rave scene in a graveyard!!! Batman and Joker teaming up to kick ass!!!!!

It's! So! Great!!! It's not too long, but still a big novel-length! Easy to read and get lost in! It presents an original character who carries the possibility of redemption! It hits all those story beats I craved to see for a Season 3! Hell, even now I'd be hard pressed not to expect to see Dr. Crane in any potential sequel we'd get IRL!

Are there things I'd change? Sure. But nothing major. I'm still happy with it, even 4 years later. Maybe part of my love for it is also a desire to be able to pump out 110K words within a few months again...

#1:

The Tolls of Justice!

Is it my most popular fic? Nah, it's #2. But it's my #1. The king of my heart. It took 2-and-a-half years to finish, in no small part because 2020 was a bitch. And despite the frustration at writer's block, despite the silly errors that I still need to go back and fix, and despite the time it took...God, I LOVE it.

Whenever I reread part of it, I get sucked in and read more than I meant to. I know the majority of the little notes I made, but whenever I read one of the tarot hints I can't help but go ehe he he. I read John's breakdown in Arkham, and his transformation into what is his final form of vigilante!Joker, and I still tear up. I see the theme of a writer playing God, of having a defined inescapable ending but proving that choices still matter, and just sit with it in utter delight.

I have many favorite moments: Tiffany and John's day out, the entirety of the Wayne Gala, John and Iman's investigation at the theater, Batman's descent into the Court of Owls' secret lair with Robin... But I have a favorite bit. It's the kind of thing I giggle over while kicking my legs in my seat.

So in Chapter 12, Batman and Joker are having a few moments together before the Big Battle in the high tier of seats above the main floor/"stage area", able to watch the Court of Owls' mock-trial below. In theaters, the highest tier is sometimes known as "the gods" seats.

As my version of the CoO has their whole thing built on "our God wrote down our destiny exactly and the Evil God keeps causing chaos to interfere", and considering the DC multiverses and that Batman and Joker are constantly in them, and as Bats and Jokes are generally simplified as "Order and Chaos"... They're figuratively 'gods' in "the gods" seats watching the show below. ౧(*മ് ധമ്)੭ु⁾⁾

As for WIPs, I only have 2 at the moment. I use OneNote to write all my ideas for it (when I'm actually writing them down):

As you can see, I have sections for The Whole Nine Yards (abbreviated "W9Y" in notes only) and the untitled "BtTTS S5" below. (The "After Hours" is just IRL work notes, when I had to use my personal PC for work in 2020, and "Noir "is literally a list of film noir movies I'm keen to watch. I've been really into them lately!)

Right now S5's notepad only has 2 sections - the Thinkbox and "J Tech". The Thinkbox pages are pretty much the brainstorm dumping ground...but TWNY's is actually laid out rather nicely, like this. I'd post a screenshot, but then this post would...uh, turn nsfw... (; ' o' )

Right now, the only WIP word docs are here, in my "BtTTS - The Perseverance Project" folder:

As for tagging...hm. Um... Since it was frac' who tagged me... I choose @distort-opia, if they're so inclined! (And anyone else who wants to!) Edit: I am a fool who does not reread properly. 😭 Sorry hun, you already did it! So field's wide open!!!

*at the time of this posting, TWNY Chapter 7 is still in progress. It's 2/3rds of the way done! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

**at the time of writing the story in question, the term "gender non-conforming" was not known about as widely as it is now; basically, I knew what it was without knowing what it was called.

[munstysmind]

THE NEXT DAY - Maddison - An Original Story

WARNING/S: Mentions of injuries, tiny bit of legal stuff

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY WAY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

SERIES MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

Sebastian lets out a low groan, rubbing his eyes as he wakes to the sun streaming across his bed. He lays there for several minutes, the events of the night before playing in his head.

He sighs and sits up, running his fingers through his hair before throwing back the covers and getting up to start what he knows is going to be a very tough day.

Several hours later he’s finishing his lunch when his phone rings. He doesn't recognise the number.

"Hello?"

"is this mr. sebastian stan?"

"Uh yeah"

"this is officer john grayson with the nypd. my partner and i responded at the hospital list night. our information has you listed as the primary contact for maddison holden, it that correct?"

"Yes, that's right"

"is she with you currently?"

"Yeah, she's staying with me"

"at the address you gave us last night?"

"Yes. May I ask what this is about?"

"sorry, yes. i was just calling to let you know that we're headed your way to take some more detailed statements so we can start the report regarding last night. will the both of you be available for the next hour or so?"

"Oh, OK. Ummm, yeah. That should be fine"

"ok then, we will see you shortly"

"OK, thank you"

Sebastian sighs and places his phone down on the counter. He looks over at Maddie still asleep on his couch. He wants to let her sleep, she needs all the rest she can get right now so he’d left her.

He closes his eyes and lets out another heavy sigh knowing he can't put it off any longer. He knows she’s going to be angry at him for it but he has to.

He reluctantly walks over to the couch, kneeling in front of her and starts rubbing her back, not wanting to hurt her.

"Mads… it’s time to wake up" he says quietly as she starts to stir.

She’s never been in so much physical pain. Not even that time on Supernatural when she dislocated her hip so badly that she had to be sedated for the doctor to put it back into place compared the pain she’s currently in.

Her left hand throbs. Her head feels like it’s about to crack open. The left side of her face is on fire. Her neck is in a vice. EVERYTHING hurts.

She can feel Sebastian rubbing circles on her back. She lets out a pained whimper as she opens her eyes and looks at him.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry" he whisperers as he silently curses himself. It breaks his heart to see her like this, especially when he thinks he could have prevented it from happening.

Her left eye is completely swollen shut and she can only open her right eye about 70% from all the swelling from the left side of her face. She doesn’t even want to think what she looked like.

After a few minutes he helps her slowly sit up before sitting down next to her, putting his arm around her as she immediately snuggles into him. She feels safe with him. In a way she’s always taken for granted until now.

"When is he getting here?" she asks as she looks down at the cast on her left hand, her voice coming out as barely a whisper. It hurts to breathe let alone talk.

"I know you called him" she tells him when he doesn’t answer her. She knows he would have been the very first call Sebastian made, even before her parents.

"He's on his way. He lands in a hour"

"Why did you wake me?"

"The police are on their way"

"WHAT?!?!" she ways, her voice cracking as she looks at him panicked.

Why were the cops on their way? Had Travis gotten to them first? Was she getting in trouble instead of him?

"Hey, hey, calm down. It’s OK. They are just coming to get a more detailed statement from you so they can start their report, you weren't exactly cooperative last night. You're not in trouble" he tells her, giving her a gentle squeeze trying to reassure her

"That's all they're coming for?"

"Yeah Mads, that's it, I promise"

Sitting on the kitchen counter, Sebastian watches as Maddie give her statement to the NYPD officers, the same two officers that were at the hospital last night.

She’s crying and scared as she recounts everything that happened the night before. He wants so badly to go over and hug her but he knows he needs to say back and not interfere.

He would have left the apartment completely if it weren't for her fear of him not being there to protect her from Travis.

After almost an hour he’s pulled out of his thoughts by the intercom buzzer going off

"Yeah?" Sebastian says after pressing the answer button

"Seb" a man on the other end says

"Come on up" Sebastian replies, buzzing him in.

A few minutes later there’s a knock at the door and Sebastian opened it to let the man in

"How is she?" Jensen asks, unable to hide the worry in his voice. Sebastian just shakes his head head and motions over to Maddie and the two NYPD officers on his couch.

"She's a wreck" Sebastian says, fighting the urge to cry as he looks at her. She’s the kindest person he’s ever known, she doesn’t deserve this.

Both men lean against the kitchen bench and watch as the police officers finished getting Maddie's statements. After another half hour they’re were finally done and all three of them stand up from the couch before heading over to the door.

That's when Maddie sees Jensen and throws herself into his arms, breaking down... again.

Jensen has been like a second father to Maddie ever since she started on Supernatural in Season One, she was just 14 years old.

"Hey Kiddo, it's OK, I'm here" he says quietly as he rubs her back and slowly walks her over to the couch while the officers filed Sebastian in on what would happen next.

Travis is going to be arrested and charged. A Protection Order is also going filed against him which means he can't come within 500 feet of Maddie or contact her in anyway or he will face more criminal charges.

This doesn’t make Maddie feel any better though, she’s now terrified of the man that just the day prior she was in love with, parts of her still are.

TAGLIST

@aussieez