#Man I can't believe it's been so long...not that it's been that long for me but. Still.

[notsodelirious]

everyone seems to think jason is this big bad dom who's kinky and teasing and all that shit

NO??? PLEASE??????

let me tell you, jason as big as he is, he's just as soft and WILL melt the moment your fingers graze him ANYWHERE

bro starts whimpering even at the mere THOUGHT you touching his dick, but would never bring it up cause he's scared you'll reject him and be disgusted

so he puts on his mask, kisses you, teases a bit, and then backs off as if nothing happened

but the moment you do initiate anything with him? he's gone, left, away

he can't help but pour all his love into you, it's almost emotional

he's so touch deprived and needy for any kind of positive attention and affirmation that he has to will himself to not cry when you look at him with so much love in your eyes, much less when you want to show him just how much you love him

AND GOD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE KISS THAT MANS SCARS

HE MIGHT ACTUALLY START CRYING

he has always been so ashamed of them, so scared you'll run off the moment you see him, all of him (especially about the autopsy scar)

so the moment you stay instead? the moment you stare at him with adoration and litter him with kisses, saying how beautiful he looks? IM SORRY, HES GONE

him and the puddle on the floor? same thing

yearning is this mans first language and I stand by it

I've been seeing so much of dom Jay so please let my boy be soft😭

(tim, on the other hand, is exactly what people think jason is, mans a little snarky piece of shit everywhere and always, and i love him as he is)

(also sorry for the rant, got carried away a bit 😅)

absolutely no worries about the rant Anon, I love your way of thinking <3 sorry this took so long but I hope this answers your prompt

Look at me — Jason Todd

synopsis — you love Jason, even if he doesn’t believe you’ll love every part of him

notes — NSFW MDNI pretty please, also so long and so not edited, so apologies (edit — has been proofread, somewhat, but still not edited)

tags — established relationship, mentions of canon death, mild blood and injury, smut as mentioned above, 2.5k words, no use of y/n, gn!reader, Jason calls the reader “baby” and “babe”

The first time you see his scars, it’s completely unintentional. You run cold so you’re constantly turning the heat up in your apartment, far beyond what Jason thinks is reasonable. He complains, but you can’t help but note he’s a big guy, ‘obviously he’s not going to feel as cold as you do’.

His complaints continue, even after you’ve settled down to watch a movie, moaning about how ‘it’s so damn hot in here, it feels like a sauna’, and then proceeds to pull his hoodie off. You didn’t mean to stare as he tugs the offending piece of clothing over his head, but his shirt rids up just the slightest bit. Just enough to reveal a gnarled pink scar across his hip bone and a sharp, clean but raised scar right down his lower abdomen.

You’ve always assumed he has scars—he’s a vigilante; you’ve seen him come home limping more times than you’ve seen him get a full 8 hours of sleep.

Besides, it isn’t as if you’ve never seen any scars on him. He exists in t-shirt and the skin there is littered with scars of all shapes and sizes, from gunshot wounds to knives to mosquito bites. You’ve treated the occasional surface wound on his face or leg from time to time. You had seen his skin and he’s shown himself to you.

But that doesn’t stop you from staring.

This is different.

Only as the realisation that you’ve never seen him shirtless dawns on you, that you start to consider why that is.

You almost reach out to brush your fingers against the raised skin but he manages to dislodge himself from his jumper before then.

He tosses it onto the floor, kicks it out of the way just enough so neither of you will trip on it. He pauses briefly when he notices you, your stare. You tug his shirt down before he can even consider the movement himself, covering the sliver of skin that had been exposed to you.

You sit, in complete silence. You aren’t waiting for anything, you simply have nothing to say as you continue to watch the movie. A shaky hand reaches for yours and you can’t help the warmth in your heart when you feel his lips rest against the back of your hand.

The second time, you don’t even see anything at all. Another movie, a little less attention paid to it, as Jason kisses on you, your cheeks, neck, lips. You laugh softly as you let him, gently running your fingers through his hair, smiling at him as he comes up for air.

“What are you smiling like that for?”

“I just happen to have the prettiest boyfriend.”

You almost miss how his cheeks flush softly in the dark room and you laugh a little louder, pulling him down for a kiss as you straddle his lap. You let your hands roam, feeling his broad shoulders, arms and back as he dissolves beneath your touch, like sugar in warm water. You smile against his lips as he sinks into the sofa, soft panting a little too frantic for the slow-paced make-out session.

“Is somebody flustered?” you joke kindly as you tilt your head to lean against his cheek, hands on his hips and tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Don’t know what to do with yourself?”

“Please…”

You pull back just enough to see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his eyes practically crossing all to look up at you, and watch your face.

“Please?” you repeat softly, as your fingertips brush against his lower stomach, feeling the muscles tense and twitch at the featherlight touch. “What are you asking for, baby?”

Your fingers creep higher, following the raised bumps and lines you can feel on his skin, under his shirt. He shivers, a soft moan slipping past his lips as you reach his pecs. You lay your palms flat against them, taking great joy in squeezing them gently and making Jason’s heart pound faster beneath your hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” you said, sly as you kiss his jaw, down his neck to press your lips to his pulsing jugular.

“I- please, I-“ You can’t help the breathy laugh as you move downwards, leaving tender, open mouth kisses along his throat, sucking his skin here and there, revelling in the soft moans and whimpers that slip from the back of his throat. Almost instinctually, his hips buck against yours—you hum, amused, before grinding back against him, feeling him tremble beneath your ministrations.

“I-“

Your hands continue to feel under his shirt, around his ribs, down his waist, down his sternum-

“Stop.”

You freeze, pull back and look at him.

“Jay?”

“I just-“ he swallows as he looks at himself, then at you, as if debating whether or not he should finish the thought and explain. Eventually, he just wordlessly shakes his head, pulling your hands out from beneath his shirt, “No.”

“Okay,” you kiss his cheek before sliding off his lap to settle beside him. You don’t understand what’s wrong, and as curious as you are, it’s not like you’re going to push him for an answer.

Jason is many things: loyal, kind, loving, a dickhead—but emotionally vulnerable and open is not part of that list. Pushing him to do or say anything leads to a quick dismissal at best. And an outburst at worst.

Jason would come to you in his own time.

That time happened to be a week later.

It’s a long night, he forgets himself. He climbs in through your window, tries to be as quiet as possible. But tonight, he forgets himself, shuts the window behind himself just a little too hard and the frame rattles softly. He doesn’t notice you stir or the soft mumble as you roll onto your side, too focused on trying to shed his leather jacket. Through bleary eyes, you can just about see him move about the room, hearing him curse silently.

The bathroom door closes before the lights flick on. Cupboards open and close, more cursing. You slip out of bed, recoiling a little at the cold floorboards beneath your feet, and pad towards the bathroom, knocking softly before pushing the door open.

“Jay?-“

“Shit-“

You freeze at the sight of each other. His bloody shirt is on the floor, staining a couple of your white tiles a vibrant red. Medical supplies are strewn across the counter, medical gauze packs ripped open and a suture needle halfway set up.

And Jason was…

A large gash spanned from his ribs to his hips—at least from what you could from beneath the bloodied towel he was holding his wound.

“Jesus, don’t you knock-“

“What happened?” you ask instead, rushing forward to help him staunch the bleeding. He groans as you apply pressure but doesn’t push you away, letting you come up close to him. You chance a peek beneath the make shift compress, trying to not pull a face as you convince yourself it’s not as bad as it looks.

“I’ll stitch you up,” you say softly as you look around the bathroom—the suture kit that he had already pulled out isn’t sterile anymore, you’ll have to take out a new one… “Go lie down, I’ll…” You trail off as you look up at him, meet his distant gaze as he stares down at you, almost unseeing. “Jay?”

He blinks and the afterimage of fear you saw flicker across his face is gone, face falling back into something more impassive.

“Lie down,” he mumbles, “Yeah… yeah, sure.”

He slips away from you, most likely a little dazed from the bloodloss. You’re itching to now how he got to that point, who could have gotten close enough to slice him like that but you shelve all those questions for later and begin to prep from wound care instead to go make sure your boyfriend doesn’t bleed.

You return to him minutes later, with an unopened first aids kit and clean hands and kneel beside him, from where he was sat on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to…”

“Horizontal, babe,” you say softly as you nudge him. He settles as you flip open the kit and start cleaning his wound, apologising quietly for every wince and sharp breath.

Stitching him up is simple enough—his pain tolerance terrifies you but you don’t utter a word, just make sure to get the job done as swiftly and painlessly as possible.

You cut the last stitch, roll off your gloves, dump the whole thing on the bedside table—unsanitary and dangerous but your hands are trembling a little too much and your nerves a little too frayed from worry to truly care.

“Okay,” you swallow as you press a piece of clean gauze against his fresh stitches, “Sit up, lemme bandage you up.” Jason complies as best he can, muscles flexing under his skin as he sits up for you and you shuffle closer to wrap clean bandages around his midriff. You try to solely pay attention to the task at hand but now that nobody is in danger of bleeding out, you can’t help but let your eyes wonder across his bare torso. They trace the scars that litter his chest, linger on the large Y, carved from beneath his collarbones, joining at his sternum before disappearing beneath my bandaging.

“Sorry,” he says in a small voice. You tuck the end of the wrap into itself before you look up at him. He doesn’t look back, expression almost sheepish as if he were embarrassed. “I’ll put a shirt on-“

“Don’t.” You climb up onto the bed, straddling his thighs as you cup his face, “You’re gorgeous.”

“Don’t say that…”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“You told me you didn’t finish the ice cream last week.”

Your laugh rings clear in the still bedroom as you lean forward to kiss him.

“Well I’m not lying now,” you whisper against his lips. The kiss is slow, tender, as you both pour your souls into each other. “You scared me shitless.”

“Sorry-“

Your fingertips graze along the large scar on his chest.

“I’d ask you not to do it again but you probably will, won’t you?” He nods as he follows your hand, breathing deepening ever so slightly as you feel him. “Guess I’ll just have to enjoy you while I have you here.”

“Babe…”

“Shh,” you push him down carefully, avoiding his injury. “Just let me take care of you.”

His sighs are soft as he follows your lead, letting himself be pushed and pulled around. You kiss him, in a way only a devotee can worship their deity, lavishing him and devouring him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

You move down his body, from his jaw to his neck. Your tongue runs along the straight scar there—you wonder what happened. You always wonder. But some stories were better kept for quieter nights.

Your lips and tongue brush along his skin, tracing every jagged scar you come across.

“Babe…” he moans breathily as he squirms ever so slightly beneath you, resisting the urge to buck his hips against your body.

“Is there something you’d like, handsome?” You smile as you thumb his nipples, your glee only growing as he whimpers, arching his back into your touch. You pinch them, tug them, make him squirm and pant harder. “You’re so needy, aren’t you?”

“Baby, please-“

You leave hickeys on his chest, following the large scar down between his pecs.

“So desperate.”

“Babe-“

You bite his pec, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make him keen and buck his hips against yours, making you groan in turn. He grinds his covered hard-on against your crotch, seeking any friction he can.

“You need it, don’t you?”

His nodding is furtive and eager and your heart sores while your hand creeps downwards, following down his happy trail and dipping past his waistband.

“What do we say when we want something?”

“Please,” he whimpers as he looks up at you, adoration and desperation pooling in his deep green eyes. Tears brim along his waterline when you finally wrap your hand around his cock, warm and heavy against your palm. “Please. Please, please, baby, please-“

You tug him out of his underwear before you slowly start to pump, running your thumb along the head of his cock, teasing his leaking slit with the pad of your thumb.

“Such a polite boy,” you purr just as you sink lowered, kissing the scar on his hip before nuzzling your cheek against his cock. “Stay still for me, okay baby?”

You don’t give him any more warning before you’re sinking down on him, taking him into your mouth, wrapping your hand around what you can’t reach. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back up, bobbing your head on his dick as he moans and whimpers above you.

“Baby, baby, fuck-“

You hum in response, vibrations running through him making him shudder. His fingers tangle in your hair as suck his dick, gripping you like he’s unsure whether he wants you to stay or go.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, babe-“

You look up at him from beneath teary eyelashes, blinking up at him as if you aren’t choking on his dick. You pull away, making him whine in protest but you don’t cave, continuing to jerk him off.

“You wanna cum, handsome.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, I’m- please.”

You lick the precum pearling from his tip before you swallow him down again, grinning at the soft wail and tightening grip. You feel more than hear the moment he tumbles over edge, thick cum shooting down your throat. You swallow before you can choke, but tears gather in your eyes, leaving you sputtering and coughing slightly when you come up for air.

“Good?” you ask softly as you wipe your face. He mumbles unintelligibly as he nods, strong arms finding your shoulders to drag you closer.

He mumbles something about returning the favour later, but you just laugh quietly as you pull him against you, resting his head against your shoulder, so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say as you run a hand through his hair. Only to pause as you bring a hand up to your mouth, pulling a hair out of your mouth.

Jason freezes before chuckling softly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind hair in my food,” you quip back cheekily, which only makes him blush.

“Jesus.”

You kiss the crown of his head as you snicker.

“Go to sleep, handsome.” You run your hands along his back, tracing idle patterns against his skin, on his collarbones and shoulders.

“They’re from my autopsy,” he mumbles softly as he tucks himself against you. “From when I died…”

You hum, but don’t speak.

Afraid that maybe you’ll uncover the dread blooming in your gut.

You’ll ask later, is what you tell yourself as you watch Jason yawn, and promptly slip in a heavy, restful slumber.

(holy shit was this a doozy to write; I usually never write 2k words in less than 48 hours but I hope your enjoyed <3)

[magicdustsworld]

THE MEETING

Zayne x non mc!reader

Visits to the local cafe down the street is your daily norm; essentially when you have to make important decisions. Yet, who knew that co-incidentally placing the same order together would pave way for the sweetest meet cute?

Tropes: strangers to lovers, fluff.

WC: 2.3k

divider credits - @cafekitsune

“One snow mountain donut, please!”

No sooner did you step in front of the counter and called out your order, did another voice overlaps with yours. You crane your neck—looking up at the customer whose choice happened to match with yours. A man. A shade of warm green encased beneath a pair of spectacles stares back at you; tousled dark bangs falling over his forehead, despite seeming to have been combed, its clear fingers have ran through them. Sharp features and his steely gaze locks on yours, a furrow appearing on his brows moments later.

That's your cue to know that you have been staring for much longer than necessary and you quickly avert your to the front.

Geez... way to make a first impression.

You were about to drown yourself into a river of self inflicted depreciation, when the barista answered from behind the counter. “Uh sorry,” he says, gaze flickering between you and the man, “It seems we only have one left– and we are out of extras.”

Huh? You blink at the barista. Then, following his line of sight, you find the tray of the aforementioned donut placed on the table top; and true to his words, there is only one left. Sitting singularly as a king of nothing on the tray littered with crumbs—but seeming inviting as always.

Man, could this day get any worse?

Although you have had a long day, the exhaustion does not clamour you like it does usually; therefore, it'd be better if the man beside you—

“It's fine, she can have them.”

“What?” You whip around your head so fast you could have inflicted a sprain on your neck. Regardless, you see the man taking a step back and immediately, you speak, “No, its fine. I need to leave now, anyways.”

His attention shifts to you, “I insist.” Raising his palm, indicating you have a go, “You look like you need it more.”

“I possibly can't,” You shake your head, taking a step back. “Besides, you were here before me.”

He hums, “Ladies first.”

“Thank you for the gesture but…” You trail off, looking at the delicacy then back at him, “its fine, I come here everyday so—”

"Believe me when I say I come here everyday as well." He responds, waiting a second before, “So please—”

You stare at him and he stares right back at you. Unlike the neutrality plaguing his features, a forced smile quirks your lips in an attempt to not appear impolite. You can't help it, with the way your bland expression rests, someone might consider you would be planning homicide in your head—therefore, the extra measure. Nonetheless, holding eye contact with the stranger does surge adrenaline through your veins, making you hyper-sensitive to the scene in front of you and yet, you couldn't bring yourself to rip your gaze off of him.

However, to cease the uncertain dwam you and this stranger has found yourself in, the barista speaks again, “Would it be fine, if you both share the donut amongst yourselves?”

.

Since the last ten minutes that you have seated yourself with this stranger in the booth, you both did nothing but stew in silence.

And, yes, stranger.

You decide to call him that because you haven't exchanged names– hell! You both haven't exchanged any words after the barista laid his suggestion to share the donut in half. A proposition both of you happened to have agreed upon; albeit, in quiet solitude.

Your americano brews in your cup, the warmth seeping to your palms as you clutch the material a little too tightly than intended. You can't help it. Agitation crawls up your skin from time to time. Add it with the dread of sitting with someone you barely know at a table—in such a close proximity—and sharing what happens to be one of your favourite dessert, is enough for you to wish you had backed out when the time was right. Yet, it's too late for that. You are here now and you can only hope to drink your coffee in record time and leave after paying in full.

You check your watch — 15:22, and the sun has begun to set past the horizon —or past the vast skyscrapers of Linkon city as you can see. The light filters through the glass on the window pane, falling on the table where white lilies rest in a vase.

For reasons unknown, you muster the courage to look at the stranger sitting across you. His face is angled towards the window, catching the aesthetically pleasing sun-kissed glow. He scrolls on his phone—expression terse as if whatever's on the screen has done nothing but displease him—coffee in another hand, the steam curling in the space between. As if sensing your stare, he looks up—catching your eyes and instinctively you shift your gaze to your lap. Heat creeps from your cheeks to your ears due to the embarrassment of being caught staring. In order to deflect the pressure of the situation, you extend your hand towards the plate of sitting between you both—without looking. And it may have been that he has done the same in the exact moment as a result of which—your fingers brush. A jolt of electricity surges through your veins—making you recoil instantly.

Your stranger in return, pushes the plate towards you and you tug it to yourself in a second before slicing the donut (in what you assume) two equal parts and transferring one to him. He receives it without so much as a word and you recline back on your seat, heaving a deep breath.

No sooner have you begun to shed off the stress coiling in your chest, does your stranger’s grave voice cut through the pressure. “Do I disgust you?”

Instantly your head shoots up, “What?”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, arching his elbow on the table and resting his cheek over his fist. “You like you'd be anywhere but here.”

“No! Absolutely not sir—”

“Zayne.”

You blink, “Huh?”

“My name,” he responds, taking a bite of his half elliptical dessert, “If we are going to be here for awhile, I believe it'd be better if we get rid of the formality.”

“O-oh,” you didn't intend to stutter but your voice had to be a bitch in broad twilight. Feigning a cough under your breath, you continue, “That's a great name.”

Fuck!

Why are you hell bent on making a fool out of yourself today?

Zayne doesn't seem to mind the awkward nature of the question, just briefing a hum. “Is this the part where we are going to pretend this isn't weird?”

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in atmosphere—you merely just stare at him. “Well, if you—”

“It's not a matter of my choice,” he cuts you off but for some reason, you don't mind. His tone is smooth—bordering sarcastic; but you could see the hint of amusement dancing beneath his glasses. “But if I have time make a statement then I have seen diplomatic negotiations continue with less tension than our standoff.”

You snort—completely involuntary; realization sweeps in and you cover your mouth with your hand.

However, a corner of Zayne's lip curls up—so meagre and so faint that if you haven't been sitting so close, you wouldn't have catch it. “So you can laugh. Good– I was wondering if my existence was offensive to you in any regard.”

“You aren't offensive,” you reply, lowering your hand from your mouth. A shy smile tracing your lips, “Maybe a little strict.”

“Strict, you say?”

“Well, that's the only impression I have till now.”

“I made you laugh–” He points out. “that must be enough for you to owe me some appreciation.”

“And you are smug.” The words are out before you have the second to think and the creeping sense of it sounding as an insult gnaws in, “No– shit! I am so sorry, I didn't mean that. Of course, I do owe you–”

“Relax. I am not going to eat you,” Zayne interrupts you again but seeing that you are no where near the needed respite, he continues “Take a deep breath, calm down.”

Although your heart is thundering, you follow his advice—inhaling an amount of air before letting it out slowly.

“Drink some water.”

You do.

After the liquid has moistened your parched throat, you set down the glass after wiping your lips. When you look up at him, he's still watching you—unbothered and composed; just like he was all this time.

“You are tense,” he states, “Is there something bothering you?”

Yes.

“No,” you scratch the back of your neck, “Uh, not a bother truly. just have to make a decision and…”

“And you are afraid that what you are inclining towards may not be the right choice.”

Your eyes meets his again. There's no spark, just a dull weight pressing down on your chest. Are you really so easy to read? You swallow a lump before nodding. “I will be starting my internship soon but my parents want me to return home and work from there.”

“And you want to stay back?”

“Mhm, hm.” you shrug, folding your hands over your chest. “They say people tend to lose connections when they are away from each other. It's best to remain close.”

Zayne listens. Fixating you with a stare as you go on about what has been keeping you stress today. Taking a second, his gaze drifts to the window, his expression marrs as if he is thinking. Then, he turns to you again, “How long have you been living here?”

“Not much, just five years.”

“And did you lose this acclaimed connection with them?”

“No.”

“Then why now?”

“They think, I will.” Leaning back on your chair, you check on your cuticles, “They aren't completely wrong, I have changed and I don't know… What if they are right?”

“Changes are mandotary.” He replies as a matter of fact, sipping a generous amount of his coffee. “And if you really wanted to forget them then you wouldn't be stressing over it in a suburban cafe right now.”

“Yeah but… I don't know the future.”

“No one does.” He pauses for a second. “Bonfires still burn in snowstorms if it's meant to. Same way two books in a shelf can sit side by side and tell completely different stories. Intent matters more than distance.”

The analogies do provoke countless thoughts to run through your mind. Maybe, if you try hard enough, you could garner your parents’ approval as well.

You look at him and a haze of something unknown washes over you. Rising, soft and slow but you don't know what or whom does it belong. But it's here and it's tender, so you don't want it to end. Maybe its the coffee or the fading light, it could very precariously be the jazz playing in the background—but the moment it creates is beautiful. The kind that seems like trouble yet you let it linger long.

“You are awfully good at this,” amazement flickers in your irises when you say it. In order to make a jest, you say, “What? Do you give out advices for free or did I meet a psychologist?”

Zayne huffs; akin to a laugh but he quickly covers it with his monotonous tone. “Close. I am a cardiac surgeon at Akso hospital.”

“Wait– Akso?”

Briefly, his eyebrows furrow, “Is that a problem?”

“No, I just– I never thought you are a surgeon.” You asnwer truthfully. There’s a pause—a lapse in time before you start again, “I am—”

Beep! Beep!

The buzzing of his phone prompts you to stop. Zayne pulls out the device, swiping on the called ID then pressing it near his ear. Merely did you notice the initial G on his screen; however, what you do notice is the subtle changes in his visage—like how his eyebrows have arched, or the stern glint in his green eyes or the way his lips have curved as he speaks on the call and dare you say that you find it attractive.

Lets's stop there…

You aren't even given the moment to stew in your thoughts when Zayne hangs the call, before standing up. “There’s an emergency, I need to leave.” He doesn't even spare you a glance before draping his coat over his shoulders and strolling out of the booth like both of you were merely strangers.

In a way, you are.

You watch him leave; although the words of farewell floats on the tip of your lips, you hold them back. And he doesn't wait for any pleasantries either. Antonymous to what you expected, you do not miss Zayne after he leaves. Still inclined in your posture, the half donut remains untouched on your plate—while his consumed entirely, the same goes for his coffee.

You remain in the booth for another ten minutes, watching as the dusk culminates into night, dousing the city in its darkness. The fork rests on your vacant plate, the cup of Americano holding the last recesses. Reaching for the tissue, you find the tray empty. Your gaze flickers over the table—you were sure, you saw a tissue there before, so where could it be? Then, you halt on the empty plate where the dessert was kept initially. Underneath it lay the aforementioned tissue—seeming to have folded and tucked with caution. You pull it to yourself, opening the edges to find:

The advices aren't for free. I hope to collect my appreciation and your name as dues, the next time.

The Text is short. Nothing extravagant or ground shattering as you have seen being glorified on social media. But you don't need that because you are smiling. Not the usual kind where you have to force yourself to seem pleasant to others but a genuine one that stretches across your lips because the elation in your heart is too much to beat. The type where your teeth peeking out and the type where your jaw hurts from smiling. No- scratch that! its not a smile, its a grin and its one, you are having the first time in months so you don't want it to end.

Involuntarily, your grip tightens over the tissue. You press it to your chest, heaving a deep breath.

Great! Now you do miss him.

[bitchface24-7]

The old man cravings are at it again- (Not like they ever left) I just can't get enough about Silco. ESPECIALLY WITH YOUR LAST POST OMFGG AMAZING!

You already know how I feel about that man and like omg im already foaming at the mouth thinking about him but like- Silco x Chubby/Bigger girl.. Im on my knees and I (NOT TO VENT) could use a little something to believe my favs would love me and my body :3

Thank you and I hope you are doing well! Glad to see you writing and posting again. You always cook!

THE QUEEN OF ZAUN - SILCO X READER

synopsis: you’ve known Silco for quite some time now. You were a Sister of Zaun, you were there when everything went wrong, you were the one to patch Silco up, and you were by his side when he took over the Lanes. Who better to be the one on his arm? His confidant, his companion, his partner… His Queen.

warnings: non-descriptive violence, mentions of the bridge bombing and betrayal, fluff, suggestiveness, pre-established relationship, grinding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, getting caught, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f

p.s. Why'd they make this old man hot??? Everyone enjoys his character now but I was in the trenches back when we only had S1 and EVERYONE HATED HIM 😭😭 LIKE WHERE WERE YALL BEFORE???? Anyways hope y'all enjoy it!

You've been by Silco’s side for as long as you can remember. He's a few years older than you, and you thought he was the coolest guy ever. Especially when he kind of took you under his wing as a Freedom Fighter for Zaun. You all called each other brothers and sisters, it was a found family that you'd kill for. That you'd die for.

Then the bridge explosion happened.

Countless of brothers and sisters dead. Either by the bomb, or by the relentless enforcers. There was so much smoke, so much blood.

It still haunts your nightmares.

What came after was even worse.

You remember being distraught over how you found Silco. His wavy dark hair drenched in toxic water, clinging to his sculpted face. Bruises around his neck and arms, a nasty laceration on his face— blinding one of his teal eyes.

The wound was raw, red, and looked painful. It oozed pus— infected due to the dirty water he was submerged in.

Silco was quiet. His confident, chatty, sarcastic nature no where to be found. His one clear eye was dark, an anger you've never seen before surfacing on his pretty face.

You asked what happened. What did this? Who did this? He only said one word that explained everything. That one word also broke your heart.

“Vander.”

With that, you cared for Silco to the best of your abilities. He's treasured that care, and he will continue to treasure that care till the day he dies.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That was a little over a decade ago, the two of you in your early twenties. Now you've grown. Physically, mentally, emotionally. The two of you aren't the same people you were back then.

Silco is much colder. He's manipulative, he uses his charms to get what he wants by any means necessary. He's got the Lanes wrapped around his pinky finger.

But you've got him wrapped around yours.

You're not as naive anymore. Not as kind or generous. These past few years have hardened you, and have shown you that loyalty and respect are earned; not given.

Gone are the two young dreamers who wore stitched-together clothing, wild hair and even wilder eyes.

Silco dawns form-fitting suits, jackets, and polished shoes. Expensive accessories and even more expensive cigars.

You have been gifted a multitude of fancy gifts. Each one more expensive than the last.

Now, you match Silco to a T. A black slinky dress dawns your curvaceous figure, sharp black stiletto heels, dark red nails with a matching dark red lip, a massive rock on your ring finger, and a two-toned fur coat.

Only the best for his wife.

You're one of his soft spots, Jinx, your adopted daughter being the second.

Many have tried to get in Silco’s good books. Very very few succeed.

Men with too much lip and not enough action.

Women who try to warm his bed, stating they're better than you. They're thinner, more “beautiful”, they're the ones who should be seen on his arm.

Silco can’t help but roll his eye at that. He’ll scoff and look down his nose at them with a dark, “She’s a goddess among men. You're a cheap, fake rendition trying desperately to cling to a station not meant for you. Now leave, before you make it so that today is your last day.”

They always leave the office in tears. Bottom lip wobbling as mascara streaks down their cheeks. You can't help but smirk as they shoot you nasty glares. Your perfectly painted lips are full of smug venom, your wedding ring sparkling as you sarcastically wiggle your fingers goodbye.

The woman always huff, crying a bit harder as they leave.

Pathetic.

You casually sashay into the office and see your love sitting at his desk, one hand rubbing his temple as the other swirls his bourbon.

“Hello darling.”

At your voice, Silco’s head jolts up. A rare smile graces his handsome face. You close the door behind you and lock it.

No need for anymore interruptions.

“Sweetheart, it's nice to finally see you. You've been hiding away all day.”

You sigh jokingly, sitting atop Silco’s desk. Your fur coat slides down your arms and rests in the crook of your elbow, showing off your upper body. Your neck, shoulders, chest, cleavage and upper back are devoured by Silco’s hungry gaze.

“I didn't want to intrude. It seems like you had some... Company while I was away.”

Silco scoffs, messing up his usually perfect hair and takes a big swig of his bourbon, “Unwanted company sweetness. They keep trying, those idiots.”

You laugh, fully dropping your coat onto his desk and sitting in his lap. Silco's hands rest against your full hips as you settle down comfortably.

Your tone is saccharine and purr-like as you play with Silco’s hair and trace his sharp features, “Well… you are the most powerful man in Zaun, and the most attractive. I can understand why they want you so desperately.”

Silco’s smirk makes you shiver lightly, “And how would you know that?”

“Because I was just as desperate a decade ago.”

Silco chuckles, a deep grumbly sound emitting from his chest, it makes your panties damp, “I remember. You following me like a lost little duckling. All doe-eyed and bitten-lipped.”

You pull Silco close by the nape of the neck, and kiss his scarred cheek slowly, leaving behind a perfect red imprint, “Well it worked out in my favour didn't it? I remember finally getting you where I desperately desired. How I rubbed it in to the other Sisters of Zaun.” your tone full of smug satisfaction.

“Yes, we fucked desperately inside a random storage closet, like most young adults do.”

Your laugh is loud, and full of joy. It causes a smile to overtake Silco's face.

“There's one thing I miss from all those years ago.”

“And what's that, sweetheart?”

“Your longer hair… and eyeliner. I miss pulling on it when you ate me out and fucked me. Seeing the eyeliner roll down those high cheekbones was just a bonus.”

Silco lunges forward and kisses you, you swear your lips will be all puffy due to the force used. The kiss becomes messy, as the two of you grind against one another, eventually you pull back and see red all over Silco's face.

His cheeks are flushed red, his face has perfect lip marks, his lips are the same red yours are, and his hair's a mess.

God he looks so good.

“I’ll grow it out again, just for you.”

You devilishly smirk as you kiss him once more, your panties sticking desperately to your messy cunt as you frot against the large bulge inside his pants.

Without breaking the kiss, you unbutton and pull down Silco's pants, and he pushes your dress up and pulls your panties to the side, slipping his hard cock in with no problems. Your drenched pussy welcoming him in gladly.

There's no adjustment period, you start bouncing desperately and Silco fucks up into you simultaneously. It's amazing. His cock hits every sweet spot you have.

It’s a bruising pace, his cockhead keeps squishing not only your g-spot but your cervix as well. It makes your eyes roll to the back of your head as you gasp out in pure bliss.

The coiling in your lower belly is wounding up each second you bounce on your lover's cock. Fuck, he's moulded your pussy to his cock. No other will ever satisfy you the way his does.

It’s over for you when he rubs your engorged clit in a smooth circle, your juices making every movement easier. You cum, moaning loudly. Your pussy clenches desperately onto the big, thick cock inside you, and a small amount of juice spills out. Soaking Silcos’s lap and staining his pants.

He continues to fuck up into you, even though you're slouched into his neck and whining at the overstimulation. He's using you like his very own pocket pussy.

And you are.

One, two, three thrusts later he's balls deep inside you, cockhead kissing your cervix as he cums viciously inside you. You can feel each pump of his cock as your belly warms up. God, you aren't sure you can get off his lap without a nice stream of cum oozing out of you.

The two of you pant, satiated. You indulge in your after-glow until it's interrupted by a noise in the rafters above you two. A few minutes later you hear, “I’m assuming I’m getting a sibling in the upcoming months?”

You and Silco look to one another before shouting in tandem,

“JINX!”

Whoops. At least she didn't see you two going at it. Small blessings, huh?

😏😏😏

Hope y'all enjoyed this. Idk what came over me, I wasn't originally going to write smut yet… here we are!

[rose-writes-for-march]

March for More: Not so Markless After All

MASTERPOST

For as long as Bruce could remember, he'd never had a soulmate. There were no loops or twisting vines inked on skin, no murmur in the back of his head, or a timer on his wrist. By all evidence found, he was alone.

It wasn't anything too tragic. The Markless is a small but welcoming community, dedicated to spreading awareness that not everyone needed or wanted such a bond and Bruce liked being a part of it. However, he couldn't shake the disappointment even with the rationalization that a soulmate would only complicate his nighttime activities.

Which is why, in the middle of a meeting to prepare for the council with the King of another realm, Batman was shocked to see a red string on his finger. It hadn't been there a moment ago when he was talking to Superman, appearing in the moment he'd turned to address Flash, then solidifying as he caught sight of it.

He knew, okay, that the red string was rare. That of all the bonds one could have, a red string was equally the luckiest and unluckiest bond to have. Because if you weren't close—approximately 50 miles at most—then you can't see it. You could go your entire life thinking you're Markless then all of a sudden your soulmate takes a vacation or a road trip. Like Bruce did.

Except, Bruce is in space. In space, where no one knows about or can get to without having prior authorization. So who the hell is his soulmate and why are they getting closer.

In the time it took Batman to find the direction of the string, the rest of the room had gone tense at the Dark Knights' sudden intensity. So, when a body casually floats through the walls of the Watchtower, the heroes are all prepared to fight.

"Ah— oops, didn't mean to spook ya'll!" A midwestern voice accompanied by an undertone of whispering that Batman can't make out calls from the body. A man, with white hair floating like clouds and a face pale like snow with only startling Lazarus green eyes to accentuate. Batman is intrigued, wary, and uneasy all at once.

"Who are you?" He calls out, eyes avoiding the red he knows is there. The man startles, eyes shooting across the room to find Batman, then stills. Oh, he hadn't noticed, then.

There's a long stretch of silence before a laugh falls from the mans lips—don't look at them, don't—as he removes himself from the wall. "Oh, this is hilarious," the man calls out, "I can't believe this is why Clockwork wanted me to hear you guys out, that fucker."

He shakes himself off and now that he's standing— floating upright, Batman can see the man wears an outfit of black and white, a bodysuit that looks eerily like a hazmat with a black cape overtop. The cape, as it flairs out behind the man, reveals a void of black that is splattered in the expanse of swirling stars and galaxies.

"I'm Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms and all that jazz. And you, poor unfortunate soul, are stuck with me it seems."

It sounded like a threat to Batman's hard-wired brain, but in the King's sickly green eyes was a sense of trepidation. The council had been planned with much of the same feeling—like the King didn't know if he could trust the word of humans from a world that was actively hunting and experimenting on his kind.

Bruce, in some strange way, thought it reminded him of his kids. Of Dick, who had lost his parents and home, and had found a place with Bruce to heal. Of Jason, who was so bright and so good, but couldn't find what he needed with Bruce. Of Tim, hardworking and desperate to save anyone he could, no matter what. Of Damian, angry and confused that Bruce wanted him to be a kid for once.

"Hm." Batman can feel the smile on his face, can feel the stares of his confused comrades, but that doesn't matter. King Phantom is another in a long line of people that need Batman's help—what right does he have to walk away now.

[redwinelew]

TO A VERY GOOD LAWYER

pairing matt murdock x female afab reader (no part 2 requests pls)

summary you and matt spend the night together after he represented you in your case

warnings set during daredevil born again. 18+. smut. fingering. praises. yearning. mention of drugs & (inaccurate portrayal of) insomnia. english is not my first language. not proofread.

author's note sorry to my followers who are mostly here for f1 content but i'm trying to get back into writing fics so i think i will turn this into a multifandom blog from now on ✌🏽

gif credit | masterlist

"and the jury finds the defendant.... not guilty."

in a few short days that you've known matt murdock, you find that he is a determined man. once he has set his mind onto something, it'd be very hard to convince him to do otherwise. he proved this by telling kirsten mcduffie that he wanted to represent you in your court case after you have been falsely accused of drug trafficking. though you once did in the past, not only dealing but taking as well, you have left that world, went to rehab and is now sober. you were careful enough not to leave any trails that could be lead back to you. but this time, you were framed. foolish of you to think that those people you were involved with would let you go that easily. and you were foolish enough to think that they'd believe you when you say that you would keep everything from the authorities.

you were going to accept the fact that you might never step foot outside of those tight four walls you were going to call home soon, to never feel the heat of the sun on your skin again, when you the door clicked. matt showed up, introducing himself and you held your breath. you only spoke four words, "i can't afford you". eyeing his blue suit and briefcase, they indicated that his service won't be cheap. but he quickly dismissed your concern, already sitting in front of you. and the next words that came out of his mouth were a promise that will get you out of this mess.

and now you are a free woman, all thanks to him.

"woo!" you cheer as the champagne bottle pops. matt smiles as you pour it into both your glasses. he was kind enough to let you go through his cabinet. to even invite you to his apartment and cook for you after the case is done.

"should we toast? i think we should toast!" you answer your own question, which makes him chuckle again. it feels like a reward to get to see this real version of you, an 180 contrast to the terrified one before this.

"to your freedom." he says, raising his glass.

"and to a very good lawyer."

your glasses clink and you both sip your drink. you take this opportunity to cast a glance at his apartment. he knows how to take good care of his home despite his disability. not a speck of dust can be seen. his kitchen was quickly sorted out after he cooked dinner for the two of you earlier. his movement were smooth though he was still careful around the stove and knives. you'd be lying if you say you were not impressed. some men even with all their five senses working, are not as efficient as he is.

"how are you feeling?" he asks, moving away from his island to the couch.

you sit beside him, one leg tucks under the other while leaving a respectful distance between the two of you. your champagne glass has been put aside on his coffee table. you tilt your head up, staring into one specific spot on his ceiling, thinking. not long after that, a smile grows on your face as you look back at matt, his unfocused eyes behind those red-tinted glasses waiting patiently for your answer.

"i feel great. relieved mostly. and i feel free. because i'm no longer looking at jailtime. and it's all still very bizarre to me that we won. all thanks to you, of course."

no longer do you have to look over your shoulder, waiting for trouble to come. justice has been served and you are free from your past. free to start a new life in the busiest city in the world.

"i just don't know what to do now. i mean i know i should try and get my apartment back. find a new job but it all seems very overwhelming. like i don't know where to start. i don't even know if i can do this. i know it won't be easy. people are not very kind to former addicts, you know? even when we're trying our best to be sober." you add, choosing to be honest about what has been worrying you since you were freed.

"well, i can't say i understand how you feel or what you're going through but take it slow. you can do this. take your time. it won't be easy but i've been doing this for a long time. i've seen my former clients get back to the top after their cases. i've seen them in a place better than they ever were. you can do it too. i know you can. i believe in you."

then matt reaches out to place his hand on top of yours on the couch, interlocking your fingers together

"make me proud, okay?"

your heart flutters in your chest. his hand decorated in blue-green veins feels big and warm, covering your small one completely as he gently squeezes it.

the way he's talking to you, with that deep timber of his voice you have begun to like a little too much, it shouldn't feel this intimate. the room suddenly feels too small, too hot and for once you're grateful that he's blind or else he would see how easily he has made you flustered. your mind starts to race with forbidden thoughts about him that you shouldn't even have dared to think about.

unbeknownst to you, matt is able to hear the change in your demeanor. your pounding heart, the sharp intake of your breath, how your body freezes at his words and only then he realizes what he's doing. quickly matt removes his hand from yours.

"oh, i'm— sorry." he mutters an apology before clearing his throat.

you shake your head, forcing a smile knowing he cannot see it. "it's fine."

matt fixes himself, manspreading on his couch. his rubs his thigh awkwardly, before taking the opportunity of this awkward silence to read you. you've changed your position, now leaning forward. you are fidgeting with your fingers in an attempt to calm your racing heart. and then he feels it, smells it. the way you're pressing your thighs together and that sweet scent of your arousal.

matt inhales shakily, nails digging into his own skin.

fuck.

"you want more champagne?" he offers, because he himself needs it right now.

you snap out of your daze. the silence lingers as you process his offer. this might be a bad idea. you never liked being drunk but god, you'd take anything to get your mind out of the gutter right now.

your voice trembles as you confirm. "yes. thank you."

he takes your glass without another word, navigating back to his counter. the champagne pours smoothly into your glass. he walks back to you and you murmur a thank you as you take your glass back.

matt reverts back to the kitchen. he can't let himself be too close to you right now. not after knowing what he knows. so instead he pours the last bits of champagne into his own glass. exhaling deeply, matt leans back against the island, before sipping his drink.

however hard he tries, he just can't stop thinking about your reaction. the fact that you're sitting there, pressing your legs together in an attempt to relieve yourself, wanting him, and he can't do anything about it because he respects you too much and the consequences of his colleagues finding out about this would be too severe.

"you uh.... do you have anywhere to stay tonight?" matt breaks the silence, finally popping the question. he never thought he'd want you out of his face as soon as possible but this is for the best of you both.

you look up, and the answer is easy.

"no. i don't." you shake your head as you reply. your family cut ties with you after you got into drugs and you don't have any ride-or-die friends that are willing to let you crash on their couch for a few days.

pause again. an idea pops in his head. a terrible one and matt clenches his jaw. before he could even stop himself, his body already betrays him, facing you from the kitchen. "well, you're welcome to stay however long you want."

your eyes widen at his offer. you blink, thinking that you've heard him wrong.

"w-what? i.... what about you? where will you sleep?"

he smiles softly. "i'll take the couch. it's fine, really. after what you've been through, i figure you'll need the rest anyway. take the bed."

you are left dumbfounded. you stare down at his couch you're currently sitting on. matt is tall, and this couch doesn't look that much comfortable for him to sleep in. you also think about the fact that you'll be sleeping on his sheets, surrounded by his scent everywhere and immediately you know that this is a terrible idea.

"n-no, i can't.... you've been too kind to me, mr murdock. i can't possibly kick you out of your own bed."

matt can't help the chuckle from leaving his lips. you're being too polite, as if you're not currently wet for him.

matt knows this is literally the opposite of what he needs right now. he can already imagine the sleepless nights. thinking about you tuck away safely under his duvet, wearing his shirt, his scent on you, with you lusting after him, it'd be too much for him too handle. but what's worse is leaving you to sleep in the streets.

"no. you're a guest. a woman. and everybody loves to brag about how much of a gentleman i am. i need to live up to my reputation."

the sound of his laugh sends tingles down your spine and straight to your core. you swallow. if only he knew how much you want him right now. his laugh sets your body on fire as a familiar warmth pools between your legs. you shift awkwardly on the couch, trying to will it away.

"you don’t have to pretend to be a gentleman for me, mr. murdock."

pause.

his jaw clenches at your words. hands gripping the glass in his hand a little too hard. matt wonders if it just slips, like you didn't even think about your words or if you're well aware of the implications.

it's a mixed of both.

you didn't think before you speak, but you're also glad. because seeing the way his jaw tightens at your words, the muscles under that white shirt tensing, and how the glass in his hand might just shatter soon confirmed your theory. he wants you too. and matt can't be that blind to not notice your attraction toward him. but the fact that he's restraining himself from doing anything about it frustrates you. the case is done. he is no longer your lawyer. nothing is tying you two together, if that's what he's so worried about.

you want to break him.

"it's fine, really. take the bed." he chuckles and repeats himself again, trying to act casual. "and stop calling me "mr murdock". it's matt."

"matt." you test it in a whisper-y tone, letting his name roll off your tongue. it sounds good. but you can't help yourself from imagining it being said in a more breathless, desperate tone.

matt swallows, hearing how your heart is pounding again and it's almost too hard to ignore.

"you need to get some sleep. it's late." he says, hoping that the conversation would end now.

"i.... i can't sleep." you choose to confess.

"why? insomnia?" matt guesses as he washes his empty glass.

you finish your drink before nodding and walking over, bringing your own to him.

"y-yeah.... something like that."

matt can feel your presence, can barely stand how close you are to him but he doesn't move, doesn't turn to look at you. but you can see how his chest rises and falls quicker than usual, having you just inches away from him again.

his fingers brush against yours as the glass exchanges hand but your answer distracts him from reacting to your touch.

"wait, seriously?" his eyebrows meet in a knot as matt turns, fully facing you now.

you can't tear your eyes away from him, as he stands so close to you. the height difference feels overwhelming. he's so much bigger than you, but it only makes you want him more.

"y-yeah, seriously. i.... i have trouble sleeping. it's like i can't turn off my brain."

"i.... i have no idea."

you chuckle nervously. "well, it's not relevant to the case so...."

"for how long?" matt inquires, the frown on his face grows deeper. the way you're casually admitting to this makes him feel uneasy. he can't even imagine how you still manage to function with the lack of rest. not to mention, the constant fear of the people from your past catching up to you and your court case. it must have been hell.

the concern in his voice makes your heart flutter. you have no idea how long it has been since anyone truly gives a shit about you. and you know you shouldn't read into his question too much but this feeling is nice. to know that at least someone cares.

"weeks. months, even. i've tried everything. counting sheep, meditation, even sleeping pills. nothing works. i just... i just can't sleep. i thought it was a withdrawal symptom but i've been sober for a while now and it just keeps getting worse."

matt's heart breaks hearing your answer. how your voice is laced with desperation for just a few minutes of rest. how you sound like you're already giving up at finding a cure for your insomnia.

"i'm sorry." his warm hand wraps around your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and your breath hitches in your throat. a simple skin to skin contact but it sets your entire body in flames. the way his hand covers your arm, so much bigger than yours, the warmth radiating from it. it feels so good. it's electrifying.

and matt, he didn't even realize he was doing it. it's like a reflex to him, this need to offer you some sort of comfort.

"can't imagine what it must have felt like for you."

your lips tremble, trying not to tear up in front of him. not here, not now, not like this.

"it... it can get really lonely."

"well, i might know a thing or two about it."

you pause. "being lonely... you understand it?"

matt smiles. one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "more than you know."

you falter, his reply catching you off guard. it's odd to think that this man in front of you, this confident, charming, attractive man, feels lonely. but the hint of sadness in his voice makes your heart ache. you don't know what's happened to him but the desire to comfort him and the desire to have him are now equally strong.

so many things happening right now that you never even thought would happen. well, yes of course you found matt attractive from the moment you laid eyes on him but with your case going on, you didn't have time to care. your life is more important that how devilishly hot your lawyer is.

but now that you're free, that you're finally alone with him, nothing is stopping you from taking in his handsome features. even in the dim lighting, you can see the way his stubble emphasizes the sharp edges of his jaw.

you inhale deeply, before taking a brave step toward him.

matt breathes your name. his hand never left your arm but his fingers tighten slightly on your skin. a silent warning. because he knows all too well what you're trying to do.

a shiver goes down your spine when you hear him say your name in that breathy tone. it sounds better than what you've imagined and you find yourself wanting to hear it more. and the feeling of his hand on your arm, the way his fingers grip you, it's enough to drive you crazy. the warning in his voice is clear as day, but you push through. you want him too much to care. you know he wants you too. you both needed this, only he's too stubborn to admit it.

you choose to ignore his warning, closing the distance between the both of you.

matt rasps your name again, only firmer. his voice is strained, his warning is clear. his grip on your arm tightens to the point where it almost stops you in your tracks but you push through, especially when he makes no effort to move away from you.

you're right in front of him now, your body flushed against his as his back pressed against the counter. his hand on your arm falls as you slowly unbutton his shirt from the bottom. already you could feel the heat of his body, how goosebumps appear on his smooth skin shivers as you leave featherlight touches across his abs.

"please..." you whisper, your voice nearly a moan.

his jaw clenches harder as you place your hand on his chest. his heart is pounding beneath your palm, and it's hard to ignore the way your touch affects him. he tries to keep his resolve, to not give in to his desires, to push you away, but he can't seem to do it.

"you need to stop... this isn't... we shouldn't..."

you look up to meet his eyes, though knowing that he couldn't see you but you could feel his gaze burning into you. you can feel his racing heartbeat, his breathing quickening. he's trying so hard to resist. to be a good, honorable man. to respect the boundaries. you can see how much he's struggling. but you don't care. not when you both know that you need this. this carnal desire to have each other begging to be satisfied.

you huff out in slight frustration. "why? because i'm your client?"

"yes."

his answer only makes you unbutton his shirt faster, pushing it behind him before raking your nails across his skin. you do not want to question how a blind man like him manages to achieve such a perfectly sculptured body.

he groans, feeling your hand on his chest. he can hardly think straight, drunk on your touch. his lust is starting to cloud his judgement. this is a battle he knows he won't win. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to pull you closer, to give in to the need that's coursing through his body. but he tries to fight it, still trying to be a good boy though gods know he's anything but.

"i don't care." all your rational thoughts have fade away, replaced by the overwhelming desire that you have for him.

"fuck...." he groans, throwing his head back in a bliss as he feels you pressing yourself against his hardening bulge. his hands instinctively go to hold you by your hips, the urge to guide you as you grind against him is strong.

matt has always been trying to be a good catholic boy. he's not one to curse, except in bed. but in only a couple days of knowing you, you have made a different man out of him, one that he doesn't even recognize himself.

"stop trying to be a gentleman. i told you, you don't have to pretend in front of me. i can take whoever the real you are."

matt is nice. his smile is charming. he always opens a door for you despite his disability, treats you like a person instead of a criminal like every other attorney or police officer. and you know how all these seem to be the bare minimum but in a world full of assholes who called themselves men, he is a diamond in a haystack.

"you don't understand. i'm.... i'm not a good man."

you could guess. everybody has a dark past. a self-proclaimed gentleman who admits to be lonely like him must have gone through something life-changing. but you couldn't care less in the slightest. you're not interested in who he was or his past. you just want him. this version of matt in front of you right now. this doesn't even have to be more than just you two having sex. you don't want to worry when tomorrow comes.

you study his face and see the pain, the loneliness, the desire behind his red-tinted glasses. you crave nothing more than to take away all his pain. you want to make him feel good, to make him feel loved and you want him to make you feel the same.

"me neither." you say, reminding him of how you two meet. in a police station, with your wrists cuffed to the desk.

"your past doesn't define you. you're a good person to me."

those words shouldn't have affected you so much but they do. those words of reassurance mean more than he could possibly know. he doesn't judge you, doesn't look at you like you're dirty and tainted. this Is the validation you've been desperate to hear.

"yours doesn't define you either, matt." you reach up and place your hand on the side of his face, your thumb softly stroking his cheek. "so stop letting it control you and just focus on what you want right now."

matt releases a deep breath. what he wants, or rather who he wants, is you. and you both know this. you could feel his muscles finally relaxing, the tension of his body slowly goes away and replaced by a deep lust for you.

"fuck it." and he finally crashes his lips against you.

it should be embarrassing how quickly you moan into his mouth but the thought is now so far from your mind thanks to the way his lips move against yours. he kisses you hungrily but with deep precision, like he's been thinking about this for a while. his lips dancing with yours in a perfect rhythm and you let him guide you through the flow.

matt breaks the kiss for a split second to remove his glasses before going back. one hand holding you by your hip, the other by the side of your hair, brushing it down slightly before going down to wrap his fingers around your throat. he doesn't close his grip, just holding you in place but your knees instantly go weak by the action. it's smooth without hesitation. he's not even doing much yet but it already have you a whimpering mess under him.

still with his lips on yours, matt steps forward, making you move in reverse toward his bedroom. you try not to break the kiss and turn around just to make sure that neither of you would be bumping into something but he seems pretty confident in his steps so you let him guide you.

along the way, you two discard each other's clothes. you push his white shirt until he falls to the ground, leaving matt with nothing to cover his upper body, making it easier for you to run your nails across his hard abs.

doing the same to you, matt only stops when you and him finally reach his bedroom to break the kiss and pull up your shirt. his hand then undo the clip of your bra with ease before his lips find yours again. you break the kiss for a split second to see where the bed is which is right behind you. you move in reverse, pulling him by his belt with you before stumbling backwards onto the mattress.

matt has his hands on both sides of your head to hold himself upright while you widen your legs to make space for him in between them before locking your ankles around his waist.

you claw on his chest, holding on for dear life as he lets himself loose, hands roaming to memorize every curves and dips of your body. his lips leave yours, now assaulting your every inch of your neck followed by a few light bites on your collarbone. you had to dug your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress the moans from tumbling over when he grinds his hardness against your clothed sex.

"don't hold back. you wanted me so bad, now let me hear you." matt whispers into your ear before biting your earlobe. the deep, perfect timber of his voice shoots straight down your core. it sounds better than what you have been fantasizing for the last hour. following his commands, you make yourself heard by him. every moans, every whimper, whines and mewl. his name falling from your lips in a most sinful way possible.

his lips trail down to your chest, taking one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth. his thumb brushing your other nipple, squeezing your tit. he can't get enough of how perfectly you tit fits under his palm. you moan, running your finger through his hair to get his mouth impossibly deeper into your chest. his mouth works its magic, sucking and swirling its tongue and gently biting your hardened nub before giving the other the same attention.

matt's focus then shifts to your jeans, eager to get rid of it. you kick it off followed by your panties, not caring where they land on his bedroom floor. he inhales shakily, his heightened sense catching the sweet scent of your dripping cunt in the air.

he pushes your leg apart and caresses your knee first before purposely slowing down his movement until he reaches your inner thigh. his middle and ring fingers then massages across your folds, and a moan left his lips at how you're absolutely soaked for him.

"fuck, you're so wet, sweetheart."

you whimper, buckling your hips for more friction, to hear more of that pet name from him.

"f-for you." you admit, no longer hiding as you shamelessly widen your legs for him, your desperation for him on full display. you try to grind against his hand but his other one holds you by your hip, giving it a light squeeze.

"shhh.... be good. behave." he says it so casually, barely above a breath but it already makes your pussy clench around nothing at how he manhandling you. it's something so incredibly sexy and yet frustrating at the same time, how he manages to be calm though his facial expression doesn't convey the same.

"please.... mhmm—"

matt listens, circling your clit with the same two fingers in a steady pace. not so fast to make you cum for him by doing just this though he'd love to find some other time to make that a reality, and not too slow that he's depriving you of your need.

"i know, i know...." he leans his forehead against yours. he listens to every micro expression of yours, studying just what makes you click. your breathlessness, the way your toes curl, your nails digging into the back of his neck and arm.

then matt suddenly stops but not for long. you don't even get to take a breath as he slips a finger smoothly inside you.

"f-fuck...." a broken moan escapes your lips, already feel so full of his digit.

matt moans, feeling how tight and warm you are, better than how he imagined it. his patience is starting to run thin, finding it difficult to not withdraw his hand and bury himself inside you instead.

"soaking my finger already and i barely even touched you." he grunts, rocking his digit in and out of you. his thrusts are and careful but not slow. he scissors inside you, stretching you out, just how he wants you. his heightened sense helps him to immediately find the perfect rhythm that would make you melt under him.

"oh fuck— fuck, fuck— thank you. thank you—"

that earns another grunt from him. you're so sweet, so polite, thanking him like that. it's only fair that he rewards you with another one of his thick digits.

"oh— fuck—" you mewl, clenching around his fingers. your legs are already shaking and he's just gotten started.

the palm of his hand hits your clit in each pumps, stimulating you further and earning a whine from you. matt just knows what he's doing, as if you two had done this before. if you could even gather a coherent thought, you'd say that it's impressive how effortless the way he's drawing those sounds from you that you didn't even think you could make.

"you're so beautiful like this. so good for me." matt praises, and you wanted to argue that he couldn't see you so he wouldn't know but the tip of his fingers start hitting that sweet spot inside you, making you lose all of your vocabulary. and besides, he's lawyer. you wouldn't want to argue with one. you know you wouldn't win.

"m-matt.... matt— i'm—"

you don't even get to tell him that you're close, he's already pulling out his fingers out of you.

"no...." you pant. your legs are wobbly already, shaking from just his fingers.

"patience, sweetheart. i want you to come on my cock. now, open."

and you listen, opening your mouth to taste yourself on his fingers. you hum, and the vibration shoots straight down to his cock. you coat his digit with your saliva and sucking them a little bit, dreaming of how it'd be if his fingers was his cock instead. he can't see you and yet you find yourself keeping an eye contact on his unfocused pupils.

matt growls, before pulling out his fingers from your mouth. he gets off the bed, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his pants. your lips parted at the sight. he's bigger than any man you have ever taken. thick and long and god he's already hard. it's crazy to think that you made this this way, how you both are equally desperate for one another.

"it's okay." matt reassures you as he crawls back to you, giving you a few pecks on the lips.

"we'll go slow, okay? i'll be gentle." he smiles, kissing you deeply. you nod, breathing shakily as he positions himself in between your legs.

"wait." you stop him, and matt freezes.

"what is it? did i do something wrong?" he asks, worried that he might have accidentally hurt you without realizing.

"no. just— let me." you gather some of your wetness from when he was working you open with his fingers earlier to smear it on his tip.

matt growls at the action. if his cock could grow any harder, it would. "fuck, sweetheart. you're killing me."

you grin, before he grabs you by your throat to kiss you deeply as his hand pumps his cock before pushing you gently back onto the mattress.

"let me make you feel good now." he says it like a promise, before slowly pushing himself inside you.

"ah— fuck. matt—" you mewl, your wall tensing around his length.

"it's okay. i'll go slow. relax for me, darling." he says, spitting on your entrance for more lube.

it feels like forever, before he's finally fully inside you. matt stays like that for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. he pushes your hair aside, his lips travel all across your face in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation inside you. you're panting already just from having his cock buried deep inside you.

"i got you." matt says in a whisper, and you trust him. you trusted him with your future, your life, and now you trust that he will make you feel good.

"fuck...." you moan. he's going slow, finding his pace but the thickness of his cock is already enough to make you see stars.

"m-matt— so big—" a mewl spilling out of your lips. you cling onto his arms, your nails creating crescent-shaped imprints on his skin.

"i know, i know." matt replies but it was far from a smug tone. "but you're taking it so well. such a good girl for me."

fuck.

"please.... s-say it again." usually you'd hate to beg for men. you hate how pathetic it makes you feel. but not with matt. you find yourself willing to do anything to earn those praises again. to make him proud, like he said.

you see how his expression slightly falters, sensing what you need. his knuckles caress your cheekbones softly and you can't help but lean into his touch.

"you're such a good girl for me. you're doing so good. taking me so well. i'm so proud of you."

fuck, fuck, fuck.

you've slept with plenty of men in your life, especially when you were dealing and taking drugs. you were so desperate in wanting to get high that you were willing to spread you legs to any dealer who promised to spare you a few pills. some kept their promises. some were only using you for their pleasure.

but with matt, you weren't expecting anything less. somehow you knew he wouldn't be treating you like those men did. and you were right. he's being tender, gentle. he keeps his hands on either side of your head, as if he's afraid he'd break you further if he touches you. he's fucking you like you're a fragile little doll and you're starting to get tired of it.

"more." you manage to say in a steady voice.

"what?"

"i need more."

"but—"

"you s-said..... that i'm taking you well. i can take more. please."

matt groans. how could he refuse you, when you sound so sweet, begging him like that? when you look so pretty sprawl underneath him like this?

so matt delivers. he listens to your reaction to find out what exactly you need. his hips slam against yours harder, deeper with a slightly faster pace. and it's perfect. in a minute you have become a mess underneath him. the way your eyes flutter in pleasure, having difficulties to keep them open, how he knocks the breath out of you.

matt takes his hand to press his thumb down on your lower belly with his other fingers on your waist, stimulating you further while getting to feel just how deeper and far up your guts he is, pulling out a whimper from you.

"fuck— j-just like that—"

matt could feel you getting close to your peak, but you're not quite there yet. with his one hand still pressing down your belly, he takes his other hand to rub your clit at a steady pace. you moan loudly, back arching at the new sensation.

"yes, yes, yes, yes— fuck. oh my god, yes— just like that—"

god has blessed matt with having a reincarnation of aphrodite underneath him, drunk on his cock and he doesn't understand just what he did to get so lucky tonight. he couldn't get enough of you. your expressions, knowing that this must probably be the first time since your dealing days that someone is pleasuring you like this. and even then, matt doubts any of those men could make you feel like he does right now. your body is perfect. those sounds that you're making are addicting and matt wishes he could do something to have them playing on repeat in his brain.

"m-matt—"

"i know, i know, sweetheart." you don't even have to say it, he could already feel your orgasm approaching from miles away and matt does everything in his power to bring it to you. his fingers continue flicking your clit, his thumb presses down on your lower belly for that extra stimulation, and his tongue never stops from telling you all the things that you been craving to hear. how beautiful you look in this moment, how good you're being for him. how much he wants to feel you milking his cock.

"come for me. let me feel you soaking my dick."

that's all it takes.

your body shakes as a wave of ecstasy washes over you. the scream you let out is enough to earn complaints from his neighbour the next morning. your brain goes numb, empty. the only thing you could think of is just matt. your chest heaves as you pant. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he continue rocking his hips, chasing his own high now.

matt grunts as he gets close to his own release. nearing there, he pulls out, hand pumping his cock as he spills himself on your stomach. you moan, unable to gaze away from how hot he looks right now, jerking his dick off with his head thrown back in pleasure. before collapsing besides you.

silence, but not for long before matt wraps his arm across your waist, pulling you close and burying his face in the junction of your neck. he's panting as well, exhausted certainly. you smile, caressing his arm with your eyes closed.

"not letting you sleep on the couch tonight." you whisper.

"god, i hope so." he replies, and you laugh.

[emeraldserenade]

I have an idea for something to write. Joaquin, reader, Sam and Bucky work on a mission together (Joaquin and reader are in a long term relationship). Chaos ensues. I was thinking something similar to that club scene and shoot out scene in F&TWS.

In The Club ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you agree to go on a mission with Sam, Bucky and Joaquín, not knowing what's in store.

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, they all have different names for the mission, reader is treated as an object by the men at the club, barely edited

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This is my last request, please send in more. I love knowing what you guys want to see and it helps me keep my creative juices flowing.

Sorry if this isn't what you thought it would be, I only kinda remember the club scene from F&TWS.

➽──────────────❥

A simple mission, that was all it was. Sam and Bucky promised you that was all it was when they came to get you and Joaquín for it.

"I promise, y/n. It is a simple in and out," Sam told you, you had a feeling he was lying to you as soon as he told you that you needed to be wearing a short dress. "It's just to fit in, we can't have them thinking we don't belong there," Sam reassured you, his nice tailored suit made you think twice about his words.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"You lied to me," you weren't mad, you were exasperated. Sam had just told you that you were to act like their toy that the three just pass around. You wanted to leave, to tell Sam to fuck himself and that you wouldn't be doing this. But you were already in the plane and you knew how important this mission was, so you stayed in your seat

"I know, and I'm sorry but I knew you weren't going to say yes, and there was no way in hell that Joaquín would say yes," Sam tried to make himself sound better but you just stared at him, Joaquín practically vibrating with how hard he was trying to keep his anger back.

Joaquín was known to share, but not you. If another man so much as looked in your direction, he was watching them and making sure they weren't trying to take what's his. The only thing that was truly holding back Joaquín's anger, was the fact that one of your hands were on his that was resting on your thigh and the other was gripping his forearm of the same arm.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You hated it, so did Joaquín but you did what you were told. You stuck around the three, mostly Joaquín and the backstory that while you were 'used' by all three, you were Joaquín's girl spread like wildfire. Sure, they didn't know your real names but they loved the way you three interacted. The club goers loved the narrative, they loved the way that while you were with either Sam or Bucky, Joaquín was always watching you. They loved watching his jaw clench and his hands ball into fists.

"I don't believe you," one particularly annoying goer said, he had been watching Joaquín look ready to murder Sam and Bucky as you had to hang off of them. "Let me kiss her," he looked towards Sam who looked down at you. Your eyes darted to Joaquín, you saw that he was ready to yell or fight. "What's wrong, don't want to prove me right, Theo? She's not just for the taking?" The man taunted Sam, using his fake name for the mission. You held back a cringe at his words, your body becoming tense.

"Look, I might use her but she's Diego's. You gotta ask him permission before you do anything to her," Sam quickly lied and you moved over to stand next to Joaquín, his arm automatically wrapping around your waist.

"Then, Diego, let me kiss your girl," the man stepped closer and Joaquín just stared him down.

"Nah, I don't let random men touch her. You gotta prove yourself worthy of my girl," Joaquín told him, his arm tightening around you.

"Liam, you got a say in this?" The man looked over at Bucky who had been silently watching the whole ordeal. He had told you, and you think Joaquín by how he didn't seem to mind you being around Bucky so much, that he wouldn't let anyone touch you. He didn't care if your cover was blown, he would keep you safe.

"Hey, Maya is Diego's girl. I don't know what you want me to do, Jacob," Bucky held his head high, the gloves on his hands made a slight squeaking noise as he tightened his fists.

"Well then," Jacob rounded to face you and Joaquín again but was met with Joaquín's fist to his face. You heard the sickening crunch of his nose breaking and gasped softly. Another pair of arms surrounded your waist and you squeaked in surprise. Joaquín spun back around and pulled you away from the random man who thought using this slight chaos to his advantage was a smart move.

"Aren't you The Winter Soldier?" The man who you had just been pulled away from looked at Bucky and you knew your cover was blown.

"Shit," you whispered, moving closer to Joaquín as you two shuffled to Sam and Bucky.

No more words were exchanged as the four of you ran, gun shots and fights broke out. Chaos was everywhere and you sighed, you knew Joaquín was pissed at what happened and hoped that it didn't effected that he wanted to help the world.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Look, y/n, I'm sorry," Sam looked over at you as you sat on the plane next to Joaquín.

"It's fine, it wasn't your fault," you waved him off and gently squeezed Joaquín's hand. He was mostly asleep, having stopped with Bucky to fight off some of the men that followed the four of you running. Sam had gotten you to the plane and you two waited for the others to get back.

"Next time, I promise I won't throw it in you last minute," Sam told you and you looked down at the sleeping form of Joaquín.

"Hopefully that next time isn't for another 9 months," you told Sam, he got it right away and looked over at Joaquín.

"Does he know?"

"Yeah, he does," you smiled.

"Congrats," Bucky called from his seat, you thought he was asleep but you were wrong.

"Thanks, Buck," you called over softly. Joaquín, in his sleep, moved his hand to rest over your stomach and a smile spread across your face.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[resident-idiot-simp]

Another vampire idea

Logan knew there was something off about Wade. He couldn't pinpoint it exactly but it was something. He smelled like death and Logan would assume it was cancer but...it didn't quite smell like that either.

Logan had had answer when he went back with him to his universe. The idiot as soon as he walked into the appointment went to the fridge and pulled out blood bags. Logan just watched on in utter shock.

"Uh.." Logan trailed off. Wade just turned back to him and smiled. Logan's brain finally caught onto the fangs... holy shit

Althea was cursing him out as Wade continued on his task if warming up the blood.

"YOU OLD BASTARD WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!" Al yelled

Wade just rolled his eyes, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You're probably right but what the FUCK?!" Al continued.

Logan just watched the two go back and forth in shock. Wade eventually had to stop bitching as he went to drink the blood. Logan was just starting dumbly as the man he had spent days with seemed to relax.

Logan hadn't even noticed Wade had been tense before... Al seemed to realize he was occupied and turned to glare in his general direction.

"Who are you?"

Logan intruded himself and explained the situation all while he watched Wade in disbelief. How the fuck had he not noticed?!

After Wade finishes he lets out a sigh of relief, "Fuck I don't realize how much I needed that.... wish I could have more."

Al turns on him, "You know full and well you can have more."

Wade just rolls his eyes, "No Al I can't because then I won't have more for later and I'd need that. I can only get so much blood."

Logan feels like his world is tilting on its axis again.

"I didn't realize you were.." Logan trails off still completely lost

Wade raises a brow at him, "A vampire? How?? I may not remember everything but there's no way I didn't make it at least a few comments about it." Wade shot back.

Logan could think of a few things in retrospect but in his defense he had been detoxing. Wade seems to realize that too and just huffs in ammusmet, "Well congrats on figuring it out finally. I've been one for .....a long time."

Logan furrows his brow at that, "How long?" He asks dubiously.

Wade just smiles fangs on full display, "longer than you've been alive."

Logan feels like he was dropped into ice water. There was no way... It wasn't possible....

Wade picks up on his line of thinking and continues on, "Got turned at Valley Forge." (Idea via @orcadork4ever )

Logan trys uselessly to say something. He fails and Wade snorts, "Your old peanut but I'm older."

[djcandiepaws]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ yandere! crossdresser x reader

summary: yall shower together huzzah!!1!! cw: implied noncon touching

post it notes: hiiiii!! i will have him confess sometime in the near future but so far i will just be doing random scenarios + hcs of him

You and him have returned from the beach, you guys played in the water, and built sandcastles. Unfortunately for you guys though, the sand made itself comfortable on you guys' wet skin.

"Ugh, we need to take a shower. I love the beach but man, sand sticking to me is so uncomfortable." You sigh out, but that's actually when a lightbulb went off in his head. "Ah!… So… you know my family pays the water bill, right?" He takes a few steps closer to you. You murmur out an 'uh-huh'. "And you remember when you once mentioned to me how you take pretty long baths…" You nod in response. "How about we just bathe together? ...to save money, of course!" His heart almost jumps out of his chest asking you this. It's so intimate, but y'all have been friends for a few months by this time, so it shouldn't be that weird, right?

An involuntary 'oh' comes out of you. He starts getting a bit nervous; did he make you uncomfortable? "Hey, it's not that bad!! I won't look if it's more comfortable for you." You just stare, blinking at him. "That's a strong… uhh… idea." You look taken aback. That's a very strong question to ask. Though, wouldn't it not be weird? You guys have been friends for months now, and so far he seems friendly and non-judgmental.

"Pleaseeee!! Don't you want to relieve some stress off of my parents backs by not wasting so much water? Bathing together is an easy solution!" I mean, you start to consider it. It won't be that bad, right? It's not like he's asking anything that strange... It doesn't have to be sexual. Plus, you would hate to be a burden to his family.

"Well… I guess I don't want to be a burden to your family… And nudity isn't always necessarily sexual... Fine, we'll do it!" You rub your arm nervously. "See? It'll be fine! I think of this as nothing more than a friendly gesture, I swear!" He wants to jump up and down and squeal and just freak out so bad. He can't believe he managed to persuade you into this!! He holds your hand to guide you into the bathroom and he closes the door behind you.

He begins to undress while making eye contact. "Woah, you're going to undress in front of me?" You just stand there while saying. "Like you said, all nudity isn't inherently sexual. It's just how you perceive it." He holds your hand. "Also, I trust you. Anyways, your turn!"

Though reluctant, you agreed and started to undress.

Soon you're done undressing; you're both just standing there, naked, and stuck waiting for the bath water to fill the tub.

It was so awkward. Your eyes averted his gaze and body, trying to be respectful.

Once the bath was done you both got in. It was a bit awkward, being naked in front of him like that. You must admit the silent atmosphere lulled you to sleep halfway. You're not really sure what happened during that time but you do faintly remember feeling sudden touches all over your body. You never really asked him what happened because you feel a bit scared to bring it up, plus you would hate to ruin your only friendship in this new town you're in.

There is already rumors at school that say nasty, yet untrue things about you. If you ruin this friendship you'll be completely alone.

When you sleep over usually y'all watch a movie and then say goodnight after, but that night things felt different. That night you guys went to sleep without saying anything to each other.

[rowretro]

𝕱𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖞...

🂱warnings: yandere, kissing, blood, toxic themes, manipulative

🂱synopsis: y/n the sweetheart freshman that Riki has had a crush on for 3 years, fell victim to his sweet trap, his oh so friendly family appreciated her a little too much, no much more than Riki of course, and how could u possibly not fall forth man who admired your ballet passion?...

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

Y/n was there at 1 am on the rooftop yet again, her white leotard and perfectly flowing skirt unmatched by her tattered bloody white ballet shoes. Riki knew it was her escape, her escape from the craziness the world often brings. She left home thinking she'd find freedom, but still, she saw no sign of freedom. His sweet sweet princess has no better home than one with him. He is the perfect husband, his family willingly loving and caring for her as if she were their own. Riki smiled as he approached her, seeing she was done. "U still haven't given me an answer pretty girl... I'm done being ur friend I want to be your love." His voice echoed as she froze.

The girl turned back to look at him. Nishimura Riki, the one hot senior so many girls fawn over, who wouldn't, he has killer looks, the perfect body, the kind of waist women envy to have, but he does look absolutely unapproachable. in y/n's eyes, he's nothing but a rich entitled student, he gets into so many fights and still gets away with his violent behaviour. Without saying a word, y/n ran off, her little anklet charms hitting against each other, causing a fairly loud ringing echo across the area. Riki didn't chase after her. no, that's not how you catch a butterfly, by chasing after it it'll fly to extreme heights and escape. So he had a plan.

Y/n was blasting pussycat dolls in her earphones as she walked to her lesson, in the corner of her eye, she saw a woman waiting to cross the road with her. She was pretty observant of the random things, and in this case, her observance was a blessing. The woman clutched her chest, collapsing to the ground. The lights go from red to green, indicating to cross. She dialled the emergency number, holding the woman's hand, her head rested on y/n's backpack as she looked up at her, the look in her eyes despite the sharp pain she was experiencing in her chest, was very hopeful. This beautiful girl... Riki's crush, saved her life.

"I'm fine son, it was simply a minor attack..." Riki's mother said as she watched her son's brows furrow, as he washed the dishes in her place. "Don't go out for a while. get some rest, Mom, minor or not, I don't want to take any risks," he said, clearly worried, but his frown deepened when he turned to face her. It was as if her mind was somewhere else, a smile gracing her face "That girl... she saved me... perhaps it's a sign." she said as Riki rolled his eyes "Mom we've been through this I only w-" "y/n. Yang y/n." she cut him off as his annoyed expression was immediately replaced with a gummy smile, his mom's on board. This was going to be easy.

"Do my lips look too overlined?" y/n asks as she's looking in the mirror, fixing up her makeup. "Let's see?... no it looks cute," the girl said as she went back to scrolling through her phone. "I'm so glad you can make it to mine Kira, our schedules are so all over the place, I can't believe you're graduating soon" Y/n slightly pouts, side hugging her best friend. "Don't worry gurl, I'll be coming here more often after I graduate... anyways since we're catching up tell me. how are things with you and the loverboy?" Kira asks teasingly shaking her.

"I thought I told you, no matter how hard he tries, I'm just not going to date him. In the long run... I don't know if it'll work in the long run... he's sweet, gentle with me, always trying to treat me well, I know he's in love I can see that look in his eyes... but he's just... he seems dangerous, the violence, sure maybe it can be justified, but he looks so... psychotic when he beats them. that adoration replaced with an endless hole of darkness... what if we're married, get into a small argument and that's me he's beating up?" she rants as she turns to her best friend with a clearly hurt look.

It seems so easy, she's already liking Riki, heck she even made a scenario in her head of them being married. Kira sighed, ignoring the comments she made about her brother, and she patted her head. "Gurl you think too much, he's only beating the motherfuckers who hurt you, I mean if it wasn't for him, that dude, whatever his name is would've gotten away with ramming your car into a building, that man showed no guilt for almost killing you. He's psychotic. Focus on the good, he's always trying to be sweet always treating you, he knows your favourites, heck he even gave you his blood when you were lying in hospital... I just want the best for you" Kira said with a smile.

"Riki... I uhm... let's get some cake-" Y/n simply said. Her conversation with Kira led her to call the man the next day, so she could see if he was really worth it. "Anything for my everything" he said cheesily with a smile "You're so cheesy, imagine someone once campus heard you say that" she giggled as they walked to the little cute cafe. "All this I'd do anything for you, and you still don't want to have mint choco?" she taunted him as he frowned "mm yes chocolate cake so yummy isn't it my darling," he said with a smile, casually shoving a decent amount of cake into her mouth. Perhaps it would be lovely to be in a relationship with him.

The day went smoothly not one bad thing happened, his hand in hers, as they walked out of the park, not once was he acting too possessive, over her outfit, almost as though he appreciated the effort she put into her style. Not once did he complain about her ultra-high heels being hazardous in a park, or her outfit not being too cold-friendly, instead he gave her one of the many layers he was wearing. All he thought was "We'd be a very stylish couple" The better Kim and Kanye, back when they were in their "prime" at least.

However, it dawned on her when he took her to his home. A few weeks had passed before this. She felt like he was literally everything she needed in a man. Everything but the violence. The possessiveness and control over her friends, specifically male friends. When she'd talk to her best friend about it she'd side with him. Now she knows why. " I just want the best for you my best friend... and the best you could ever get is Riki for a boy friend, me as your best friend, and our parents as the sweetest in laws. don't fight it. they're better parents than yours would ever be." she simply said as she blocked the front door.

The whole family is in on this. Even her best friend. The girl she trusted with everything and anything, going behind her back and manipulating her like this. "Oh sweetheart, where are you off to? It's too late at night sweetheart, Me and Dad helped move all your things into Riki's room, if you need anything, you can ask us, or even the maids... we hope you feel at home here" that woman... the one who had a minor attack, the woman she saved. This is so fucking creepy.

Lying with Riki in what's now their bed, his plush full lips attacking her face every now and then, his arm around her waist, comfortingly stroking her, playing with her hair at times, his eyes looking at hers, and scrolling through his reels both at the same time. This felt so oddly safe. A best friend who protects her, a man who protects her, parents who care, a mother who does her hair gently, and a father who enjoys making dad jokes with her. This felt more like home than creepy. She's convinced that this. This is home.

At least for now...

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

A/n: ik these aren't the names of Riki's actual family, but I just didn't want to add their actual names, it felt weird for me, I hope u guys understand.

[tealvenetianmask]

I'm sick, so I'm going to do the very normal thing and wax poetically about the positive neurodiversity representation is in HB. That's because they manage to make it appear neither purely good nor purely bad. It's allowed to just be part of what makes our characters who they are in their beautiful complexity.

Exhibit A: Blitz (there's no exhibit B yet, but maybe there will be!).

He never gets a diagnosis. No one in this show does.

I think ADHD is obvious. I did a post on this a long time ago, but the man barely sits still, and he's always climbing and sitting on things in odd ways. He misses things other characters say when he's caught up in his own ideas. He sometimes falls on his face when distracted despite having literal acrobatic skills. He gets stuck . . . hyperfocusing on things to the point where he ignores other pressing matters. He's an out of the box thinker and has an infectious enthusiasm for life.

You've probably seen me on here arguing that he has dyslexia. ADHD and LD (learning disabilty) are a much more common combination than most people acknowledge, just like ADHD and autism. If this is your take on him, I welcome you to comment too, but to me the LD/dyslexia thing is pretty powerful because I have ADHD and LD too. We all come to these conversations with our lived experiences.

And just like lots of real people with these and other neurodiversities, he also deals with a shit ton of trauma and related disorders as an adult. BPD . . . PTSD . . . you get the gist. The trauma is portrayed as bad, and some of his resulting behaviors certainly are too, but he's still fundamentally a good person who's been through a lot.

I think the part of his story I most understand as a neurodivergent one is the concept of "not being good enough" that he carries around. It originated before the fire, with Cash devaluing him (literally) in favor of Fizz. Blitz has an ever-present itch to prove himself, believes that he is not worthy of love, and that what he can DO for people is all that will make anyone want him around.

I think that most neurodivergent and/or otherwise disabled people get this, either from the always pushing side or the giving up side, or both at different times . . .). I grew up with parents who expected A LOT, and frankly, to this day, I often CAN'T meet their expectations because of how my brain works. I learned that I need to accomplish things. I also learned that I need to accomplish them IN MY WAY, or else I'd just fall short. I spent a lot of time when I was younger thinking that no one was like me (cue angsty music), but it turns out, a lot of people are. We just weren't very open about it in the 90's/2000's. That's why representation is important.

Blitz finds ways to work. He works very hard for his company, because he cares deeply about it and about the people who work for him, and also about PROVING SOCIETY WRONG (yes, there's a pushing back against racism element here too). He chooses to not care too much about spelling or paperwork and leans on employees for some of that- not justifying Moxxie being stuck with it, but, yes, this reads as self-accommodation to me.

And having to work around having more trouble with certain things because your brain works differently? Well, when a person grows up like that, you can get a really inventive, dynamic problem solver. Some people will say that this is inherently part of ADHD, and I don't know, but it's part of Blitz.

Anyway, I'll try to write a more coherent essay on some of these issues as they appear in the show later. Stolas is also an interesting case.

But do discuss! Entertain me on my snotty sick bed. XD

[gudfornuthin]

The Baker and the Ballerina

Chapter one

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

Summary: a well loved and respected bakery owned by none other than ex marine Frank Castle. A new neighbour moves in across the street

Series warnings: slow burn, cliché tropes, mentions of PTSD, mentions of abusive relationships, (eventual) smut, violence

Word count: 1k (other chapters will be longer)

A/N: I'm so excited to share this brand-new series with you all! It’s a long one so buckle up. I'll be uploading one a week, so if anyone would like to be tagged in future updates, just let me know. Also, this idea comes from a poem I wrote a few years ago (called the baker and the ballerina) and how l've been watching The Punisher. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to be a Frank fic or a Michael (the bear) fic, but Frank won so here we are lol. Feedback is always appreciated, thank you :)

The small bakery on 31st street, appropriately named Bakehouse 31, is a warm welcome for many tourists and a familiar face to a lot of the locals. The smell of fresh bread and pastries consume the surrounding area, drawing in anyone who dares to pass it. The people love to buy, and the employees love to sell. And all of this is because of the hard work and effort from one man; Frank Castle. From first impressions, no one would believe this was the man behind the quaint and cosy bakery. Whether it was his big muscles and stern expression, or his tough personality most people can't figure out how to crack, it always comes as a shock to learn he's the one who built Bakehouse 31 from the ground up. But Frank is passionate about what he does, and after leaving the Marines a few years back, he needed the unusual change. Even if there were some people who didn't fully support it.

- - -

"Here's your almond croissant and black coffee. Have a good day."

It's Monday morning and Bakehouse 31 is busy as always, packed with commuters on their way to work and the regular retired customers setting up on their chosen table for the next few hours. Frank is front and centre, handing out the baked goods and holding conversations he would rather not be having. His co-worker and friend, David, chooses not to be as productive. He leans on the counter, instead keeping busy by doing a crossword puzzle in the paper.

"What's another word for a mule?" he asks to anyone listening.

"Jackass," Frank replies, adding extra muffins to the display.

David shakes his head. "No that doesn't fit."

"I wasn't talking about the crossword."

David glares at his friend as some of the customers in ear shot chuckle.

He throws the paper down on the side, moving over to the coffee machine and finally helping with some of the orders.

"You ever think of hiring someone else?" David questions.

Frank looks back at him. "What, to replace you? All the time."

"Wow, you're jack of all trades today. Baker, comedian and asshole," David bites back. "I'm serious though. We're stumped most days, wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of hands around here."

Frank packs a couple bagels and a baguette, handing them to the next customer and telling them to have a good day. He definitely doesn't get tired of saying that.

"We're fine, I can do most of this shit with my eyes closed," Frank responds, grabbing the coffees David made. "And when you actually pay attention, we can breeze through the day no problem."

"Yeah yeah."

The pair continues moving around each other and dealing with orders, the day passing by with no issues. By 2pm, most of the baked goods have been sold, and the only people left in the store is Frank and David, as well as a few regulars who stay until closing time.

The bell above the door rings and an old woman enters.

"Hey Flo," Frank greets her. "Usual?"

"Thanks, extra sugar in the coffee," she replies, Frank nodding already knowing the drill. "So, you boys looking forward to getting new neighbours?"

"What're you talking about?" David asks, his focus back on the crossword puzzle.

"The moving van across the street," Flo sounds surprised, assuming they were aware of what was happening opposite their bakery.

"Someone's bought the abandoned studio."

"Well if they're anything like the last people who owned it," Frank mumbles, thinking back to the drug bust and the obvious smell of marijuana seeping from the building.

David moves from behind the counter and toward the window, trying to get a good look at the people across the street.

Flo waves Frank off. "No no, I just spoke to the person who bought it. Lovely young woman, she's planning on renovating it into a dance studio."

Frank hums, not paying too much attention as he wipes down the counters, hoping to finish earlier than usual. David, however, has lost interest in any work he was doing, continuing to look out the window as the movers unpack the few items from the van. Flo walks over and stands next to him, the pair not being subtle about their nosiness.

David points, smudging the glass with his finger. "Is that her?" Flo nods. "Yeah, that's her. Oh she was absolutely delightful to talk to.”

"And not bad to look at either."

Frank shakes his head at his friend's words. "Oh great, like you need more distractions."

"Nah," David says, turning to briefly look at Frank. "You might though."

Flo giggles and Frank can't help but smile. "Not happening. I have a lot on my plate already," he moves over to David, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and pulling him away from the window. "And so do you. I think it's your turn to wash up, right?"

David grumbles like a child, shuffling back behind the counter and pushing the door leading to the kitchen. "Fine, but l'm taking an extra half hour for break tomorrow."

He disappears into the back, leaving Frank to pack everything away in the front. Flo takes her now lukewarm coffee and cinnamon bun, bidding goodbye to Frank and exiting the bakery. He watches her go, his eyes inadvertently drifting to the moving van. The woman isn't anywhere to be seen, most likely dealing with the definite mess left behind in the abandoned lot. Frank goes back to wiping things down, forgetting about the conversation he just had, and the young woman he most likely won't be bumping into anytime soon.

- - -

Taglist: [TBD]

[rachetmath]

Long skit. Read at your own time.

Ruby: Hey Jaune.

Jaune: Sup Rubes?

Ruby: Let's say you were in charge. How would you have handled the Robyn and Ironwood situation?

Jaune: … … … Fourth wall break.

Me: What?

Jaune: You are still on this? come on man.

Me: Fine. Just one more time.

Jaune: For real?

Me: For real.

Ruby: What the-?

Jaune: Okay. Ruby you… weren't entirely wrong not to trust James but… it felt out of pocket.

Ruby: Jaune, Leon tried to kill us. Ozpin lied to us.

Jaune: Yeah… but Ironwood was different. He bailed your team out multiple times. I can't trust him because he hasn't done crap for me. Plus he knew about Pyrrha. Remember Qrow told us first about Salem. And Ironwood implied it by knowing the information before we even told him anything. I trust you though so I did not have a choice.

Ruby: But you-

Jaune: Yeah I got smug with him, but, I stepped down because I didn't want to go too far. However, nothing I said was false considering the circumstances. Especially with Mantle.

Ren: Jaune, the things that were going on in Mantle were temporary and things would get better once we were done with Amity.

Jaune: … Are you a f- Fiona!

Fiona: Hm.

Jaune: Fiona you are a better candidate for Mantle so please tell me was Mantle any better before all of this happened?

Fiona: No, no, it wasn't. We were already struggling financially. People were still poor but at least had steady jobs—until they got laid off. Grimm attacks were common but got worse due to the negativity, and we barely had defenses.

Ren: Which Mantle destroyed!

Jaune: Which were completely useless to begin with. The only one who defended Mantle better than all of us was Penny.

Nora: So basically it wouldn't have mattered if Amity was launched or not, nothing would have changed?

Fiona: Nope. At least not in a short amount of time.

Jaune: Wow then, um, hey.

Me: what?

Jaune: Think you can… you know…

Me: Sure.

Ironwood: *appears* What the?

Jaune: Ironwood, question.

Ironwood: Um, what?

Jaune: Let's say Amity Arena was no longer an option. What would have been your plan if that were to happen?

Ironwood: … … …

Jaune: That was your only plan wasn't it?

Ironwood: But it was a good one. It's worth fighting for.

Jaune: So instead of preparing Mantle for a fight. Trying to calm them down. Catching Tyrian, who we knew was there. And instead figuring shit out. Making compromises. We have been playing cat and mouse. so none of us had our priorities were f**** straight?

Ruby: I mean-

Jaune: You gave the relic to Oscar knowing full damn well he wasn’t up to speed in combat yet. Which he lost to Neo. Then his dumbass went to talk to Ironwood knowing damn well he was willing to even put him on a wanted poster. Even though Oscar was the most honest with him.

Ruby: …. …..

Jaune: Now, if I started questioning James earlier, then I would have been questioning you and your authority because I was following your lead. Believe me, you would not want me to do that because I will treat you like Qrow and Ozpin. As an adult. And if I found out you didn’t have a plan either, I probably would have gone rogue and kept secrets from you.

Fionna: Wow.

Yang: Jaune I already-

Jaune: I mean if I have to kill someone if it means that plan would work, I would. And though I advocated for Robyn, that doesn’t mean I trust her.

Robyn: Wait what?

Jaune: Hell yeah, you were just lesser evil. You were stranger to me. But then you became a problem. Shit, I should have at least captured May or Fionna. Probably because they haven’t shown any combative skills.

Nora: Okay then-

Jaune: Where are you coming from?

Nora: Not important. Let's say I suggest we reason with them. How would you do that?

Jaune: Again, that would be Fionna.

Robyn: Excuse me.

Jaune: Again Fionna is a better representative for Mantle, not just for being born there but also is Faunus. She’s basically the gray area between Marrow and Blake philosophies, who both would give a biased answer with no solutions to the problem.

Blake: Hey-

Jaune: You shut up. You don’t do shit for your people. I hope your dad plows your mom later on because they need another kid. After all, you were a mistake.

Blake: … … …

Jaune: Bellabooty ass hoe. And Robyn is just a discount Yang with an Ironwood personality. Stubborn as hell with a stick up their asses.

Robyn: *gasp*

Yang: Hey-

Jaune: *slaps Yang*

Yang: *shocked*

Jaune: Get the f*** out of here you bastard child.

Yang: *leaves*

Jaune: Anyways. If Fionna told me what we could have done to help Mantle more than what Atlas ‘recommended’ we do, she probably wouldn’t need the supplies anymore and return them. But before I would do any of that, again, I would have needed Penny back on duty. Meaning I would’ve forced Robyn to say Penny is innocent by using her semblance on Penny. Which is the semblance everyone in Mantle knows about.

Weiss: Okay but what about my-

Jaune: Almost everything Mantle uses is from the SDC. From the voting poles and heat vents. If we had put those together the puzzle would have fallen in place.

Ruby: Wait so basically why didn’t we just divide and conquer?

Jaune: Exactly. Anyway, Weiss, your father would have been under suspicion so his role as a council member would not be official yet. So that would have given us more time. I may not be able to stop Ironwood but at least give Mantle a fighting chance. And not only that none of us have been bouncing information to one another. I mean we could have taken the city with us. Or maybe put the people in Mistral or Argus.

Weiss: Wow.

Jaune: Honestly I really should have done more. Like I don't blame Ren for being mad at me. I could have done more. I should have been questioning you especially after Heaven and Argus.

Ruby: Jaune -

Jaune: Not just you but Ironwood too. Watts wasn't smart, we were just so stupid and stubborn that we didn't bother seeing our enemy was right in front of us.

Ruby: Jaune-

Jaune: Like Mantle had so many things wrong with it. From the cameras, the androids, the robots and its defense. The treatment of its civilians. Like seriously, if we had just put Amity on hold we could have done better.

Ren Jaune -

Jaune: And let's say we could have prepared Mantle, still lost and had to evacuate them. We brought them to the most dangerous kingdom in all of Remnant. How foolish.

Ironwood: And that's why-

Jaune: Shut up. Cause James, Atlas had it coming. Its-

Me: No, let me. Ironwood, your military, even the Kingdom deserved what it got. You treat Faunuses like slaves. You never keep your people in check and make me question you all the time. Like Argus. Yeah we can blame the kids for the majority but the woman who decided to flex a giant mech over a plane hijack. What the hell?

Ironwood: … …

Me: Then your soldiers have to look like the very machines you created. It's no wonder no one trusts them and it was easy to frame you. It's almost like they were trained to be the same and work as a union meanwhile keeping their individual personalities away. Probably because they were in Atlas for too long and they forgot what home or having a spine looked like. Crazy.

Ironwood: … … …

Me: Face it. Atlas was already ready to start another war. You flex your power, trying to show the world that Atlas is its biggest factor yet still refuse to humble yourselves when it comes to the rest of the world. Watts was right about you. You want control. Nothing else.

Watts: Ratchet even though you hate me I am still the smartest character in the show!

Me: No the fuck you are not!

Watts: What?

Me: Dude, remember, you were handed the win. Again, if our characters had figured shit out. Had their priorities in order. What would have been your back up plan?

Watts: Um.

Me: Not to mention, you didn't survive Atlas. You died.

Watts: Um.

Me: Then the fight with Ironwood. Bullshit. How does a scientist manage to keep up with a soldier especially in hand to hand combat? Plot.

Watts: Well Penny -

Me: Man don't get me started on how you messed up with Penny.

Watts: … ….

Me: Matter of fact. I'm going in today.*snap 🫰*

Characters from Rwby I needed to appear.

Me: Neo. Baby. I love you. But you - oo. Oo. You beat Yang in a 1v1. You held your own against Cinder, I don't care what anyone said you could have killed the bitch. You fought team Jnpr in a 4v1. Which I will say the writers sabotaged them because they should have given you more trouble. But you struggled against Maria. Maria who hasn't been a huntress or in combat situations for years. How?!

Neo: 🥺.

Me: Jaune you did good but… you should have been fighting more. I'll explain more in a few. Oscar, you did well, I mean you still dumb as hell but you did your best.

Oscar: Okay.

Me: Now you two I can't excuse. Well one of you. Nora, you could have done better. You should have been more screen time. But Ren-

Ren: *turn away*

Me: Nah-Nah, don't turn away from me Ren. Ren. Ren, look at me. Look at me! Where were hands? Where were your hands Ren? Cause so far you been spamming the same fucking move! Like god- I can't believe I'm saying this but Jaune can beat you.

Ren: … …

Ruby: Um Rat-

Me: Shh. Now you and your team. You all managed to beat the Ace ops in a fight. A 4v4 fight.

Ruby: Yep.

Weiss: We were excellent.

Blake: We did.

Yang: No problem.

Me: So tell me why could none of you manage to fight Cinder. Let only touch her. Matter of fact, when the Ace-ops pulled up on you again, what happened?

Blake: I mean we did land a hit on Cinder.

Me: Understood but… y'all have the biggest cheat code and that's Ruby. But then Neo knocked Yang off in one move to save Ruby then proceeded to whoop all of you. No effort.

Blake: Wow. Excuse us for going through emotions. We just watched our team mate theoretically die.

Weiss: Plus, she had to put in a little effort.

Cinder: Like hell. I was disrespecting you girls completely. The only one who managed to be on par with me was Penny.

Me: Who all of you nerfed to hell by making her human. Once again the villains are handed the win. Y'all played yourselves. But let’s get on topic on why I summoned you all here. What I notice in this show is not just horrible character development for most of you but in combat for all of you, I notice a heavy amount of skill issues.

RWBY characters: what?!

Me: Like you Ren. Bro your weapon works. It helps you close the distance to engage with enemies. You can throw them like boomerangs. And they have grappling hook functions. But you lack the skill to use them for some reason. Again what happened to your martial arts training? Like you could have been on Vine and Emeralds level but no you are a waste. Instead of spending training time on meditating you should have been training on how to use them and corporate them into your fighting style. If you had one.

Ren: *silent*

Nora: Hey don't be too hard on him.

Me: The man was talking loud at the wrong people instead of the bitch who caused the problem. And he barely amounted to shit in the volumes. And his semblance evolving is trash. Fuck his feelings. He should have died along with his parents.

Nora: Shit.

Me: Ruby, your weapon upgrade is impractical. In fact I barely noticed it until someone pointed it out.

Ruby: Um.

Me: Like you showed skill in wielding a scythe. It’s unnecessary. And you have dust in your bullets. Use them. At this point I'm questioning if you had any training. Weiss.

Weiss: … …

Me: Bitch you cannot be that rusty that you don't remember how to use your weapon along with your semblance. Like you have the best semblance in the show and it’s versatile. There is no excuse for you losing half the time. Quit trying to summon your henchman and fight. Blake.

Blake: …. ..

Me: They should have given you katana in my opinion but if it ain't broke don't fix it. Still girl… …. what happened to that one move you used back when you were fighting Roman? Like you could have taught Jaune that move.

Blake: I mean-

Me: And what happened to your counter game? Do you remember how your semblance works? And again you have dust. Use the shit!

Blake: … … …

Me: Yang.

Yang: …. ….

Me: In the volume seven open credits, why never you used that move once?

Yang: … … …

Me: I could say more like you being able to launch yourself in the air. Or how you could have saved Oscar by placing your bombs around the grim and using it as a smokescreen to grab him. But I digress. Still you never use that move once, I almost thought I was seeing a dragon fist. It was beautiful. Why have you never used that?

Yang: … … Um.

Me: I really hate you. Now for you three. Jaune my boy.

Jaune: … …

Me: what happened to your grandsword mode?

Jaune: I don't know. Pietro must have removed it.

Me: Cause you really could have done some serious damage. Like you should have been doing way more. Like I understand you're the healer, but… healers are supposed to be protected, and I don't recall anyone but Ruby protecting you. Plus just because you're a healer you know how to fight. Basically you're not a healer, you're a Druid. Plus rarely anyone in this show needs healing, beside Weiss, Ren and Oscar sorry butts. You're not just a Druid but basically a Red mage.

Jaune: Well-

Me: like bro if Vine had taught you well which he didn't. Or if you actually took the time to learn how to do that. Or if the writers gave a damn and the fan base doesn't have this beef with you. You would have been doing shit like this.

Jaune: Aw man, b-but my grandsword mode only provides me with more offensive options but no defense.

Me: You had a magnetic hard light dust mini grenade shield.

Jaune: Oh my God!

Me: To clarify, unlike these five with skill issues while having enough, you and Nora should have way more options in your bag now. Like Nora, why don't you carry lighting dust on deck or wear an electric collar or something so you can use your semblance whenever you want?

Nora: That… does make sense.

Me: If not that then you really should have been a maiden. Mainly because of the theory of Fria being your grandmother.

Nora: Are you serious?!

Me: Hinse why I hate both Ren and Oscar. You two should have been the main focus of the Atlas arc, along with Yang, Ruby and Weiss. Especially if you two together counter Atlas technology. Like Nora you didn't need to be passed out for most of the volume if Jaune was with you.

Oscar: Woah man I -

Me: *slaps Oscar*

Oscar: … … …

Me: Look Oscar. I hate you. I-I wish… I wish Hazel killed you. You are a waste of f***** air. You are just the solution of cry baby fans who hated Jaune so much that they would settle for a new character. You get all this power and still get whooped. Leave my site. Now.

Oscar: *walks off*

Me: Dumbass kid gets all that power meanwhile everyone else stays stagnant.

Cinder: Well-

Me: Jaune is always ready to fight you. Ruby can beat you with a glance. Penny could have killed you. Neo could have killed you. Shit Raven should have killed you. You even lost to Winter who just got the maiden powers by a few seconds after Jaune killed Penny. Remember you have to gang up on Amber to get those powers. Humble yourself. And remember you are Salem's weakest link so far. At this point, Cinder, I really think Pyrrha died because of the plot and her just being stupid.

Pyrrha: Hey.

Summer: What-

Me: F you Summer. We still don’t know jack about you. It’s been nine volumes and we still have no clue on what happened to you. Like I said y’all be selling the win.

Rwby characters: … … …

Me: I should end this here but- I think I should explain. Jaune, Weiss, Yang and Nora. You four should have gone to Atlas. Again Jane and Nora counter Atlas technology with their weapons. Nora didn't need to be knocked out.

JWNY: … …

Me: Nora, out of all people you could’ve asked for advice on anything, you chose Blake. The girl who has a record of not steady relationships. Really?

Nora: I mean-

Me: I say Jaune would be a better person to ask considering he wanted a relationship with Pyrrha. Plus, he has a different perspective of Ren. He may know something about him that you don’t. Plus you two barely talk to each other, so a moment between you two would have been good, at least so we can see you as a team.

Rwby fan: Damn he’s right.

Me: Believe me I think Jaune and Hazel should have fought each other, but Jaune vs Ironwood is three times better. Fights don't always have to be psychical. They can be a game of chess. Jaune vs Ironwood is a battle between two leaders with different ideals and leadership methods. Ironwood doesn’t care how you feel, when you barks an order, he expects you to do it. Jaune on the other hand doesn’t just bark orders. He explains the order but is welcome to input. Really James is Jaune.

Rwby fan: Damn.

Me: Yang and Weiss could have been arguing over Ruby’s actions with Weiss defending her and calling Yang out on her bull crap. Then when it comes to Whitely Yang calls Weiss out on her attitude with her family. The show has so far shown us multiple times that these girls talk to each other more than they talk to their partners. Why is Atlas any different?

Rwby fan: Damn.

FreezerBurn fan: DAMN IT!

Me: Ruby, Oscar, Ren and Blake. Beside the three having the physical training, powers and tools to navigate the city. In fact, if Blake has White Fang experience shouldn’t she know how to drive. In fact, if Jaune and Ren are capable of riding hover bikes I don’t see how you two, Ruby and Blake, can’t ride one as well.

Ren: But without Jaune-

Me: *irritated* What has that training been for?

Ren: … … …

Me: Struggle Sasuke- man you are worse than Megumi. Anyways everything happens the same. Except when the hound appeared Ruby tried to use her silver eyes but they didn’t work. Which is a bigger shock than it being capable of speech. And even if you guys could retrieve Oscar who to say the hound couldn’t make the Grimm surround all of you and force you to give Oscar back or just take all of you to Salem. Again, Salem wanted Ruby from the start.

Salem: Yeah he’s not wrong.

Me: The only alternative is instead of everyone on Ruby’s team being captured, Ren and Blake escape while Ruby along with Oscar are captured.

Ren: But then we’ll be trapped in the snow.

Me: You both have training and experience, I’m sure you both are capable of surviving. Also if the Amity started working you could have just called Fiona and she would track your call and find you. Or May could have found you considering she had a plane. Or if you still got captured by the Ace ops and still went into battle with them, you could have, I don’t know, called your friends and let them know what happened.

Ruby: But if I’m imprisoned then Neo and Cinder will find out and try to kill me.

Salem: Cinder would but I have her on a leash.

Me: Plus, Neo has a habit of toying with her enemies. Torturing someone is not far for her. Plus Salem gave Neo what she wanted more than Cinder did. Neo is basically repaying Salem by interrogating you for the password.

Neo: * “True” face*

Me: Now Penny, I would have kept her experience the same. The difference is Jaune could actually save her along with her father. Pietro should have had a way to come back and save his daughter.

Penny: How so? I fell from the sky!

Me: I know it's a stretch but if Jaune was training using his semblance to recharge his aura faster than normal he could jump after you and try to catch you.

Jaune fan: Son of a -!

Me: And Penny with your last bit of consciousness of yourself, you in turn save Jaune from certain death. Sadly, when you were found by Weiss-

Weiss: Wait I was with Jaune? Then where were-

Me: Jaune if the Ace-ops stole Penny’s sword instead of trying to capture her would that not be suspicious?

Jaune: Yeah… I mean though Penny could stand her ground the Ace-ops has the upper hand. Plus with how stubborn they are especially Harriet and Elm they wouldn't settle for less. Unless they were ordered.

Me: So with that in mind would you have gone to Pietro?

Ruby: Ratchet just because I was willing to send Penny to Amity to lay low doesn't mean -

Jaune: WHAT?!

Ruby: … …

Jaune: You planned to leave our most valuable friend on Amity, alone.

Ruby: It was to keep her safe.

Jaune: Okay. Again. Why did you let her go alone?

Ruby: Um.

Me: Jaune did she tell you Cinder was in Atlas?

Jaune: … … How long?

Me: A while. She also saw her in the maiden’s room.

Jaune: … …. *Eyes twitching*

Ruby: Jaune-

Jaune: Don't. Say. Anything. To me.

Me: Yeah y'all need to start relaying information to one another. Anyways Weiss you along with Jaune helped get a message out about Salem. Though it still wouldn't have made a difference for Atlas and Mantle. But then Nora calls Jaune from where her and Yang, under Jaune's orders, continue to defend Until you heard Ruby's team went away. I would explain more but I know I'm not going to get likes or repost on this so I'll end this here. Still the fact that none of you have a role, know how to use your abilities to their fullest and having little to no brain cells proves Atlas was screwed from the start.

[saint-mona]

Hello dear. I like your fics. And now it made curious of you. How long you've been here om Tumblr?, how long you've been a Beatle-John fan (Hello! Me tooo and) and when did you notice the Mclennon-shit? Has it always been there or is it new? What do you think of it all?

You don't need to mind this ask at all, or if you give a short or long answer. I just really trust you older clever tumblerina gals a bit more than the newer fandom.

Ahhhh Anon,

You just made my day! I have been on Tumblr since 2016, but was a Live Journal girl back in my youth (99-01). As for John, I've been unabashedly in love with the dead man for 30 years. (Pathetic, really) he just makes me happy regardless of what goes on.

McLennon is a realization I made in 2016. I had been a fan for years, but didn't search out a fandom until I stumbled across fanfics on google. (fun fact, I wrote Beatles fanfic in high school before I understood what fanfic actually was!). I learned about Ao3 and the rest just fell into place. It makes so much sense. Once you see them together in archive footage, it's impossible to look at them as only platonic.

I can't believe you like my fics! I haven't written in so long. I have been working on one based on the Caversham trip, but it is extremely slow going because my personal life is incredibly busy.

Thank you for taking the time to message me. It really means so very much. I hope you have a good rest of the week. 💜

[rei-ismyname]

It's my favourite too, for that reason and because it successfully really made everyone important and sympathetic (or at least relatable.) Tom, Arjun, Syne the Memetaur, Jada, Kenta, Ajak and Makkari, the machine that is Earth, The Progenitor, even Starfox. Sincerity and pushing the Marvel event formula to its limits paid off so well.

I caught that pronoun edit and I appreciate it :). Kind of you to say I'm smarter than you too, but I disagree. It doesn't matter though, we can both be clever.

I think Cap failing was the moment I thought 'hell yeah, we're doing this.' All you say is true about him being one man, but at the same time I'd argue that post 9/11 Cap has been slipping in a lot of ways. Deferring to the government/unjust authority, even embodying it - is a long way from the guy who overthrew Nixon and sided with protestors against cops etc in the 70s. He fought against the SHRA, but whenever there's a mutant registration act/cure he hasn't done the same.

Cap was always a man out of time, but he was a young man. A New York art student during the New Deal era who bought that perspective to the 70s. I feel like he's aged into more of an establishment role and it's tied his hands in significant ways. It's something he realises every so often and I can't help but wonder if it played into his judgement. I love how The Progenitor only ever refers to him as 'the man in the flag.'

Oh yeah The Progenitor hates sunk costs, haha. 'Every day is Judgement Day' would have been life changing for Xavier to internalise. Fortunately, Gillen got to write him for the rest of the Krakoan age. Mags asked Storm to watch him and she did her best. He had breakdown after breakdown, even admitting 'I don't believe in this' but he just kept making the same mistakes. He's still making them right now.

He's lost so much and hurt so many people, and even now he's still manipulating people and keeping secrets, acting unilaterally. As much as the X-Force part of Chuck Hunt (much better name IMO) was bizarre and made little sense, he was up to old tricks but admitted 'this is for me.' He acknowledges out loud that he's acting selfishly.

The Cyclops judgement is so good, especially when The Progenitor uses it as context and character witness to judge Jean. 'I met your husband and passed him. 'My wife will beat you up' works well for him. Also I blew up his head.

I'm working on a post about this judgement right now - there's so much to say. The Progenitor is being massively unfair here, but if we go off other judgements this is Jean's guilt at play. Spoiler - I think he's trying to teach her something, but I'll get to that. Then there's DOOM, who laughs at it and rides a jetski. Passes, obviously. Lol.

Loser Husbands get judged

Judgement Day was a fantastic event running through the entire Marvel universe. In short, the new Prime Eternal thought wiping out the mutants would secure his political position. Tony Stark, Sinister and the Eternal priests built a new God to stop the war - which it briefly did. Then it judged everyone.

Magneto and Storm put on a fantastic show fighting Uranos the Undying, as you can see. The big guy tore Mags' heart out (rude) but he kept fighting with his powers and help from Storm, and eventually the pair fucked Uranos up. That's not what he's judged on.

As part of Arakko's government, Mags and Storm removed themselves from the resurrection protocols. Magneto is dying and The Progenitor chooses to judge him based on whether he sticks to his guns and accepts death. It's right that Xavier would save his loser husband if he called out to him right now, but he doesn't. It appears as his lost daughter Anya and gives him a thumbs up, recontextualising the scene in X-Men Red..

Interestingly, it thinks 'if all were like him there'd be no need for men like him.' Inasmuch as this cobbled together space God based on Tony Stark is worth listening to, it's at least fascinating that Kieron Gillen chose those words. Storm and Mags embracing as he dies is beautiful and the judgement means nothing.

Chuck doesn't fare so well in the 'being judged by a space God' game. The judgement itself is meaningless, but the nature of the test and Xavier's response are significant. The Progenitor has been shown to frequently judge a person based on their own standards and guilt.

The implication that Chuck represses the extent of his guilt over his shoddy parenting wouldn't surprise me. The dude is running a country and overseeing a psychic siege defence of the Quiet Council by himself, something that kills him multiple times via exploding head. He's also taking meetings, communicating with various people, and even has the time for passive aggressive jabs here and there.

I suspect it's not a failure to drop everything and run to David right in this moment, but not even stopping to look at his son on what's looking like the last day of existence for everyone. It could be something else entirely, what with inscrutable space Gods and all, though Charles Xavier is incredibly neglectful to David and always has been. I love that Legion managed to build himself some happiness and stability in spite of this, and I would LOVE to see a conversation between the two right now.

[timothyslucy]

i know we never got to see it for either angela or nyla when they had their babies, but i've always had this headcanon that whenever someone at mid-wilshire welcomes a new member into their family grey starts roll call with a picture of their little one, along with the standard criteria next to it, ya know, height/weight/length/etc. and then everyone does a drumroll at their tables as he does a dramatic name reveal, and i just hope that one day in the future we'll actually get to see him do so for tim and lucy. it would be so cute. 🥹🫶

[bizarrelittlemew]

tagged by @saltpepperbeard @summerlinenss @edsbacktattoo @xoxoemynn @jaskierx a while back to share my fav fics i've written!

my favorite thing i've ever written has to be Five Birthdays and a Funeral (6 chapters, 57.8k words, E), so i'll start there.

this fic focuses on Stede navigating depression and anxiety while finding himself and figuring out his feelings for Ed, and its thesis statement is very important to me - that the whole "you have to love yourself before you can love others/before you can be loved" thing is a lie, and that you don't have to be a perfectly "healed" human being before you can love and be loved in return.

i put a lot of personal stuff into it, which was both scary and cathartic, and the response has been incredible and extremely validating. seeing how this stuff resonates 🥹 made me feel less alone (and i always love it when people shout at me about ketchup lmao) 💗 and along with the heavier stuff, it has strong romcom vibes, some of my fav Ed/Stede banter i've written, and lots of smut which i have on authority (from lovely readers) is very hot 😌

next, i'm pretty proud of A Series of Cases of Penetrating Stab Wounds of the Abdomen - a short fic (1.9k words, T) written entirely as a scientific paper in the (fictional) Republic of Pirates Medical Journal! it was extremely fun to find a way to make a narrative work in this format (and i especially love the footnote referencing Roach inventing ye olde toppe surgery) 🤸

i have a soft spot for In the sack (2 chapters, 8.3k words, E), which has a mix of innkeeper domestic fluff/smut, character study relating to Stede and clothes, exploration of why both Ed and Stede might find freedom and empowerment on either side of dom/sub play, and Stede getting to wear the onesie of subification 😌

lastly, this is my least-read fic (which is to be expected for fics with crew member POVs, though it actually has a lot of Ed and Stede being obnoxiously in love), but one of my favs is Bathtub beginnings (4.1k words, M). i just love the 60s New York vibes and think it came out really well ✌️

if you see this and want to talk about your fav fics you've written, consider yourself tagged 💗