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monstersflashlight · 1 month ago

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Commission for Shylia

Request: Orc x female human that were childhood best friends and grew up together. Maybe they realize feelings getting jealous of the other going on dates?

A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning. <3 This is mainly plot but gets a bit rowdy towards the end, enjoy!

Out of jealousy

Orc x fem!reader || teasing, heavy petting, fingering, public sex (not caught)

You went on a date with a supposedly nice guy and had a good enough time, your brain supplying you a thousand other ideas that would be more fun that the dude’s boring job in the football league. But even then, when you entered your neighborhood, he leaned over the console to give you a half hug in goodbye and you accepted, already planning on deleting his number and telling him you didn’t want a second date. You knew you were being rude, and probably a bit unfair, he wasn’t the one to blame for your emotional unavailability. That was on you, and on your fucking stubborn orc best friend.

The same orc best friend who opened the door of the car you were in with a growl. “Get out,” he grunted. You weren’t sure if he was saying it to you or to your human date.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, confused by his antics. He was glaring at your date like he personally offended him, and you were starting to get angry. Who the fuck did he think he was? Why was he so mad? You dropped a thousand hints for him to ask you out, and he didn’t act on it.

He turned to you with a soft smile framed by his adorned tusks. Fuck, you hated when he smiled at you (but not really, you loved his smile). “I’m not talking to you, sweet-cheeks. I’m talking to that asshole who was about to touch you.” If words had colors, his would be green with jealousy.

“What are you doing?” You asked again, getting out of the car and in front of him, a finger pressed to his chest accusatory.

“You deserve better than him. He’s a piece of shit.” He was fed up, his breathing hard. And then he added: “He’s not even a monster, and I know how much you like monsters.” You gaped, completely taken aback by his words.

“Wha- what?” You stuttered, your heart beating fast. You thought he didn’t know you had a thing for monsters, you thought he didn’t know you had a thing for him.

He smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked down at you. Ugh, you hated (secretly loved) how tall he was. “I’ve been in your room, remember? I’ve seen all those monster romances on your shelf.”

“Excuse me, but who the fuck are you?” The dude who you were with asked in the middle of your embarrassment. He was still inside the car but had half his body out.

The orc in front of you remembered then that you were with somebody and his face dropped, you would be scared if you didn’t know he was such a sweetheart. “I’m his fucking mate, and you need to flee. NOW.” Your world stopped.

“Mate?” You choke out. “What do you mean mate?” Your tone is increasingly angry.

You knew what mates were. You’d been living next to his family since you were little. You were there when his brother came back and said he met his girlfriend at the gym. You were there. “Mates” was a big as fuck word for an orc to say, and if what you think was true, if what he said was true… Then he was going to get his ass kicked by a very angry human in about five seconds.

“Leave,” you ordered your date.

Your tone must be angry enough that he didn’t even ask, he just turned the car on and drove away. In other circumstances, you would have laughed at the stupidity of the situation. But right there, your rage was burning high as you glared daggers at the orc in front of you, your best friend, your oldest friend. He was looking at the ground, unable to meet your eyes.

You weren’t sure you could deal with that right now, not with how much anger was inside of you. So you turned on your feet and walked to your house, just a dozen meters away.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his tone soft and calming.

You turned to look at him, anger and pain mixing in a bitter tone: “Away from you.”

“Did I- Do you…?” He tried to ask, you weren’t sure what he was about to say but his nervous stutter only made you angrier, making you stop in your tracks and step into his personal space, looking up at him defiantly.

“Since when did you know?” You asked. You knew the answer, but you needed him to verbalize it, you needed him to accept that he knew since you two met. That he had been waiting for you (without any reason) for years.

He tried to play confused: “What?” You raised an eyebrow, daring him to lie. “Since we moved in,” he confessed.

You stared at him, looking miserable in front of you, and all the anger inside of you bleed out, only a spark of hope and pain left inside of you. “Now explain why you didn’t say anything before.” He gaped at you, his mouth opening and closing a few times, trying to talk but not finding the words. In other circumstances you would have taken pity on him, but not now. “I’m waiting.”

He sighed, defeated. “You said you wanted to explore and experience the world and I didn’t know if you…”

And then you understood. “You didn’t know if I wanted to do that with you?” He nodded and you almost laughed at his stupidity. You got on your tiptoes and grabbed his face, pulling him down until his face is at eye level with yours. “You are so fucking stupid I want to hit your pretty face until you are more red than green,” you told him. “I’m in love with you, you stupid maroon!” You finally confessed, staring at his eyes when you did.

“What?” He looked flabbergasted, and you couldn’t contain a giggle.

“In love. With a stupid orc,” you repeated slowly.

You didn’t get time to react before he was on you. He was so fast you couldn’t even scream as he grabbed you and hauled you up to devour your mouth in one eager kiss. You moaned around his lips, his tusks framing your mouth in the most amazing way as you lost yourself in the pleasure of having him against you… finally.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long, you drive me insane,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Good. I hope you suffered as much as I did just because you are stupid,” you said hitting his arm without force as you claimed his mouth in another frantic kiss.

“You are the one to talk…” He retorted as he kissed you with such passion you felt your pussy tingle.

He walked with you attached to him like a koala until your back was pressed against the side of your house, where the darkness made it impossible to see from the street. Or at least you hoped so, because the movements made your dress roll up and his clothed dick found the space between your thighs, where you were painfully wet already.

You both started panting, your kisses messy and heavy as you ground against the other. It was exhilarating in the best way possible. You felt like a teenager again, even though that was so long ago you barely remembered, but having him against you and his big body rubbing against all your right places, you were losing your mind in need.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered against your lips and you moaned in response. “Goddess, you sound so good, it’s driving me insane.”

You couldn’t hold back your teasing even if you tried: “I bet I’ll sound better when I scream your name.”

You felt his knees almost give out under him. “Ugh-ngh, you can say shit like that when I’m holding you up, I might drop you when all my blood rushes south,” he reprimanded as you giggled. You were about to retort like the little shit you were when his hand slipped under your panties and found your aching clit. Your voice broke in a moan as you threw your head back in pleasure, your hips moving faster against his hand. “Just like that, good little mate, taking your pleasure off my fingers. Are you going to come? Are you going to be a perfect mate and come against my fingers?” His words were making you frantic with your movements.

You could feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen as he kept rubbing your clit, one of his fingers finding your hole and playing with you. Your brain short-circuited as he bite the side of your neck, making you scream his name and exploding messily in his arms.

You were so wrapped in your pleasure you almost didn’t hear him when he made a choked sound and thrust up against your drenched pussy, his hips moving uncontrollably. “Did you just come in your pants?” You asked, amused, as he panted against your neck, his tusks making you shiver at the contact.

“Shut up,” he said without any force behind it. “I just touched my mate’s pussy for the first time, I’m allowed to come in my pants.”

Your amusement died with his words, your heart feeling so full it could explode. “Tell me you love me,” you whispered.

“Love is a weak word compared to what I feel for you, my mate,” he told you, looking at you like you held the moon. You melted, your body languid against the wall, caged by his arms.

“I love you too, my mate,” you let out in a breath, kissing his cheek sweetly. At the words he grunted, and you could feel his dick twitching where it rests against your pussy.

Well, maybe going out on a date to make him jealous wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Reminder that you can commission me (info here) and you can also suscribe to my Patreon "monster fucker" tier to get a commission (info here).

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pomefioredove · 6 months ago

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omomg i love ur writing!! <33

if this works can i request 3rd years + ruggie epel and silver with a GN reader thats very elegant, like duchess from the aristocats?

if possible i’d like reader to not be yuu 🎀

like the reader is the oldest sibling and has a very gentle and elegant aura, making then very loveable by everyone? reader is very smart, attractive, and especially sweet and gentle.

everyone would first assume that theyre spoiled bc theyre an aristocrat but they shock everyone w their personality

I have been writing nothing but fics for months now,, so I'm taking a break by going through the headcanon requests that were sent when I wasn't writing

summary: elegant reader type of post: headcanons characters: third years + ruggie, epel, silver additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu

Trey is your best friend, your platonic soulmate. he's... wary, at first, not really knowing what to expect from you; but he's also the first to warm up. as the designated Heartslabyul mediator and an eldest sibling himself, you two have a lot to bond over. maybe your refined and elegant tastes influence his baking, even; he definitely spoils you

oddly enough, social butterfly Cater has a hard time approaching you. not because you're popular, not because you're an aristocrat, just because you're so... genuine. it's uncommon for a student of Night Raven to be anything even remotely close to nice or sweet, and it throws him off

but he warms up to you eventually; expect to be all over his Magicam within a few months

...he may or may not still be trying to figure out what you're hiding, though

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona has had enough of the nobility to last him a lifetime. expect an eye-roll or a sharp rebuff any time you try to get close, he's never in the mood to deal with "spoiled, silver-spoon sucking little kids" (in his own words). persistence is key, here; much like a housecat, it takes him a long time to get comfortable with new people

now, Ruggie will never miss a chance to take advantage of your kindness. this doesn't mean that he doesn't like you, he's just a man of opportunity! plus, you're an aristocrat; hence, money! eventually, though, he starts feeling kinda bad for you, and he tries to toughen you up a little so you don't get swindled. results are varied

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

oh, Rook is absolutely smitten with you. your elegance, your gentleness, you are the absolute picture of beauty to him!

he's been keeping a close eye on you since orientation, both to ensure your safety, and just because he likes looking at you. everything you do is so delicate, he would put you on a shelf if he could

...not unlike Leona, Epel avoids you. the very last thing he needs is another pampered, elegant noble breathing down his neck, and... being seen with you would hurt his image

after all, he's already struggling to be taken seriously, so befriending the goody-two-shoes lovable sweetheart of NRC is completely out of the question

it takes him some time, but if you let him feel like he's protecting you (somehow), he'll stick to you like glue

you are just like Neige and Vil dislikes you for it. he knows it's unfair, but he can't force himself to get along with someone that reminds him so much of his worst enemy. so perfect, so sweet, pretty, and loved by everyone...

he's not an animal, though; he's civil when you cross paths. he even lets Rook gush about you. just don't expect him to be as easy to befriend as the others

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is not a fan.

first of all, you're way out of his league.

second of all... no, actually, that's it.

he knows from the start that someone so lovable and popular wouldn't be caught dead with someone like him, and he leaves it at that. unfortunately for him, you're also the curious type, and are drawn to him like a moth to a flame. your patience has no end, and eventually, you wear him down. now he can speak to you in full sentences!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Silver likes you, perhaps more than anyone else, though he doesn't really show it. he's not so great at expressing himself in words, but you can be sure he'll be there if you need something. he's nothing if not loyal, after all

you are so nice to Malleus and he likes it so much :) he's not used to anyone being so gentle with him, and it's a feeling he could easily get addicted to

he maaaay be a little overprotective and wary about your interactions with the other students, but he trusts you, too. just as long as you stay your sweet and endearing self, he's happy

Lilia thinks you're just great. it's not easy staying so kind in a place like this, but he always sees you with a smile on your face and a spring in your step... albeit, a more dignified and elegant one

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #epel felmier x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #silver x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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suzukiblu · 3 months ago

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WIP excerpt behind the cut: YJ accidental baby acquisition. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Genetically, Kenley is our offspring,” Tim cuts in quickly, keeping his voice as even as possible. “The DNA test was clear. And they’re a child. They can’t just stay at the Tower or on the Watchtower.”

“Impulse is technically seven, and Superboy is–what, five?” Barry says, looking exasperated. Kon’s still a few months away from four, actually, given the whole “was dead for a year” thing and some other weird shit that’s happened in their lives–they actually did the math pretty recently, but the fact that they had to do the math at all is very obviously a sign of weird shit happening in their lives, and either way, Tim won’t be correcting Barry’s math right now. “And you and Wonder Girl are what–seventeen?”

Speaking of people who were dead for a while and lost track of shit . . .

“I’m nineteen,” Cassie says, narrowing her eyes at Barry. “And Robin’s eighteen. No ‘technically’ about it.”

“Physiologically and mentally, Impulse is seventeen and Superboy is nineteen,” Tim informs them shortly before anyone can try and make the technicalities an issue. “It’s unreasonable to treat them as capable of risking their lives as active superheroes after they’ve both already died in the line of duty but then claim they’re not capable of basic childcare when you think it’s inconvenient for them to be allowed to.”

“Also you’re not allowing anything,” Bart says with a frown. “Kenley’s ours. Genetically and, like, ‘found and saved’-ly.”

“Bart, you have no idea how difficult taking care of even a normal kid is. Assuming the kid’s safe, an actual foster situation is going to be necessary,” Barry says in exasperation, sounding weary, and Wally looks a little stressed too, which is not good. Wally’s the best chance they have to get the League at large not to be unreasonable about this–at least as long as Dick’s here, anyway–but he and Bart have never really seen eye to eye and he’s never really understood him or taken him seriously, so . . .

Also, Wally’s the one who has the most experience with having superpowered kids in this conversation, and with nearly losing said kids. If anyone’s going to be the one they can get on their side, well–

Technically, Tim is perfectly aware of Jon Kent’s existence and the fact that he has superpowers and was also temporarily “lost”. He’s equally aware of both Otho and Osul’s existences and past traumas and own powers.

He is even more aware of the fact that Clark apparently didn’t know about Lophi and Martha and has never fucking once trusted Kon to be responsible for anything but a dog who was already invulnerable and indestructible and that he just personally happened to need a long-term petsitter for. Which might be unfair, a little, but is also objective fact.

So yes, Wally is definitely their best shot here. Especially with Dick hopefully willing to back them up, if it comes to it. If he weighs in too quickly, Bruce will think he’s either biased or being too emotional, but if they can at least start to convince Wally and maybe Diana . . .

“What do you expect us to do, just dump ‘em on Max Mercury or Red Tornado? Go see who’s the Spectre right now?” Cassie demands, folding her arms. “Go dig up Cadmus wherever they’re currently buried, see if they’re hiring kindergartners? Hey, I know, ship ‘em off to Hawaii with a sleazy–!”

“Kenley doesn’t need fostered,” Tim cuts in quickly, because that line of conversation is not ending well no matter what. “We’re their biological parents, and we’re capable of taking care of them to an appropriate standard.”

“That isn’t an acceptable decision for Young Justice to make without input,” Bruce says.

“What is this, a superhero-CPS visit?!” Cassie snaps, clenching her fists. “Based on what, exactly? They’re ours! What’s not ‘acceptable’ is for the Justice League to decide you all get to make decisions about our fucking kid!”

“Also, like, super hypocritical, I’m pretty sure,” Bart says. “Nobody interferes with what any of you guys do with your kids.”

“None of us just kidnapped a kid straight out of a lab, Impulse!” Barry says in exasperation.

“That’d be way too, like, actively proactive, yeah,” Bart agrees, and for just an instant vibrates in a very telling way. His expression doesn’t change, but he’s obviously angry. Very obviously angry.

Maybe not obviously to Barry, though, Tim realizes almost immediately.

“Being patient enough to show restraint isn’t a character flaw, kid,” Barry says, still clearly exasperated.

“You’re being a sprocking nass about this,” Bart says, still staring at him with the same blank expression. “And also a fucking asshole.”

Well, this is going well.

“We’re just concerned about everyone’s safety, including the child’s,” Clark says, lifting a placating hand. Bart scowls, and Cassie bristles. Kon–doesn’t look away from Kenley.

Tim just doesn’t feel particularly “placated”, put it that way.

#core four #tim drake #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #kon el #conner kent #young just us #young justice #dc robin #wonder girl #dc impulse #superboy #wip: yj accidental baby acquisition

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mxtantrights · 8 months ago

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Hello ☺️ I really really enjoyed the boxer jason and your over all jason imagines they make me feral. I was wondering if I could request one where the reader is like all about jason and he isn't used to it and she is like a big ball of sunshine always happy to see jason and will like drop a conversation as soon as he walks into the room and go on over to him.

a/n: anon, thank you so much for this sweet message and this really juicy request!! <333 I'll have to do you one better with this request, I hope you enjoy.

Mr.Stratford is talking about something. Something about his second dog and his third wife. Or maybe it's his third do and his second wife? You can't really tell. At this point you know that he's had three wives and five dogs. And he has so many funny stories about them. He thinks it's funny but you think it's a downright snooze fest.

You keep from yawning when you decide to move a bit. That way you'll have sight of the door and see who's coming in and out. You nod on as the man continues speaking, losing a minute of your life with every word he says.

It's not until a white tuft of hair appears in the doorway do the sparkles come back into your eyes. You hand the man your flute of bubbly and starts fast walking over to him.

Jason sees you coming and holds open his arms. You launch yourself at him. He hugs you back.

"Next time we show up together." you say.

"You just walked away from the mayor of Gotham." Jason says.

"He's got three more months left until reelection. So what." you answer and shrug your shoulders.

You look at him. Taking him all in. The hook of his nose. His eyelashes, that are truly unfair of him to have, and his eyes. His big brown eyes.

You slide your finger down the side of his face, his cheekbone, and smile.

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

You nod slowly, "yeah just can't believe you're mine. It's kinda crazy."

"You're the one out of my league." he tries.

But you counter when you get up and straddle him. With your thighs on either side of his waist you place your hands on top of his chest. He just looks at you, with that face.

He makes the same face whenever you greet him or talk about him to himself. Like he doesn't believe it. Like he thinks it's an illusion or something.

You remind him every day it's not.

"Jason Todd, you are so far out of my league we're not even playing the same sport. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I promise I'll wake up and earn you. Every day." you say.

Jason's eyes go a bit wide. And he holds onto your hands that are place atop his chest. You lean down and press two kisses to the back of his hands.

Jason comes to pick you up at work and it's like the sun is shining again. You fold up your apron and jog around the coffee counter. And when you finally meet him at the door, you stop mere inches from him.

He looks down at you with a smile.

"Hi." he says.

You smile even wider, "Hi Jason."

He shakes his head with a smile and brings you into a hug. You hug him back immediately. He rocks the both of you side to side. He also handles you away from the door to not bump into anyone coming into the coffee shop.

"Ready to go home?" he asks.

You nod as you snuggle further into his chest.

You lose him in a crowd once. once. It only happens once because after the two of you create a game plan. Contingencies upon contingencies to make sure it doesn't happen again.

When you and Jason are in a packed dive bar. Something about it being trivia night and also happy hour and also a celebration for surviving the latest scarecrow attack.

You're by the bar and he's trying to secure a table for the two of you. And you get a bit down trodden when you realize you can't see him near you. You start looking past the dozens of heads but you still can't find him.

So you do the one thing that you remember from a tv show once. You bend down and look at the shoes. As you crab walk through the crowd you pass by so many of them.

Until you can see his familiar brown boots. The noticeable scuff on them that you saw when he put them on just an hour ago. You pick yourself up and see his head amongst the others.

When you finally get within three feet of him you reach out and call to him. He turns around and he smiles.

"Thought I lost you." he says.

"Nope. I just looked for your boots." you answer.

"We've gotta come up with something else. What if I throw these boots away? Or if someone has the same kind?" he asks.

You put your hand on his cheek, "I'll always find you. The boots just made it easier."

#dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #Jason todd #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #dc blurbs

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insonniacaotica · 2 months ago

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Batfamily damn good ao3 tags

This is a list of ao3 tags about batfamily that I think deserve to be used more (semi-serious list)

Canon tags:

• Bruce Wayne's Love Language ('cause yes, we need it) • Cassandra Cain is a Wayne (Because I say so) • Bruce Wayne Gets a Hug (There are many gen fanfics with batkids being comforted but far less with Bruce. Let's give him hugs too.) • Crying Bruce Wayne (I used it once (1) time, it was good, I recommend it) • Damian Wayne Acts Like a Kid (Honestly one of my favorites) • Jason Todd Calls Bruce Wayne "Dad" (I'm just so weak for this tag) • Damian Wayne Has a Heart (he's a kid, stop treating him like a 2D hater murderer) • Batman Needs a Robin (DCU) (I just like this) • Tim Drake Lies to Bruce Wayne (it's a beautiful tag and you know it) • Bruce Wayne Adopts Cassandra Cain (There are like 10 fanfics with this tag. I object) • Stephanie Brown Disobeys Orders (do it for chaos or for angst) • Damian Wayne Tries to Be a Good Sibling (I'm weak for this too) • Evil Genius Tim Drake (just for fun) • Fashion Disaster Dick Grayson (I laughed so hard the first time I read this)

Fanon/not yet canon tags (tags that I have used or seen around on ao3 but that are not recognized as canonical tags):

• Bruce Wayne Adopts Duke Thomas (I will make this tag canon or die trying) • Confused Justice League (not really a batfamily tag but close) • Jason Todd and Damian Wayne escape the League of Assasins (I see this as a sort of subtag of "Jason Todd and Damian Wayne Meet in the League of Assassins" but we should make it a canonical tag) • DC stands for Disregard Canon (It makes me laugh and we use it a lot) • Stephanie Brown Swears (There is a canon tag for Jason's swearing but not for Steph? Unfair) • Sarcastic Stephanie Brown (I just need this to be canon) • Alfred Pennyworth Makes Mistakes (Don't hate me, you know what can happen)

Maybe I'll do a part two. Let me know if you want it <3

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itsnothingofinterest · 5 months ago

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I think the thing that ultimately gets me about how Deku has supposedly inspired away everything that'd lead to more Tenkos turning into Tomuras is...just "why?" Like, why did this:

Happen differently this time? I mean that's a fair question to ask, isn't it? The Walk was effectively the true inciting incident for Tomura, leader of the League, to hate hero society; you'd want a really solid answer as to why that won't happen again I would think.

The narration from Hawks and accompanying imagery implies it's because Deku inspired folks to not sit on the sidelines anymore, further implied to be a Hero Society-wide effect Deku has had that'll supposedly eliminate the bystander effect that led us here and give heroes more free time.

But like...Why is that different from what we've seen of heroes before now? All Might was around for 40 years and Deku, in the end, didn't really do anything AM didn't do; he punched out the big bad for the world to see. And All Might did also inspire people like the origin trio to action...by becoming heroes. Yet civilians like the old lady were inspired to go about her day because a hero would handle it, while Deku inspired her to reach out a hand herself. Why?

I've heard some suggest it's because Deku was less independent, had more of a teamwork focus in his big moment. But I’ve said this before, I think those people assume All Might was a lot more independent than he really was, and Deku a lot less. I mean a lot of Deku's fight was broadcast, including big portions where he was fighting the big bad solo just like All Might in Kamino. And then both fights ended with more heroes coming in to lend support.

So I'm just not seeing why public effect is so radically different.

And it's just that, I have been waiting to see what would prevent more Tomuras from crawling out of the woodworks to destroy even more since MVA; what measures would be taken to prevent that? Perhaps Tomura would destroy hero society, not just its buildings but its corrupt ideals, leadership, & figureheads; and maybe when he was beaten there would be room to rebuild it better from scratch? No, he didn't really destroy much at all actually, and things are being rebuilt just as they were. Would Deku and Tomura perhaps team up going forward after he's saved; with the latter's eyes for what's wrong in the world and the former's ability to fix it without violence? No, Deku kills Tomura because he was just too unforgivable, it's implied he was just after a tasteful way to do that the whole fight. Well, would Deku at least listen to what drove Tomura to villainy and do something about any of that? Nope, if it wasn't his final words to Spinner or their talk about hand holding, it was in one ear and out the other for Deku; and there's no sign he's told many people what little he did learn.

So what saves the Teknos of the world? Well Deku kills the big bad on live TV and it's really inspiring. Why is that different from the past 40 years? ...Horikoshi is to burnt out to answer. That's the ultimate answer to the question I've been asking for nearly 200 chapters.

Well I guess I always knew that if Deku couldn't save Tomura, it'd mean he couldn't save anyone like him. And well, he didn't save Tomura. It's why this plot point of "but they get saved anyway" rings so hollow; it's unearned, unfair, unrealistic, and outright contrived & unbelievable as things have been set-up. I just cannot believe it would work out this way; it is honestly 100 times more believable to suppose the old lady was a guilt-fuelled one-off and most Tenkos will die in the streets or turn to villainy. Especially once this "the villain is dead" high has passed. Because as it is; this resolution as-presented feels as reasonable as our finale in chapter 430 suggesting Deku was so inspirational that no one was ever a villain again either.

#bnha #bnha 429 #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #league of villains #lov #paranormal liberation front #PLF #midoriya izuku #all might #hero society #all for one #hawks #I guess this is just my emotional state going into the final chapter.#How are you guys doing?

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sleepydcpeach · 1 year ago

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just unfair (1) | barry allen⚡

A//N - I didn't think I'd have so much to write about this so this will be a series. My first piece, I have written on Tumblr before but not much. Kinda getting back into the swing of things

warnings are posted for all chapters to come so this chapter is only a few small warnings, mostly angst

“Let me guess, you didn’t wait for orders again and got yourself hurt.” The man in the red suit flashed you a half-hearted smile as he clutched at his side. It seemed to always be the same story with Barry. Finding some way to end up on your table with stitches, bandages, burn cream, whatever it was he seemed to be a target quite often.

“This is going to hurt a bit, I need to dress your ribs.” You explained as he leaned back, his suit torn and his skin ripped.

“Actually, this time, it was something more along the lines of a tree got in my way and trying to go around it and not through it was a lot harder to do than I thought.” You winced at the thought of the impact that would’ve occurred. You began to dab at the wound with warm saline and a towel.

Listening to him go on and on like always, his ramblings were something you had grown accustomed to over the months of knowing Barry.

“Next time you should watch out and listen to me, you’re no help if you’re dead.” Bruce had walked in and made himself known by critisising his squad member.

“How else was I supposed to get her attention.” He grinned at you before screwing his eyes shut in pain at the motion of you cleaning his wound. You shook your head in disapproval but couldn’t hide the smirk that creeped across your lips.

“Get your head on right, before someone gets hurt.” Bruce turned and stormed out, you wanted to say something but bit your lips in an attempt to keep your opinion to yourself.

“Just say it.” Barry broke the awkward silence as he recognised the same expression you always had on your face.

“Say what?” You shrugged as you began placing the dressing on his wound, being very gentle and careful not to press on it.

“You can’t hide it doll, I can see it on your face every time I’m in here with you. You think I’m being reckless.” He said it all actually, it just didn’t feel like it was your place to say that to him.

“When you say it like that you make me sound like I’m the bad guy. I just think, maybe you should be more considerate about how you do things. I can’t help but wonder when the day you come back half dead will be. Or if you even come back at all.” Your heart began to pound against your ribs, anxiety running high as word vomit came out.

“Tell me how you really feel doll.” He teased as he sat up, adjusting himself so slightly in that skin-tight suit. You mentally flogged yourself for taking notice of something dirty in this moment.

“I’m sorry, I just care about you all and don’t want to see anyone get badly hurt. There’s only so much I can do.” You began cleaning your bench, placing his dirty, bloody rags in the bin and steralising your workspace.

Barry always saw the envy you had in your eyes for everyone, their powers and abilities to save the world. He could always tell how badly you wanted to be able to do what they do, but he was thankful you didn’t. The idea of you having powers and at potential risk to lose your life saving someone, he hated to even think it but he was selfish enough to be glad you didn’t. You were just the Justice League nurse.

“So aftercare doc, should I be taking anything? Avoiding anything?”

“Like you even listen to me anyways. No working out, no running at supersonic speed, and make sure you’re careful getting that dressing wet and cleaning it. I’d recommend baths instead of showers to avoid too much exposure to oxygen.”

“Only if you join me.” The pink tint on your cheeks was your weakness, you could never hide your embarrassment, your thoughts. Barry walked out, being very careful not to strain himself too much as he made his way to his room.

You allowed yourself to take a minute and catch your breath, your thighs beginning to gather sweat and arousal as they rubbed together in slight desperation. The thought of Barry taking a hot bath with you, bodies pressed against one another. You needed to stop yourself from letting your imagination take it further.

“Hey doc, how was he?” Canary was always hanging around you, she was the only one who made you feel better on your bad days, besides Barry. She also knew right away when you started to fall for him, constantly finding ways to put you two together. Christmas parties, New Years, she even got you guys to be each others New Years kiss one year but it was nothing crazy.

“Same old flirt, I gotta stop letting him do it. It just eggs me on to like him more.” You double washed your hands after removing your gloves, feeling squeaky clean again and finally back to a clean sterile area.

“You need to do something to show him you’re interested as well. Like the same idea I’ve been suggesting for months now.” You rolled your eyes at her idea, it was too risky, too much on the line for you. It was enough to ruin everything between you and Barry and you weren’t sure what that would mean for your job either.

“I’m just saying, some lingerie, some dirty music, handcuffs—” You bolted towards the door, slamming it shut in attempt to stop any conversation reaching anyone’s ears. Canary wasn’t exactly the quietest person when it came to these conversations.

“Everyone knows about it, he isn’t this way with the others. You’ve seen it yourself, he has a thing for you.”

“I don’t want it to just be a thing Canary! I need to know there’s more there than just want, need and lust. Otherwise what is the point?” You didn’t like raising your voice but it couldn’t be helped sometimes.

The intercom beeped and Bruce’s voice was heard overhead.

“Dinner is ready.” You and Canary left without another word to each other, but your eyes said it all.

Dinner flew by quickly, everyone conversing about their recent victory in battle, sharing their personal hits and wins was something you always enjoyed listening too. It made you feel like you were there as well with them. You had requested to come with them in field to take care of them if they ever got injured but Bruce and Superman didn’t like that idea.

Everyone was at the table eating but Barry hadn’t come down yet, you almost felt like he was avoiding you. But you chose to bury that feeling deep down.

“Hey doc, why don’t you take Barry’s dinner to him. He’s probably caught up watching something.” Hal smirked at you, everyone seemed to be away of your feelings for him and took advantage of embarrassing you when they could. Canary threw her breadroll at Hal to shut him up. You paid no attention and grabbed the plate of almost cold food now, walking down the corridor to his room and knocking lightly.

The door opened before you finish knocking, Barry standing before you with dripping wet hair. His sweats hung loosely around his waist, a small blonde trail of hair from his navel sneaking under the band of his sweats. It wasn’t the first time you had caught him like this, but he seemed to enjoy torturing you with it. You audibly gulped at the sight, a fresh bandage wrapped around his torso.

“Well took you long enough.” He smirked, allowing you to step into his room and watching you place his food down on his nightstand. You avoided any eye contact with him, worried he’d see right through you.

“I thought you might be hungry. It’s important you rest and fuel your body in order to get better. You won’t be going back into the field until you’ve recovered to my standard. When I give you clearance then you can return.” You watched his brows furrow as his door slammed shut.

“I think in this case I don’t think you have that authority to decide that dollface.” You cringed but melted at his pet name he loved to call you. It was better than everyone calling you doc. You weren’t really a doctor, you were technically a nurse but you had become their full time medic after Bruce found you on the streets years ago.

It was a tough time but you managed to fight through it all and get to a great place in life where you weren’t anxious or fearing about where your next meal would come from, where you would sleep for the night.

“Actually I spoke with Bruce and he agreed with me. So if you have an issue then you can take it up with him. You’re not wriggling out of this one Flash.” You rarely used his hero name, it only happened when having a professional conversation with him and it seemed appropriate to do so.

You didn’t notice the way he had slinked closer to you in the moments of discussion, the way your back had met the wall without a thought as he cornered you. His frame was much larger than the average guy you’d know, muscles and veins covered his body from head to toe, it only made you think about what was hidden behind those pants.

You needed to get your mind out of the gutter, but the way he was closing in on you made both your heartbeats throb in sync.

“I’ll make you a deal doll, you sleep in my bed with me for a week while I recover and I won’t even touch my suit.” You almost jumped up and down with glee screaming yes over and over again but you didn’t want to seem eager nor were you sure he was being serious. It was always hard to tell with Barry.

“A week? You won’t be back on your feet for at least 3 weeks.”

“3 weeks it is then. What do you say doll? Deal?” He leaned against the wall, one arm holding him up on his good side as he flashed you the toothiest grin he possibly could. Eyes slightly darkening as they searched for your answer in your eyes.

“Okay but we need some ground rules first.” You weren’t sure what he was trying to do or if you did know and just didn’t want to get too far ahead of yourself.

“Number one, you have to be naked.”

“What!?” You covered your mouth at your own outburst, worried someone might overhear.

“Thems the rules dollface, I sleep naked all the time. Think of it as winter training, your body regulates more heat from being naked.” You rolled your eyes, of course he was mansplaining health advice to the nurse. You moved around him, careful not to bump him and taking a seat on his bed. It felt weird, you were rarely ever in his room. Not for this long anyways unless he had run off with something of yours to stir you up.

“Rules, clothes are always to remain on. Two, pillow wall is not to be crossed.”

“Pillow wall?” He raised a brow, arms crossing his chest and his arms bulging, you wanted to wrap your legs around him and have him fuck you against the wall until you forgot your own name.

“Yes a pillow wall. I don’t like people in my space. Three, lights out at ten. Ten-thirty at the latest. I am on a very strict routine. Any questions?” You pointed your finger at him in a demanding manner, hoping your serious face wouldn’t faulter.

“How clothed is clothed?” You threw a pillow at him in frustration before storming out of his room, hearing his laugh boom down the hallway after you.

‘Week One’

As promised you held up your end of the deal with Barry, agreeing to sleep in his bed with him for the next 21 days when he was deemed fit. You weren’t sure why you agreed to it, well that wasn’t true. You agreed because this was the first time you felt you had a chance to find out how he really felt about you besdies the harmless flirting and random compliments.

You made your welcome known, bringing in your own pillows even though he argued his pillows were better. You just knew he didn’t like the pink crowding his room.

“Hey this is what you agreed to.” Was all you argued when he continued to complain about his room now being 80% pink. You had made yourself at home, and you knew he already regretted it. After spending most of your day moving everything into his room and bathroom you finally got to relax. Laying down on the soft mattress that soothed your sore back, you almost forgot he was laying right next to you.

“So should we talk bathroom schedule? Because this bathroom doesn’t lock, so if you’re taking too long in there and I need to be, you’re gonna be in for a treat.” You tried not to shade pink at the thought of his cock being pulled out right in front of you. Even if it wasn’t for the reason you wanted.

“I’ll try not to hog the bathroom, but please knock at least to give me time to either run out or cover my eyes. I don’t need to be scarred by your micropenis.” You giggled as you watched his jaw drop.

“I’ll have you know that I’m very well endowed. Don’t make me whip it out just for you doll.” You so badly wanted him to pull it out, you tried to think of something else to change the subject.

“So your wound will need to be redressed every two days after this week and then after the next week we’ll see how it goes without a dressing and go from there. It needs a bit of exposure to help it heal. It shouldn’t be too bad though.” You wanted to move on and just let yourself settle for a bit, still feeling on edge about laying in the same bed as Barry.

“Sounds good doll, you feel like watching a movie? Nothing girly, but I’ll let you pick. And I’ll fix us some snacks—ugh.” You were quick to stop Barry from getting up, grabbing hold of his bicep and stomach to hold him and slowly pull him back down to the comfort of his pillows.

“Okay big guy, you definitely need to be taking it easy. I’ll fix us some snacks, and get you something for the pain as well. Wait here and pick something, but it has to be a romcom at least.” His gleeful smile turned into a pouty face at your request for a movie. You made your way to the kitchen, looking through drawers and cupboards to see what was available to eat. Something carb loaded and full of sugar or salt.

“Day one, boy are you guys gonna be annoying to live with for the next few weeks.” You didn’t notice Hal standing there with Martian and Kendra eyeing you down as you happily waddled into the kitchen.

“Annoying how?”

“Like I wanna hear you two fucking all the time. My room is right next to his, the last thing I need to hear is ‘keep thrusting your micropenis in me’ all night.” You knew Hal was just trying to get everyone to laugh at him and pick on you. It made you a little stung actually that he was poking fun at Barry, that was your right only.

“Actually I think you’d hear something a bit more along the lines of ‘oh fuck! Oh fuck! Yes right there Barry! Fuck! Fuck me harder Barry, fuck me just like that please! I’m cumming! I’m cumming—”

“Whose coming?” You jumped at Barry’s voice from behind you, yelping as you slammed your back against the fridge.

“What are you doing up? You need to be resting.” You growled as you got up in his space, pointing your finger at him in a demanding manner.

“Well it wasn’t fair that the person you were pretending to fuck wasn’t in the room. So thought I’d come join and see what I’m in for.” You grabbed the band of his pants, pulling him out of the room and back to his own bed.

“I loved hearing you scream my name by the way, that’s something I’d only ever dreamed of.” You wanted to slap him, you had never been so humiliated before. Your eyes actually began burning from losing sensation and tears beginning to brim. You let go of Barry, standing with your back facing him and slightly hunched over. It went quiet, really quiet. He stopped talking when he noticed you weren’t moving or reacting anymore.

“Dollface I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I thought we were kidding around. I wouldn’t actually expect anything from you just cause we are sharing a bed.” The silence was louder than anything you’d heard. You felt him touch your shoulder, he had never seen you cry before. Not directly, instead of allowing him to apologuse and comfort you, you chose to lock yourself in your office.

Barry knew he could’ve stopped you from doing so, his ability to outrun you his advantage. But he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had.

You had been hidden in your office for majority of the day, Barry had tried knocking and getting you to come out but when he got no response chose to leave you alone. Everyone tried, Canary, Martian, even Bruce when he got back from his mission. When they realised they weren’t going to get you out of there they decided to wait it out.

“She’s been in there all day, no food. Nothing. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you thought maybe using that thick head of yours to-I don’t know-apologise sincerely? Maybe pour your heart out a little so she can see you’re vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable?” Kendra rolled her eyes, feeling like she was talking to a brick wall she gestured for him to leave and go try you again.

You had been reorganising your drawers and cabinets, something that just made you feel a bit better when things were tough. Barry knocked on your door once again, waiting for a minute to hopefully hear your voice or at least the lock click.

“Doll…please let me in. I really just want you to know, I care about you. I appreciate you and I never meant to make you feel humiliated or bad about what I said. It wasn’t right. I love you like you’re my own blood you know?” His own blood. He felt about you the way he would a sister, or a mother. Not a potential lover, a potential girlfriend or wife even. It hurt, it really did but you didn’t want to keep punishing him.

You clicked the door, opening it and he practically threw himself onto you. Arms so big and snug, it made you feel safe and warm. His nose pressed against your neck, inhaling your scent and releasing a sigh of relief. You couldn’t not forgive him, but you were hesistant about sharing a bed with him now that nothing would ever come of it.

But maybe this was your chance to change his mind about you. So it would seem that Canary’s idea might just work after all.

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aftonfamilyvalues · 5 months ago

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how women on here are reacting to the boxing situation is the final straw for me with radblr tbh.

like imagine this scenario for a second: people are making false claims about you that you not only can easily disprove with a simple, uninvasive test, but you've ALREADY DONE said test in the past so you'd just need to ask them to publish the results. you can debunk these claims with the same amount of effort required to push a button.

but you don't. you have Literally The Easiest Option In The World to prove you're right and you don't do it.

and yet because women have created their own OC for this guy in their heads who is a female with androgen issues they'd rather defend their self-made blorbo as a way to peacock about how "yes all women" and/or "not racist" they are than do 2 seconds of research and critical thinking to realize "hey maybe this situation that fits literally all the criteria for the dude being a male, including the fact that he's been previously disqualified from competing in the women's league TWICE yet shows up for the Female Olympics anyway, means he's actually just a liar and cheater"

i'm open to having some sympathy for him if his parents (tried to*) raise him as a girl but like. he's a fucking adult. he took a sex test. he knows who he is now. he's making his own decisions. one of these decisions is choosing to hide who he is.

*idc how misogynistic his parents are in believing "no vagina??? but no penis. no penis = female. because female = non-male.", if they knew he had a male-specific dsd that coloured how they raised and treated him, even if they tried to hide it. the act itself of hiding it from him and trying not to raise him that way makes their treatment of him already inherently different from how they'd raise him if he were actually female.

link here

im going to try to go about this in the most respectful way possible.

i cant say i agree with everything youre saying here. theres still a lot of misinformation about this and i cant say a slatz tweet is very satisfying for me given the racist and homophobic things ive seen from her. but, if what you say is true, that this boxer is an intersex male who was assigned female at birth, i think its completely unfair to treat her entirely as a man. the community tends to regard itself as a place for intersex women too, those with this particular dsd were not spared misogyny just because they unknowingly had xy chromosomes. learning they are biologically male with a dsd doesnt mean they have a desire to completely restructure their lives and identity around being men, i think thats kind of insane to expect.

that being said, i think there needs to be a reevaluation of fairness in sports and how intersex people fall into it. what advantages or disadvantages do intersex women carrying a y chromosome have over those that dont? what male charactistics (bone density, for example) still exist in these women? do they pose a danger to other women in their sport? what about other intersex conditions? at what point does it become unfair? unfortunately it could lead to their exclusion, and if that happens will there be another place for them? theres a lot to consider and things will have to change as we learn more. its not really a black and white situation in my opinion.

#ask

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fearoftheminotaur · 10 months ago

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Thoughts on Ricken Hale

I've seen some meta to the effect that Ricken is being set up as a sort of foil to Kier Egan. Kier's family is trying to turn him into a patriarchal god through the worship of his Lumon manual, a mix of religious commands for submission and advice for feeling contented at work, while Ricken has a league of sycophants ready to hear out his vanity projects and discuss his book at a moment's notice.

But what I've been thinking about is what Devon sees in Ricken, as well as what makes his book not just compelling to the Innies, but deprogramming. And of course, it's the fact that what Ricken lacks in humility, or accuracy, he makes up for in his ability to explain basic things about the world to someone who has no experience of it.

He also does seem to have his heart in the right place at times. He does care about Mark and wants to reconcile with him, he is scared of becoming like his own father, and even in his public reading he tries to put his focus on Eleanor, even when his "friends" are unwilling to engage with her existence.

To Mark and Dylan, reading Ricken's basic anti-establishment, vaguely pro-labor rhetoric is like a crash course in every human sentiment that led to this book existing. Believe in yourself, your job isn't everything, sometimes the world around you is unfair and wrong. These are huge to what are essentially, sheltered children living in a strict orphanage. The absent idealized patriarch of Kier, versus the flawed, compassionate, teacher in Ricken.

So maybe Devon chose Ricken because, for better or worse, and right or wrong, he seemed like he would make a good dad.

#severance #ricken hale #kier egan #devon hale #devon scout-hale #devon scout

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spunkykirby · 8 months ago

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Uhm...I found another potential flaw mihoyo needs to confront about Neuvillette and his Archon Trials:

...how exactly is he playing both the Plaintiff and the Judge???

This "legal" case would present several significant flaws:

1. Conflict of Interest. Neuvillette would be responsible for both presenting their case and making decisions on the outcome, creating a clear conflict of interest. The archons don't even need to point this out, the jury would be questioning this from the get go (especially when Neuvi has never acted as both before, nor has anyone in all of fontaine's history).

2. Bias: It's likely that Neuvi would be biased in favor of his own interests (he's the one who enforced the "come to trial or there's Violence™ in the first place anyway), leading to potential unfair rulings and potentially denying the opposing party a fair trial.

3. Violation of Due Process: The principles of due process, which ensure fair treatment and impartiality in legal proceedings, would be compromised if one person held BOTH roles. I understand the PO did this but Neuvillette is not the PO and touts a lot about being impartial and true Fairness. He is not embodying that if he projects his grievances with only the PO onto the people who aren't the PO nor did they do the PO's exact crime.

4. Loss of Confidence in the Legal System. Such a setup would undermine public trust and confidence in the legal system, as it goes against fundamental principles of fairness and justice. Once again, highly doubt it has ever happened in all of Fontaine's history.

This scenario would likely be considered a severe violation of judicial ethics. It would be called a conflict of interest, where the individual holding both roles has a personal stake in the outcome of the case (Justice for Dragons™ but then again it's NOT against their actual Perpetrator™ which is THE PO), compromising the integrity of the legal process.

SOLUTION(S):

1. Get someone else to act as the Judge. Would be hilarious for it to be Furina. She'd be familiar with the court and no longer needs to speak in bias since she's not masquerading as the Archon. Additionally she has experience/understanding from both sides. Main issue of course being: topic of gods is an anxiety inducing thing for her...though this time it has nothing to do with her.

2. Someone else to act as the Plaintiff. This is iffy. It'd have to be a person with extensive knowledge on the old world and/or Teyvat's true history while being in agreement with Neuvillette. But this would also potentially spark the conflict of interest thing again, cause they could be said to be put there as an agent for Neuvillette/a slimy way for Neuvi to act in both positions.

They may be archons, but they're far from being fools. They have leagues of experience dealing with these situations; they're not walking into one that's obviously drenched in bias against them and they serve to gain nothing from it (well, nothing but harm/death and potentially affecting their denizens).

Two ways to dodge that would be to put either Furina or maybe some Natlantean on stand.

#zhongli #neuvillette #venti #nahida #ei #genshin impact #genshin lore #Fontaine

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inkk-tv · 4 days ago

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[ ꜰᴏᴏᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘᴜʙ ɢᴏʟꜰ : ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ]

Admittedly, it's only when she's standing in the park across from the first pub that she realises exactly what she's gotten herself into. "This feels unfair." "Aw, come on Luce," Arthur says with half a smile, swapping his t-shirt for their team kit. "Have a bit of faith."

in which: Lucy is reluctantly recruited into Chris' pub golf video at the last minute, but it turns out to be very worth it.

4.7k words [ masterlist ]

[oc x arthurtv x chrismd] [warnings: excessive drinking, sexual inudendos]

There’s a certain risk that comes with renting an office in a building full of youtubers. Mainly being ambushed in the kitchen by a camera for a reaction or her two cents on whatever challenge video was underway is not an uncommon occurrence. Although, being fully roped into a video is never too far out of the realm of possibility.

Luckily, there’s only one person with the gaul to break into her office, and that’s Chris.

It’s been affectionately nicknamed, ‘the fishbowl’.

Sitting right on the hallway's bend, with two walls and a giant door of nothing but glass that means anyone who steps out the lift can see right into her office. Hence the name. Once she showed up to find someone had stuck fish and bubble stickers all over the windows- she’s pretty sure it was Sam, who does all her captioning, but she’s never gotten him to confess it.

It’s a pretty decent workspace despite the lack of privacy. Lucy’s desk is off to one side, and the three desks for her London-based employees are in a little cluster to the right of it. Only Shelly, the head editor and Lucy had been in today, but it’s nearing five pm and Shelly had headed off about twenty minutes prior, so it’s just Lucy hauled up alone working on a script as she hides from the rest of the building.

Chris invites himself in. As always. For some reason, the wall of glass just doesn’t present the same barrier to him as it does to everyone else.

She glances up as the door hinges open, the soundproofing scraps against the carpet before closing with a soft click. There’s something a little frantic in his expression- not exactly panic, but stress maybe- and he’s got a white monster energy can that's dripping condensation in one hand and a takeaway bag from the fish and chip shop two blocks over that uses the perfect amount of salt, in the other.

Lucy is no fool. She knows a bribe when she sees one. "No."

All the tension leaks from his shoulders as Chris heaves a defeated sigh, falling back onto the two seater couch just inside the door. "But I haven't even asked yet."

"But you brought me an incentive." She points out and Chris leans over to thunk the can down on the corner of her desk he could reach. Lucy scrunches her nose up at the ring of water that settles underneath it. "You didn't even do that last time and that involved having footballs booted at me for three hours."

Objectively, Lucy has fun on the ChrisMD channel. She’d always been an active person and while the dreams of being a professional athlete did not work out for her like many others, she does still like sports, especially if they’re team based. Chris’s videos are perhaps the most fun variant of them she’s experienced since quitting her Sunday league team back in uni.

But Lucy drew a hard line in the sand after the break up.

The problem with having fun on Chris’ videos, is that somewhere along the line, wires got a bit crossed. Lucy isn’t really all too sure when it happened, but she remembers realising. Looking at Chris, and realising she fancied him. It was four months before, and she spent all of it agonising over every conversation they had, kicking herself for liking a taken man, beating herself up over every word or glance as the guilt of it all ate away at her.

Then he was single and the biggest motivator for Lucy to shut her fucking mouth and stomp down her feelings, she got a little worried things would run away from her. She wasn’t keen to make a mess of things, in private or on the internet, so she took a step back.

It does help that in her last appearance on the ChrisMD channel, she took a particularly solid shot from Simon Minter to the stomach during the World Cup Ball video. A few days later, Lucy's flatmate had bullied her into going to A and E where they found out she’d managed to acquire a cracked rib.

Simon- bless him- still apologises every time she runs into him.

Lucy doesn’t know how to thank him for giving her a reasonable excuse to avoid Chris for an extended period of time.

"You had fun." Chris points out with a roll of his eyes, unpacking the takeaway bag to set two boxes on the coffee table in front of him, opening one and digging into a calamari meal.

"And a broken bone."

Another sigh. "This isn't goal keeping."

Lucy's hands still over her keyboard, little cursor blinking on page is of what was going to be a 12 page script. She huffs a breath, telling herself that she will at least hear the man out.

It was a stupid thing really, fancying him. It’s probably one of those prolonged exposure things, she spent so much time with him that things got blurry in her mind. But the controlled exposure has been working. No more nights out if he was going and no one on one hang outs for the past few months have really helped her get a handle on things. Make the lines of platonic and romantic a little clearer in her head.

Even if he’s grown a beard that looks annoyingly good on him. She’s allowed to appreciate it without fancying him. Or at least, that’s how she tries to tell her flatmate.

Lucy had put measures in place, a little bit of distance to get over her puppy crush and they had been working.

The little bubbliness she used to get has been smothered in the past few months. They’d done Chip’s karting race together just fine and she’s been significantly more invested in the occasional hinge date she secures. Lucy’s building her way up towards nights out again, knowing that he’ll be there and trusting her mouth to not run away from her. Maybe filming with him would be good- keeping her contained to the version of herself that the internet is allowed to see, the version that never fancied one of her coworkers.

When she pushes her chair out from the desk and turns to level Chris with a look, considering it for a few long moments before sighing and looking up to the ceiling, already regretting what she hasn't agreed to yet. There's a smile on Chris' face - he knows he's won. Apparently, Ciaran Carlin managed to snag himself a case of food poisoning the day of Chris' 'pub golf' shoot ("thought you did football content" - "Its football themed.") so they were down one whole player. Hence why Chris was there, a few moments from dropping to his knees to beg.

Lucy is, admittedly an outlier amongst the office. At least in terms of content creation. It's actually the Fellas Studio building, but those who invested in the business to help the boys get it up and running, like Chris and Lucy, have their own office space inside. She makes video essays with the occasional social commentary video mixed in - a far cry from Chris' football challenges or the min-maxing style of videos that seems to have taken over the platform in the last few years.

So their friendship has stayed mostly off camera, as she doesn’t often have people on her main channel, posting occasional vlogs on her second channel but he’s only ever made the cut once or twice. The most the internet knows of Lucy Bell and Chris Dixon is that he’s roped her into a few football challenges over the years.

When it comes to Chris’s channel, Lucy does make for a good feature. She’s just tipped over four million subscribers in the last few months, with almost a completely different audience, so it brings in a lot of new viewers. She’s not half bad at football either, a few years playing football in uni meant she could keep up with most of the UK YouTube scene if Chris begged nicely enough.

"Alright, but it’s an extra twenty quid for each time you bite me."

The biting gets her every time. She’s always had a bit of a thing for it, teeth marks and hickeys. It’s a condition that Lucy adds to save her own sanity more than anything.

See, there’s something about Chris when he’s drunk that just makes the man want to bite. Sink his teeth into whichever friend is closest after a pint or two. Doesn’t matter where, hand arm or neck- he’s even gone for her ear once. He’s not handsy per-say, because none of it was sexual really, but it couldn’t be called clingy either because he got way too mean.

Cuteness aggression seems to fit the bill. But no matter what someone was to call it, the fact is, Chris gets his teeth out when he’s drinking.

Maybe charging him for it will be enough to remind him not to.

Chris grins. "Done."

Turns out, the pub golf ‘night-out’ she had been lured into starts at one pm.

Admittedly, it's only when she's standing in the park across from the first pub that she realises exactly what she's gotten herself into. "This feels unfair."

The line up was clearly in no way designed for fairness. With the 'English team' consisting of Lucy, Chris and Arthur-TV, going against the 'German Team' of Stephen Tries, Bambino Becky and Harry Wroetoshaw.

Now Lucy isn’t a lightweight- at least not proportionally. For a woman of five five, she could hold her drink. But Chris Dixon on the other hand, who was the same height, most definitely was a lightweight. There was not a whole lot of faith to be put in their alcohol tolerance.

"Aw, come on Luce," Arthur says, swapping his t-shirt for their team kit. "Have a bit of faith."

She ducks her head to hide the quick frown that flashes over her face. There’s only two people who call her ‘Luce’ and that’s Chris and her flatmate, Spencer. It’s obvious where he’s picked it up from and the thought of Chris chatting about her to one of his friends with such familiarity is enough to make her stomach flutter. Today was not going to be good.

Lucy's met Arthur before, in passing. At parties or events, seen him at the office once or twice when he'd presumedly come to film with someone. He’s good friends with George and Arthur Hill too. She knows him and Chris have been mates since school, and that he's one of the most frequent victims of the ChrisMD channel. Miraculously, she's never ended up on a set with him before.

She hopes he holds his drink well.

"A little hard to have faith when Becky and Harry are gonna drink us under the table." She says, thumbing at the team jersey she’s been given.

It’s soft, more so than she expected.

Football has never much been Lucy’s thing. She was on a team during her uni years, but that was more social than competitive. She owns a couple of kits, her old uni jersey that was mainly a work shirt and the Brighton Jersey her brother bought her for Christmas one year- Lucy makes sure to wear it whenever she watches a game. But that’s about the extent of it, she’s never had much reason to go buy an official kit.

But apparently for the football-ification of pub golf, team jerseys were a must.

The tag says it’s their away kit from the 1990 world cup and the fabric is so abrasively red, Lucy feels like a stop sign when she pulls it on. It doesn’t help that it was originally bought for Ciaran, so it’s two sizes too large. Sadly it completely tanks her outfit, the black skater skirt and platform mary-janes with lacy white socks had gone so much better with the cosy white knit sweater she’d started the day in, but it does sort of work. Even if it makes her look like a pick-me girl.

The collar slips about on her shoulders and Lucy pulls the collar about a little, trying to make it sit properly, which apparently, Chris takes as an invitation.

He comes up from behind and drapes his arms over her shoulders- not exactly unusual behaviour from him, but it does typically take a few more drinks. There’s not even a moment of hesitation before Chris sinks his teeth into the meat of her shoulder, biting down. Not hard enough to hurt exactly, more like a pinch.

She doesn’t yelp but grunts a little, swatting at his hair to duck out of his grip. When he backs off, there’s a dark semi-circle on the jersey, highlighting where he’d bitten at the material. “Right. That’s twenty quid then.”

Chris blinks, then rolls his eyes. “What? No, come one. We haven’t even started filming yet.”

He’s smiling though, watching as Lucy digs a black marker out of her purse and bites the lid off to draw a thick line on the inside of her right forearm. “A deal is a deal, Chris.”

“We’ll if we’re keeping track like that, someone else has to be in charge of the pen.” He plucks it from her fingers and Lucy goes to swipe it back but he pulls it up high above both their heads.

She could snatch it back. They’re about the same height; every time someone whips out a tape measure they end up with a different answer to who is taller, so it always depends on the shoes. Today, she’s even wearing platforms with more than enough heel to beat out Chris' white air forces but Lucy’s not sacrificing a single sliver of her dignity to jump for the marker.

Perhaps realising that she’s not taking the bait, he holds it out to Arthur instead, who has been watching them with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this then?”

“Lucy agreed to be in the video, if I paid her twenty pounds each time I bit her.” Chris says, looking a little proud of himself for some reason, as if wrangling her into a video was some sort of impressive feat. “But I don’t trust her to not just draw a bunch of lines.”

“Damn. That’s smart, you’ll make a couple hundred quid today, easy.” Arthur plucks the marker out of Chris’ fingers and looks at it a little funny. “Will you give me twenty every time you bite me?”

The marker is tucked away into the pocket of his shorts with a grin.

“You were coming no matter what.”

“With you looking like that, damn right I was.” Arthur holds his hand up for a high-five, probably more of a reflex than anything. Chris doesn't go for it, but Lucy does, swinging up to her tiptoes, to clap her palm against his.

“Come on,” He grins at Lucy, keeping their hands clasped for a few seconds with the momentum and it has her feeling a little better about the afternoon ahead.

One of the film crew, Sam she thinks his name is, waves Lucy over to mic her up. They make their way through the ‘before game interviews’, with the warning they will be spliced with the aftermath that was to be recorded at the last pub.

"Are you going to enjoy today?" Chris pokes the mic against the tip of her nose and Lucy scrunches it up a little at the feeling of scratchy foam.

"Considering I was bribed to be here, no." She plays the reluctant friend well, but they both know she’d been happy to help Chris out in his time of crisis and that she probably wouldn’t end up chasing him up about the money she was supposedly charging him per bite.

The first two holes (“It’s Goal, Luce. Use the right terminology.”) left their team with a rather bleak outlook.

Lucy’s played enough drinking games in her life to be able to down a pint in one go, so that isn’t a problem. She chugs the IPA, so while it’s down in one, Lucy is left with a bitter taste in her mouth, complaining to the table that if she was forced to drink beer, it should at least be lager. Arthur and Chris both down theirs in one, but are cautioned for shit jokes and chose to do a shot each instead of taking the additional points.

The second pub is no hands, white sambuca shots, but they get a bench so it’s not much hassle to lean down and get her lips around the glass rim and knock it back.

But when they’re done, and Arthur’s wandered off, her, Chris and Harry pounce on his backpack to turn it inside out. It makes her feel like she’s back in secondary playing silly pranks when someone leaves their bag unattended. Tragically he comes back with the news that he’s thrown up. Twice. There’s an attempt to blame the McDonalds wrap he’d scranned a bit too quickly but Calfreezey is not a forgiving referee and they are penalised three points, leaving them at seven as Chris has failed to down his shot in one.

“We are not winning that dominos pizza.” Arthur whines, frowning down at his inside out bag.

Lucy holds her hands out, an unspoken gesture that he accepts with a smile and starts piling his belongings into her hands. “Cheer up Mr.Television. I’ll Deliveroo one to the last pub.”

“And ruin Chris’ incentive? Where’s your competitive spirit Miss Bell?” He quips back, grabbing a fist full of his bag’s canvas and turning it back out the right way, shoving his pencil case and jacket back into it.

There’s an instinct to roll her eyes at the last name but fair is fair. She did sort of do it to him first. “I think winning for us is already a lost cause. Becky and Harry can outdrink us all.”

Arthur zips his bag up and swings it over his shoulders, heading for the door but glancing back at her as he speaks. “Not Stephen?”

“He’s more of a mascot I think.” Lucy muses, skipping up to his side and out the door as he holds it with one hand. “Like Chris.”

“Fair enough, they are the two lightweights.” He says, jutting his chin out to where Chris and Stephen were squabbling a good hundred metres up the footpath. “You seem a bit better at handling the beers than Chris to be honest.”

She can’t quite stop the way her nose scrunches at the memories of parties and chundering in bushes out the front of train stations. Lucy hisses through her teeth. “Yeah, I had a few too many nights out in Uni. Spiked my tolerance.”

There’s this little quirk of Arthur’s head, like he’s a curious cat that’s been offered a toy mouse to play with. “I didn’t know you went to uni, what did you study?”

“Journalism. Hence the video essays- if you know what kind of videos I do.”

“Not to brag, but I'm kind of subscribed.” He puts on a little bit of a voice, an impression of the typical ‘nice guy’ when he says it with an exaggerated roll of the eyes that earns a smile.

“Really?” This time it’s Lucy who’s tilting her head, peering up at him a little from under the few loose strands of hair that hang over her forehead and it makes Arthur sort of sheepish.

“Oh yeah,” He pulls out his phone and opens the youtube app. She’s in his subscriptions tab, along the top bar even. “I really like the rage bait one. And the one about the barbie movies.”

“You actually watch my videos?” He must do. The rage bait one was recent but Lucy’s deep-dive into the animated barbie movies of the early two-thousands was from her uni days, buried under six years of more recent uploads.

“Yeah, they’re good. Informative, funny.”

Lucy blushes. “Flattery gets you everywhere, Arthur. I’ll check out your channel after today, promise.”

“It’s not much, a lot of reality TV content- hence the name. I started with Airline freakouts and ended up with ninety-day fiancé.” He holds out his phone for her to take with his own channel pulled up.

She flicks though, and it is admittedly a lot of ninety-day fiancé, but when she flicks the ‘popular’ filter on, some of the thumbnails look kind of familiar. “Wait, like the old ‘Airline UK’ show? I used to watch some of those.”

Arthur grins. “Really?”

“Yeah, just compilations of the passengers screaming at the easy jet desk.”

There’s a mental note to watch them when she gets home (pr depending on how drunk she ends up, tomorrow) and see if they’re familiar.

It happens every now and then, watching a video then realising years later you’ve just met the person who made it. A couple of months after meeting George Clarkey at the gym she realised she’d watched him chase a beep around his garage on tiktok a year earlier.

“Maybe you saw some of mine.” Arthur offers a little shyly, as if he’s nervous about suggesting it. “They did decent numbers. It’s how I got started with youtube.”

“Yeah?”

He hums in agreement. “Needed something to pay the bills in Uni and youtube ended up being way more fun than Law.”

Lucy can’t help the judgemental tone that sneaks into her voice. “You studied Law?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He scoffs with a smile.

“No you’re just nicer than all the other law students I met while in Uni. Most of them were right pricks.”

Especially the one she’d dated in second year. He’d been good at first, but after a couple of pints he was anyone's. The guy played up on her all the time and it wasn’t until he tried hitting on the first year who’d just moved into Lucy’s student Accommodation that she finally called it off.

After that, all the law students who tried to chat her up at the Uni bars left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Not Arthur though. He isn’t quite a law student, she supposes, he’s a youtuber and Lucy does get on well with most of the UK scene. They were a good bunch and any of the dickheads were pretty easy to weed out- there is a couple she fully avoids, simply because she couldn’t be arsed putting up with them. Lucy scribbles Arthur’s name on the mental list of people she wouldn’t mind chatting to at the next party.

He’s got decent chat, certainly better than some of the dull people she’s put up with out of politeness and when he smiles, it’s a flash of pearly white. Teeth that all line up perfect- save for his pointed canines. She could stand to see it a bit more often, carve out some space for it in her chest amongst the fluttering of butterflies. “Flattery gets you everywhere, Luce.”

“Hurry up you two, stop dawdling!” Chris shouts from out the front of pub number three.

They wave him off with a few jeered ‘yeah, yeah’s but do pick up the pace a little.

“I meant to ask earlier,” Arthur says. “Want to put your purse in my bag? it looks like it’s bothering you.”

Her purse has been bothering her. It was the one she’d taken into the office and was more for fashion than function, a little black leather crossbody bag that she’s had over one shoulder so it doesn't make her boobs look weird on camera. It’s only really got her phone, earbuds and keys in it. She’s been keeping it at her hip with one hand but it’s getting tiring. “Yeah, thanks Arthur.”

He tucks it away gently, with much more care than he’d had with his own portable charger and pencil case a few minutes earlier. Arthur’s sweeter than she expected.

Not many of the youtube boys were sweet. Nice, friendly even, but part of being amongst them meant she could take the banter and hard hitting. Catch hurled comments that strangers would say border on cruel with her bleeding hands and hurl them back. There’s an added layer, being a woman online appearing on channels with a male dominated audience. A thick oily sheen that taints the comments of collab videos.

But Lucy has managed to find the youtubers she could stomach, some of which she spends more time with than others. George is her gym buddy, even if he’s been slacking lately. Will lacks enough of a social life that he tends to rot in the office just as late as she does so they always end up ordering Deliveroo and shit talking for an extra hour or two. She doesn’t mind the occasional pint with Harry or Tobi either. They’re all sweet, but sweet enough that it's threatening to make her blush? Well, only Chris made that far.

Lucy tucks that thought away and settles into the seat at the end of the table, tapping the toes of her shoes together idly as the production team set up go-pros and camera angles.

Pub number three was goalie rules. Six seconds to down a pint and it had to be done with keeper gloves.

All six sets set on the table are Large and it looks utterly ridiculous when they all don the gloves. Black and green leathery material that’s oddly padded on the inside, it feels weird enough that it sort of captivates her for a few moments, the new sensation against her hands. Lucy keeps balling her fists up then splaying her fingers again, listening to the scrunch of them before pressing her hands flat against the table to feel the padding compress and spring back up slightly when she released the pressure.

Arthur has a similar reaction, although he just starts running his hands over everything. From the wooden table to his own legs. Down Lucy’s right forearm where it rests on the table, over Chris’s head. The latter of which, he does so much that it actually gets a reaction, which Lucy is starting to think most of Arthur’s oddities don’t.

“Stop rubbing my head!” Chris squeaks, ducking away from Arthur’s widespread palms that are messing up his quiff. “Rub the head I want to be rubbed!”

Lucy snorts into her keeper glove when Chris gestures rudely to his crotch and Stephen goes to kick it from under the table.

Thankfully, before things can devolve into more dick jokes, a member of Chris’s team brings over a tray of pints.

Lucy and Arthur both get it down in one, but Chris fails- laughing after about an inch and having to set the drink down. Easy to say, no one is impressed and he earns them a yellow card for time wasting.

“How have you done worse than the females?” Arthur jokes, setting Chris’ still half full glass between Lucy and Becky’s empty ones.

“We’ll take ourselves back to the kitchen.” Becky declares, raising a hand for a high five that Arthur meets- an assurance that it’s all jokes- before leaning in to stage whisper to Lucy. “There might be pints in there.”

Despite England's mostly good performance, Calfreezy once again proves that he’s out to get them as he issues two yellows and a red card. Lucy and Chris take the penalty shots- tequila upon request- and there’s three points added to their tally as well.

It burns the back of her mouth and stings against her tongue. Whichever production member had fetched their shots did not return with the curiosity of a chaser. Still, it’s easier to down than a pint so Lucy takes what she can get.

Although, everyone seems to be under the impression that it’s going to finish her. Probably because she keels over coughing after getting it down. It’s the closest Lucy’s come to spitting out a drink all afternoon, which is saying something considering the IPA at the first pub was utter shit.

Her reaction has Steven so confident in his team’s performance that he starts demanding forfeits, anything from shots of the winners choice to public spankings in ‘piccadilly square’.

While Lucy focuses on not tripping over the drag of her platform shoes, the taste of tequila lingers on her tongue and haunts her all the way to the next pub.

[ masterlist ] [ part two, coming soon... ]

ink note: and we are underway! thanks so much for reading! feel free to send asks about the fic or check out the notes at the bottom of Lucy's masterlist to see how this fic is going to develop.

[ if you would like to be added to the fic's tag list, let me know in an ask and you'll be tagged when each chapter goes up :) ]

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