#and you DO still need to take from me with regularity

[talon-the-hawk]

Yandere! Batfam x Neglected Streamer! Reader

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Chapter 2: Entertainment

TW: I mean...kinda yandere behaviour...but it's a yandere fic so like if you're not into that why are you reading this far into the post? 🥲

It started off small.

A hushed giggle from Garfield as he watched something on his phone just out of Dick's line of sight.

An amused snort as Roy scrolled his phone in boredom when chilling at one of Jason's safehouses.

Konner and Jon commenting on "a new stream they saw" while over at the manor, leaving Damian and Tim confused and oblivious.

Your popularity in the content creation community was growing rapidly by the day, with your range of viewers extending out of Gotham and moving world wide. You gained a steady community of fans, with some even sending you gifts and letters. Of course, you made sure to use a P.O box to conceal your address in case someone somehow linked you to your past life as Bruce Wayne's child. Through maintaining a semi-regular streaming schedule mixed with uploading to youtube every month left you with quite a chunk of cash in your pocket. So much infact, that you soon decided to drop the couple of college courses you were taking to pursue your content creation career full time.

With the added fame came opportunities to collab. Soon enough you were streaming with the people you used to idolize. It was almost a power trip, the way you ended up being a figure that was adored so commonly.

Adored. Shown affection, unlike when you were with them.

Surprisingly enough, Damian was the first to find out. Damain: the little brother who had taunted you endlessly, mocked you in front of everyone, and showed little remorse for any of it.

Jon was giggling on his phone, eyes stuck to his screen as he watched a youtube video of some sort during one of their many hangouts.

" Tch, can't you put that device down for one moment?" Damian huffed, looking over at the boy.

"Aw, lighten up. Come watch with me." Jon chirped, motioning for Damian to sit down next to him. He reluctantly agreed, posture still slightly too stiff as he sat down on the couch next to Jon. The youngest Kent propped his phone up in his hands, eager to show his friend the newest content creator he had found. His finger hit the play button, and it only took a couple seconds for Damian's eyes to narrow in recognition.

Surely not.

It sounded like you. There was no mistaking it, the same soft timbre that he would make choke up with tears now rang out confidently in an enrapturing way. Each word seemed to catch the complete attention of everyone who watched, bringing a sort of comfort that settled itself in his ribs.

When did they get so popular? Does Bruce know his child is building a reputation anonymously?

It was clear to Damian when he looked over at Jon that the youngest super had no idea it was you, and he supposed that made sense. Often times when Jon came over Damian made a bigger show of ostracizing you from the rest of the family. Now that he really thought about it, he realized that Jon had never really heard you speak in person. You had always tried to get out of Damian's vicinity whenever you spotted him, especially when he was with Jon.

Jon clearly saw he was lost in thought, snapping his fingers in front of Damian's face.

"Hello? Earth to Damian?"

Damian's gaze just slowly returned to the small device.

"I need to go find someone, I'll be back."

For Dick, he was doom scrolling on instagram one night after patrols when a certain reel made him pause. It was a clip one of your viewers had taken from a stream a while back, one where a fan of yours had made a huge donation. The donation requested you to share some sort of talent you had, and as per your usual antics you focused your camera on your new bedroom (still wearing a mask and sunglasses to keep yourself as unidentifiable as you could) and prepared.

"God, this is embarrassing. I actually learned how to do this a while back in order to try and impress some of my family, but that's a story for another time-" You snorted, before flipping over to walk on your hands. You did a little lap around your space before eventually standing back up, pushing the glasses back up the bridge of your nose to make sure they didn't fall.

There was no mistaking it was you, he'd recognize his baby bird anywhere. But what he wasn't prepared for was your small show of talent. He tried to recall any previous instances of you showing an interest in any sort of acrobatics, but his mind came up blank. Matter of fact, he was struggling to come up with a recollection of any of your hobbies.

Surely you've talked to him about something you were interested in before, no? He was your older brother, he should know about your hobbies.

Dick racked his brain, trying to come up with any memory of even holding a proper conversation with you, and his guilt seemed to increase every time he came up empty. He vaguely recalled a time you had asked to show him "something you thought he would like", but he had brushed it off as it was close to the time he was set to patrol.

He bit down on his bottom lip in guilt, clicking on the caption of the reel and trying to see if the person had tagged your official account. They hadn't (which honestly he found insulting, the clip was your hard work and this pathetic internet leech couldn't even be bothered to give you credit-) but in the hashtags he found what he assumed to be the same you went by on most platforms. He quickly typed it into his search bar, letting out a gasp at just how popular you seemed to be.

His baby bird was really taking after him in the entertainment industry. Although it wasn't really the same thing, Dick couldn't help but feel like he was part of your inspiration to become a famous personality.

He spent the next couple of hours carefully combing through your content, memorizing every reoccurring joke you held with your audience and how you acted as a safe space for your community.

God, he really needed to go find you and tell you how proud he was of your success.

Author's note:

Hey y'all! Dw, dw...Jason and Tim's reactions are coming soon lol :p hope you guys enjoy the chapter and please lemme know what you think! Ooh, also if you have any title recommendations for this fic, that would be baller because I've been really struggling to find one hehe!

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @jjsmeowthie @cxcilla @itsberrydreemurstuff @trashlanternfish360 @starsswaggy @legolas-the-homeschooled-elf @nickithearticorn @hallahella @lettucel0ver @kittzu @cssammyyarts @ryuushou @welpthisisboring @neverdead2 @mallowryblog @lingxio @the-dumber-scaramouche @oxionsworld @raini-sanchez @jellyedkazoo @alishii @bellethesleepypotato

[p1astr81]

I’ve been listening to too much tortured poets department, all I request is a soft fluffy yearning blurb with Oscar. Nothing too dramatic just maybe a long stressful day and the reader confides in him <3

There had been a permanent frown on your face all day. Stacks and stacks of papers piled on your desk, your inbox filled with unanswered emails. Your head hurt, meds couldn’t even fix it.

It was too much, too overwhelming, and by the end of the day, the papers were still piled high. You’d already stayed two hours past your regular leaving time and didn’t desire staying any longer.

Your head was pounding by then—possibly from the lack of food, having not ate since breakfast. But you didn’t want food. All you wanted was your bed and Oscar.

“Hey, baby.” He greeted you when you walked in, a cautious smile on his lips. “Tough day, yeah?”

You just nodded, letting him wrap his arms around you. You stood like that for a moment before you spoke up. “Can we go to bed. Please?” He could hear the weight of the day in your voice.

“Have you ate?”

You contemplated lying to him, but as soon as you hesitated he knew the answer. “Okay. Eat and then we can go to bed, yeah?”

“No. I just wanna lay with you.” You argued.

“We can sit on the couch while you eat then. But im not letting you go to bed without eating.”

You groan, pushing away from him. You take two steps in the direction of your bedroom before he pulls you back. He’s straight faced while you blink at him. “You’re annoying.” You state.

“And you need to eat.”

He only let you lay down after you’d ate every bit of your soup and brushed your teeth.

But he’d been gone for five minutes since you climbed into the bed. You called for him, only to see him stroll into the room seconds after. “I only went to get us some water. I’m not leaving you.” He chuckled, crawling under the sheets to lay next to you.

Too far away. You pulled it towards you, a feeble attempt but he got the idea. His chest became a nice place for you to rest your head, his arms cradling your body.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day. Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was so soft, you melted right into him.

The shake of your head against his chest was only a small movement, but he got the point. “Jus’ want you to hold me, and to go to sleep.” You muttered.

He kissed the top of your head. “I can definitely do that for you, love.”

[antianakin]

I think it's fair to say that Andor, despite having no Jedi in the show, makes the greatest argument as to why the Galaxy needs the Jedi! I mean, look what happened to Bix!

See, that's not really how I take it. Andor is hardly the first piece of media to show the Empire being completely awful and showcasing that they're a force that needs to be stopped. The first piece of media to do that was A New Hope when it literally showed them massacring an entire ship, burning down the Lars home, torturing Leia, and then blowing up an entire planet.

The message that Andor is trying to send is much more about COMMUNITY and solidarity and commitment to a cause greater than yourself as being the things that will truly save you from oppression.

The way I connect it to the Jedi is that THIS IS WHAT KILLED THEM. People DIDN'T have a sense of community and solidarity and commitment to something greater than themselves. They RELIED on the Jedi to solve all of their problems and if anything bad happened to them at all, then it was the Jedi's fault for not stopping it somehow, despite all of the many many reasons why the Jedi logistically could not stop every single ill in the galaxy.

Things like what happened to Bix were likely happening every day even during the Jedi's hey day. Plenty of planets likely had corrupt officials in their local governments, and obviously plenty of normal people are just bad people who have no issue with hurting others for their own gain or pleasure. The Jedi cannot and should not be expected to somehow be able to keep all of it from happening. The Jedi RELIED on regular people being willing to stand up to corruption and oppression and injustice themselves. The Jedi were intended to be an INSPIRATION to others to fight back against their own darkness and the darkness around them, not the end all and be all of the solution to darkness.

And THAT'S what allows the Empire to fall eventually. The Jedi were gone, so people finally had to stand up to darkness on their own. There was no one left to hide behind and shield them from the consequences of their own cowardice. And not only do they stand up, but they ultimately win because we see them standing BESIDE THE JEDI. In Rebels, it's all of the regular people in the Rebellion working with both Kanan and Ezra that takes down Thrawn and saves Lothal. In the Original Trilogy, it's Luke using the Force and working alongside the other Rebel pilots that destroys the first Death Star and saves the Rebellion from total destruction.

What's interesting to me about the situation on Mina-Rau is that we see the community around them get scared and uncertain, same as we did on Ferrix, and we aren't entirely certain how the shop owner is going to react when the stormtroopers finally show up, but instead of falling prey to his own fears and selfishness the way Timm did last season, he actually STANDS UP and helps Brasso and Bix and Wil as much as he can. He gets them a way to escape, he refuses to sell them out, despite whatever he may or may not feel about them as undocumented immigrants. And it's not enough, obviously, it doesn't save Brasso or Bix, but it's still important that he DID make that choice to help them when he didn't have to and it put himself and his own family at risk to do it.

And that's what's important here. It's not a message that this is why the galaxy needs the Jedi, but a message that this is why it's important to continue to stand up for each other, to protect the people in your community, regardless of how you might feel about their choices or their politics personally. Maybe it won't save everyone, but that doesn't make it less worth doing. It's important for everyone, even regular people, to ACT like the Jedi, to have that compassion towards others, because THAT'S what's going to save us in the end, THAT'S what's going to defeat the darkness.

[catzz089]

ORR CURSE OF OBEDIENCE AHHH THERE ARE SO MANY WAYS IT COULD GO (but lowkey established relationship max has the curse put on him and ppl r using for the wrong reasons (what ever that be) so charles pull some protective bf vibes and is like you can only listen to me and then curse solved and max is soo greatful to charles (lowkey could be unestablished relationship and this is where someone confesses)) whoops got a bit carried away 🩵

Max woke up feeling normal.

Entirely regular, not one discrepancy across his entire body.

None.

Charles wasn’t next to him, they’d slept in separate rooms the night before to ‘improve focus’ which was really just their way of saying they were unhappy and didn’t want to spread it to the other person.

In all honestly it was never their brightest move, considering every single time Max woke up feeling far more upset when he couldn’t curl into a warm body, and Charles would cling to him for the next couple of days until they finally felt satiated.

His mind felt a little fuzzy.

Nothing in particular, definitely not.

His phone chimed on the beside table next to him, Christian.

Max, we need you to come in earlier today, to look at the car. We want you to get us that number 1!!!

Max was at the track before he even registered the words.

Huh.

“Max! Exactly who I wanted to see! I need you to pop round to the mechanics for me, they want you to take a look at some last minute changes, I don’t know about them, I trust you, do what you think is best, alright?”

Max nodded and sped straight off.

All in all it was a relatively simple conversation, the team knew him, knew he was good, they changed what he wanted with only minimal refutes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, definitely, it keeps the front of the car heavy.”

“And we can’t have anyone messing with your precious car balance, can we Maxie?” Rupert said, slapping his hands onto his shoulders. He’d been preying on Max from the sidelines for at least 10 minutes, more than enough time to come over.

“No, of course not,” he replied easily.

Rupert grinned and firmed up his grip, “Come on, Max, we need to head off now.” And dragged him away, he fell into line next to him.

“You alright mate? You seem a little distant today.” Rupert questioned, “Please tell me you’ve done all your race prep.”

“I’ve done all my race prep,” He said automatically and immediately felt his skin crawl.

He couldn’t even remember his way to the track, he knew damn well he hadn’t done a single fucking stretch or warm up, he hadn’t drunk a single drop of water, he hadn’t even fucking eaten anything.

He had nothing to burn or sweat, he hadn’t even drunk a singular drop of RedBull.

Max Verstappen hasn’t drunk RedBull.

And he was a good racer, he’d been a good racer. But you could only do so much when you were hungry and thirsty and under-caffeinated.

So why the fuck was he lying to Rupert instead of telling him so he could go off to the cafeteria, or do some stretches with him. Literally anything.

He opened his mouth to say something, refute it, anything but he just couldn’t.

His chest tightened and his hands clenched.

“Oh and text Charles would you? I’m sick and tired of him pestering me about you. Tell him you’re doing fine and I’m not destroying your muscles.”

Max pulled out his phone without even thinking about it.

Me:

I’m fine

And Rupert isn’t destroying my muscles

Charlie ❤️🏁:

Max!!!

Good morning!

You never text first!

How are you?

Me:

I’m fine

Charlie ❤️🏁:

Okay…

Very descriptive

I need to go, Fred wants me

But please don’t overwork yourself mon cœur, oui?

Max began to type a response, but-

“Alright, not that long. We still have stuff to do Max, race is in 5 hours and we’ll be working for every bit of it.”

He put the phone back into his pocket, despite the buzzing, which only increased as time went on.

It stressed him out, more that it usually would.

His fingers itched to pick it back up again, but Rupert was talking. He had to listen to Rupert.

—

“Alright, get out there and do your best Max, the positioning of this track is a bit bad for you, so make sure you keep that P1 in that first corner, okay Champ?” Christian said whilst grinning and clapping him on the back, pushing him forward and towards the car.

Max mumbled a vague agreement and made his way over to the track.

The car rumbled steadily underneath his hands, it was feeling much better than before, he wasn’t yet happy with it, probably never would be, but it was certainly an improvement.

The lights went out and he slammed the accelerator, heading towards the first turn, Oscar right on his heels and-

Keep that P1 in the first corner

He turned, barreling straight off the track, completely cutting off the first corner.

Shit

It was fine. All fine.

The FIA usually ignored any first corner infringements, especially on a track like this. It was okay.

“Keep it steady Max, keep pushing,” GP’s voice crackled through his ear.

“Wait- but with the-“

“No comment please, Max.”

He shut up.

He continued as normal, twisting and turning the car wherever need be, doing whatever he could to extend the gap.

Don’t overwork yourself, mon cœur

Right. He-

Keep pushing

Oh.

He couldn’t slow it down, he had to keep pushing. But he was meant to slow it down- so surely he had to fall back a little.

A faint thrumming began in his head, not entirely painful, but distracting enough that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.

He drove in instinct, he wasn’t sure what he was doing or saying, but at least something was happening.

The drumming grew, it shook through his brittle bones and he gripped the wheel tighter in some futile attempt of averting the pain and regaining control.

But he hadn’t had control for a while now.

Not in the morning, not in any one of his conversations and certainly not in his driving.

But it just can’t be. Things like this don’t just happen, and they certainly don’t happen to Max.

Although, not one other thing could explain what’s going on.

Someone asks him to do something, and he just goes and does it, he doesn’t have control over his actions at all.

It unsettled something deep within him, he liked to be in control, needed it almost.

And now he had nothing.

He pushed down on the accelerator, sending the car in a perfect arc around a corner, gaining milliseconds to try and catch up to Oscar in front. He pushed harder and harder and-

A bright flash of pain sparked through his mind, he flinched and the car stumbled around a turn. It felt like burning and aching and freezing and it just hurt. It hurt so much.

“Keep the car steady, Max. Oscar 2.5 seconds ahead.”

Max barely managed to keep in another strangled, pained sound.

—

The car crossed the line in seconds, it was okay.

He wanted to win, but he always wanted to win.

He could take second.

But he really couldn’t take the fiery pain across his entire skull, only exasperated by the time he took off his helmet.

He closed his eyes and gripped the stand his helmet rested on. Blindly, he reached out and grabbed a water bottle and brought it to his mouth.

“Max.”

Oh fuck.

“We need to have a little chat,” Came the cocky, condescending voice of Muhhamed Ben sualem.

Quite possibly the last person he would ever want to be talking to right now, especially when Charles was right there.

“I would just like to remind you of the rules, Max. Considering you’re prone to breaking them. You are not to speak badly about myself or the rest of the FIA to anyone, press or not, or there will be harsh consequences, Max. It would do you well to remember this.” His voice droned on and on.

Max tried to refute, tried to say something in the one second he had before the cameras brought there mics over and he lost the chance to say anything at all. His mouth stayed closed.

Sulaem walked away with his typical goblinish grin.

He wasn’t really hearing much over the pounding in his head. He wasn’t really sure if it was because the only water he had was that in the water system, or if it was because he was running in absolute fumes after doing too much without any form of sustenance. Probably everything, considering the way he trembled where he stood, but he could see Charles out of the corner of his eye. At the very least he could be with Charles, especially after the shit show he’d suffered through.

He walked over and slumped wordlessly in a nearby pillar. Charles looked over and grinned with a small wink, although nothing else considering they had about a hundred cameras on them. It was a shame, Max was pretty sure he’d be okay with publicising his relationship for a kiss and a hug.

“Did you have a penalty?” Charles asked, also breathless but conscious enough to get his mouth moving, which was a little more than Max was currently capable of. He gave a small nod.

“God it was really hot out there today, wasn’t it?”

Again, Mad gave a bid but nothing else.

And Charles, probably sensing the fact his boyfriend wasn’t really up for a conversation, shut right up and came over.

He leant down on the same pillar, pushing their overheating bodies together, which was nice and pleasant but also very uncomfortable. Max knew it must’ve been the same for Charles, yet he was willing to do it, for Max.

Max dropped increasingly more weight into Charles’ side. Charles frowned and gave him an odd look.

“Are you okay, cherí? How do you feel?” He asked.

“Odd,” Max replied thoughtlessly, which he was not meant to say because he didn’t want to freak Charles out, and Charles would always be freaked out at the slightest change of his attitude.

Charles was clearly about to say more, but their PR managers came around together,

“Max, come on, you need to go speak with the media.”

His head flared up from where he hadn’t even recognised it falling.

You are not to speak badly

Max answered questions clinically, rushing through them and running off the second he could, in order to avoid any extra questioning.

He knew he was unsociable during the cool down room and podium. He hoped people believed it was because of the heat and penalty, rather than his overwhelming headache and aversion to speak in case anyone at all asked about penalties and he answered and his head flared up again.

It was much of the same in the post-race media room. Clipped answers, sips of water and wondering if he could sneak away to grab a bite to eat, or get some painkillers. Or just avoid the world for an hour or two.

The second he finished he slipped out of the room with a sigh, grateful to finally, finally-

“Max!”

Of for fucks sake.

It was a reporter he didn’t recognise, tall with dark eyes and a smile that instantly put him on edge.

“Sorry guys,” Max refuted, “I’m done for the day, I can’t really answer your questions.”

“We need you to answer some questions Max, we won’t take too long.”

Max’s body turned to face him before his mind could catch up.

“What happened with Oscar on the first turn? Was that his fault? Do you agree with the penalty?”

You are not to speak badly about myself or the rest of the FIA.

“Of course it is upsetting to get the penalty, but it cannot be changed now, so there is no point talking about it.”

“Ah, our typical world champion, blunt as always. What about the McLarens? What do you think about them?”

Stupid prick, Max wasn’t ‘their’ anything.

“I think they are very fast, they have a very good car-“

“Obviously not that. On a personal level, are you still friends with Lando? Do you like Oscar? Will yourself and Oscar’s relationship be able to repair after this incident?” He interrupted.

Max wasn’t sure press had ever bombarded him with quite so many questions, he wished the guy would just shut up and take that stupid camera out of his face so he could leave.

“Our relationships will not be affected by racing. We are all adults and we know how to separate from in and off track.” He replied dryly, hoping he would just get the fucking hint.

“What about outside of the track? Recently people have been speculating your relationship with Kelly. She’s been spotted around with other men, the tabloid are saying you have a PR relationship. Is this true? Who are you really dating?”

No no no no no, he could not seriously ask any of this right now. Not when Max couldn’t lie.

He had to shut up, he had to clench his mouth closed and drop any and all sound coming out, he couldn’t let them know, he couldn’t out himself and Charles.

Hell, they’d be arrested in half the countries they drive in, he couldn’t ruin both of their careers by letting his mouth run, but the guy was smirking at him and the camera was inching closer and he he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving.

“Well-“

“I don’t see what that has to do with racing,” a cold voice cut in.

Charles.

Thank god, at least he was here.

“In fact, I’m not even sure you have a permit to report right now, considering you are outside of the media pen. You have no right to blockade off a driver from leaving just to pester them with useless questions. We are leaving. I’m going to ensure you never even see a race track ever again, after you’ve broken rules and harassed drivers.”

He snapped at the man, glaring daggers over the camera, directly into his eyes without backing down the slightest.

We are leaving.

Okay. Simple.

Just leave with Charles, he can do that.

Charles gently grabbed Max’s wrist and dragged him away, “Come on, mon trésor. Let’s get far away from these people.” He whispered.

Charles led them to their car and guided Max into the passenger seat, before jumping into the drivers and grabbing Max’s hands from across the console.

“Max, baby, you know I love you.” Max tensed, he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

“And that means you can talk to me. About anything.”

Max nodded wordlessly, Charles just looked more pained and brushed a hand over his cheek.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on. You’ve acted strange all morning, you didn’t respond to my texts, you’ve been distant, you’re letting yourself be hounded by the same type of reporters you hate and now you look about tap away from collapsing. What’s happened?”

The words spilled out before he could stop them, panicked and rushed, “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening to me, every time someone asks me to do something I just do it. I have no say in it, it just happens. I barely even remember it, Charlie. I’m scared, I don’t know how far it goes, I don’t know how to stop it, and my head hurts- it hurts so badly. I don’t even know what’s wrong or how it’s happened but it doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh baby,” Charles cooed, pulling Max into a tight hug, “You poor thing. We’ll fix this, okay? I’ll get it sorted don’t worry,” he soothed as Max collapsed into his shoulder, thin streams of water soaking into his shirt, which only seemed to make them both more upset.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart, don’t cry. I know it’s stressful, but it’ll be okay, alright?”

Max tried to hide his face more thoroughly.

His head hurt as more tears flowed. He had to stop them, he wasn’t allowed to cry, but he’d already collapsed and now they couldn’t stop.

“Okay, how about this baby. Stop listing to what other people say. From now on you aren’t allowed to follow what they say at all, you have to use your own mind and your own opinions to make descisons. And if you’re ever in a position you are uncomfortable with, you leave as soon as you possibly can; you don’t stay around people like that, okay?”

Max sighed, “yeah. Yeah okay.”

“Perfect,” Charles grinned, “Let’s go back to the hotel now, cherí.”

—

Max stepped through the door, lightly supported by Charles’ hand resting over his waist and his vision promptly went back.

He collapsed forward, scarily close to getting the ground, until Charles’ scrambling was enough to grab and the back of his shirt and yank him away from the floor.

Charles sunk down himself, and brought Max to lay on his lap. He patted his face gently but firmly,

“Max. Max wake up. Mon cœur please get up, please,” he was feeling more and more frantic with every passing second, fumbling with Max’s legs to try and raise them both with one hand.

Thankfully, Max’s bleary eyes blinked open and he stared up at Charles before he could get worried enough to call an ambulance.

“Max, oh Max.” He sighed, “are you okay? Why did you faint cherí?”

“Food,” Max muttered.

“Food? Baby have you not eaten since the race? That was three hours ago. You need to eat afterwards, you need to regain the energy, Max. Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“No,” Max mumbled, “not since the race, yesterday.”

Charles blanched, “baby, please do not tell me you haven’t eaten at all today, please.”

Max paused for a moment, “okay.”

“Wait-no. Mon Sucre I didn’t mean it like that. Have you eaten at all today?”

Max shook his head, looking like he was going to fall back asleep.

“Max!” Charles stressed, “That’s so bad for you! On a race day? Oh my god, okay okay, I’m going to take you to the couch then in going to get you some food, okay?”

Max nodded, only looking mildly surprised when Charles hauled him up and dropped him onto the soft, plushy couch. At least it was comfortable.

Super comfortable.

—

Max woke up slowly, he could feel two strong arms wrapped tightly around his torso, dragging him into a familiar chest. There was also a leg draped over his own and Charles’ warm breaths hitting the back of his head.

He tried to squirm a little bit, to turn around and at least face Charles, but his grip was so tight no amount of wriggling was really helping.

“Max?” Came Charles’ sleep soaked voice, “go back to bed, cherí.”

Max huffed, “No, Charles. let me move around, I want to face you.”

Charles instantly sprung up, unravelling himself from Max. He rolled Max onto his back and straddled over him.

“Did you just say no?” He asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

Max giggled lightly, “No.”

Charles let out a frillish squeal and bent down to pepper kisses all over his face.

“You’re back baby! Oh thank god, I have my sweet baby angel back!”

“Oh shut up, Charles. You’re slobbering over my face.” Max drawled.

“God it really is you, isn’t it?” Charles asked, looking terribly endeared.

Max just placed his hands around his neck and yanked him down for a good, proper kiss.

[pages-and-stages]

"Fuck you."

Have some Curze being... hopefully in character, around his favorite prostitute in a world where he has one.

Tw: smut, noncon, and fear

"I'll never fuck you."

Not only had he misunderstood her, completely, he had also lied. Currently, she was pressed up against the wall, a clawed hand holding her head still while he nipped at her lips and tongue.

"Useless fucking whore," he snarled. Damn, if that didn't send a bolt of heat between her legs. While it was true, she was a whore for money, she wouldn't say she was completely useless. I mean, she was pleasuring the Night Haunter, right?

She had been pleasuring him, in fact. For weeks. Temperamental motherfucker that he was, he was also her favorite regular. That cock? And watching the nightmare come undone in front of her? And again, that cock-

Speaking of, it twitched in her hands, and she ever so gently swirled her thumb around its head, listening to him pant as he thrust into her hand. "Do that again," he growled.

"What? This?" She twisted her hand again, running the thumb under the swollen head. He keened, biting a little harder than she'd wanted. The taste of her own blood filled her mouth.

"I need you," he growled. "Now."

"Well, it's your money, so you have me."

Now, I feel like this is a good time to point out that she had never been thoroughly fucked by him before. It was always dry, him fingering her, and her either rubbing him off or sucking him off, sometimes both. He always made sure to return her "favors".

But when he picked her up, and tossed her onto the bed? Well, that was new. Not that she was complaining. As much as she loved those fingers, she wanted his cock inside of her.

However, she was the goods, he was the buyer. She couldn't tell him what to do, but it seemed tonight he wanted more than a simple handjob. His mouth was on hers before she could ask what changed, pinning her down.

"M-my-" She couldn't get a word out edgewise, he wouldn't let her.

"Shut up." She was used to his growling by now, but this? This was too dark, too dangerous. She was scared, now. Reaching into her stocking, she drew a small, thin knife. Maybe he was just…too into this?

Making to slice a thin line in his back, her hand was caught. Lord Curze peeled away from her, his eyes wide. She took deep breaths, trying to catch the air before it left again. Her hand shook in his tight grasp, and he sat back, letting her go.

She sat up, wiping her mouth. "What the hell?!" She demanded.

Curze bowed his head. "I was angry," he said shyly.

"At me??"

"Why were you about to hurt me?"

She looked down, fidgeting with her knife. "You scared me," she whispered. "You- we didn't-nothing was talked about. You went outside the terms of the contract."

The lord looked down, and if she didn't know better, she'd say he looked bashful. "That was- forgive me, I was too caught up in myself."

She stood up, walking to her vanity. Heat still pulsed between her legs, and she could feel his eyes tracking her. "What was it this time?" She slotted the cigarette in between her teeth, lighting it. For a second, she stared at the flames, before putting her lighter out and taking a breath.

"Must you?" he grumbled.

"Answer my question." She didn't know why he took orders from her. Half the time, after giving each other handjobs, his visits became therapy sessions. Lucky her, she guessed. And those times, he took orders, like she was supposed to.

"My brothers," he admitted. "They want to…they think I shouldn't be a part of the crusade."

She blew smoke out of her nostrils. "So leave the crusade, then. Let them warmonger, and you can…rule this shit hole of a planet, I guess."

"I'm also feeling…something new, around you."

"That's called a boner, and I wouldn't say it's new." She sat back, crossing her legs. Lord Curze looked at her.

"No, warm. Safe. I don't know what you're doing to me, whore, but-." He cut himself off, picking at her carpet. She debated telling him off. "I think I like, how you make me feel."

She shrugged. "Pay for longer sess-"

"I'm in love with you."

She choked on the next drag of her cigarette. "Subtle, asshole."

"I am."

"I don't think you get to call me a whore and then say you love me in the span of 3 minutes."

"What's your name, then?" So, she gave him her name, casually. And then he called it. "I want your hand in marriage."

"Slow down there."

"No." He shook his head. "Please, you make me better. Please?"

Not wanting to die, she agreed. The urge to live was much better than the desire to not be mocked by the noble born or his brothers.

[wackywatchdotcom]

Seeing you be very normal about small details in the show got me thinking about Pomni, and I was wondering if you've thought about the possibility that Pomni probably hasn't eaten in several days. Like, we know they don't NEED to eat.. but it's probably not healthy for her mentally to skip the process of 'taking care of your body'. Ragatha, for example, says that participating in sleeping despite the fact they don't need to- helps keep them mentally steady. Idk just a thought..

ooooooooh.... its a good thought!!!!!

i DO think that like. theres definitely some psychological aspects to a lot of things like eating and sleeping that i feel like tadc characters would be at risk of neglecting... like with something like sleep, i think they can go without it for a LONG time without physical fatigue BUT at the same time like. psychologically sleep is IMPORTANT. i dont know all the science of it but iirc sleep isnt just a physical need but i get the feeling thats not smth that occurs to people in the circus often :[ ragatha seems aware enough of the benefit of the routine of sleeping and how the adventures can be helpful for that to BUT i imagine even she doesnt fully realize that sleep is still pretty important for them, just in a different way

on that note i could definitely see eating being similar!!!! its not something thatll physically harm a person in the circus if they dont eat but also eating is a deeply ingrained aspect of human life, and while i struggle to place a specific problem abstaining from it for too long in the circus couls cause, i COULD imagine it being like. at LEAST psychologically disorienting. especially with jax claiming he feels hungry??? it implies that its similar to the breathing thing that they may not phsyically need to , but their mind still assumes they do....

i DO get curious if they have like. regular meals?? i liek the hc that theres some sort of kitchen in the circus (seeing the weird little couch area was SOOO exciting for me, im super invested in finding out more about the layout of the circus!!!!! i like details like that theyre FUN) so imagine theres SOME way to access food just like how they have bedrooms (though, i get the feeling caine doesnt have a complete idea of what sleep IS but thats a diff thing). but also with them having a feast at the end of the pilot could imply they do, but with that 'reward' not being brought up at ALL in the next three eps (caine has the opportunity to mention it but noticably doesnt, especially in ep 2 where he just full on Leaves after the adventure- it seems more like he just sorta congratulates people on completing adventures and makes sure everyones accounted for and calls it a day) makes me think that communal meals are NOT super common, or at the very least them being coordinated by caine isnt...

all that to say that if shes only been part of the ep 1 feast (i cannot imagine she ate i feel like she was too out of it to do Anything😭) i am unsure if shed have gone out of her way to find a kitchen... if she wanted to know i think shed feel comfortable asking ragatha about it, but i wonder if its even crossed her mind???? and i imagine that would be jarring for her to realize, and also generally psychologically Not The Best for her...

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Hero Kidnaps Villain Part 17

Warnings: mentions of murder & death, brainwashing

Present time...

Hero had an awful feeling about what Villain was telling her. Supervillain and Henchmen were killed? How? Would the Agency really do something like that??

The news was like a punch to the gut that stole her breath away and left her drowning in air.

"Villain... are you certain Supervillain and Henchmen are dead? You're 100% positive?" She asked quietly, her voice dropping low and grave.

Villain nodded stiffly, fresh tears springing to his eyes when he vividly replayed the slaughter in his mind, how Superhero had murdered them both in cold blood and forced him to witness the entire thing. "I watched it happen," he answered hoarsely. "They killed them right in front of me to prove a point."

He found Hero's suddenly anguished expression puzzling. Why did she care about the deaths of two violent criminals? It meant less enemies for her to battle against in the future.

"Why -- Why do you want to know so badly?" He ventured.

"It's Supervillain... I..." Hero's voice caught in her throat, and she glanced away, clearing her throat and trying to compose herself to hide the sorrow in her face.

"He was my twin brother," she finally whispered, words cracking with grief. "It's part of what motivated me to look at Agency more closely and find out why their prisoners keep vanishing -- they wouldn't tell me what they were doing with Supervillain once he was caught and brought in. He wasn't a good person, and he deserved to face the consequences of his crimes, but... he didn't deserve to die. He was still my brother, and... he'd been there for me when it mattered most, villain or not. He didn't want to hurt me, which is why he always went easy on me during fights. Out of costume we were kind of just... regular rival siblings. Oh gosh..."

Hero covered her mouth with a hand, eyes watery as she stood up and took a wobbly step away from the bed. "I'm sorry, I just... need a minute to process this," she rasped, then whirled around and fled the room, leaving Villain to his thoughts.

She didn't come back for six hours, staying away so long Villain genuinely wondered if she planned to abandon this house altogether and leave him to starve and rot and decay here all alone.

But finally she returned, her hair messy and eyes red-rimmed, and it was obvious she'd been crying. The tears had stopped falling, but it was clear she was barely holding it together right now.

Villain had no idea Supervillain had a sibling, let alone that it would be Hero, of all people. But now that the truth was revealed he could definitely see the similarities. Hero's orange hair was the same color tone Supervillain's had been, and they both had angular facial features, distinguished jawlines.

A new wave of fear crashed over Villain though as it sank in. What if Hero found out that he hadn't even tried to save Supervillain when he'd been executed? That he'd consciously chosen to obey Superhero's orders to not intervene to save his own skin? Would she torture him out of hatred for letting her brother be killed without so much as a hint of pushback, even if it wouldn’t have prevented his murder?

He instinctively flinched when Hero dropped something onto his lap, and it took a second for him to register that it was... just a bagged sandwich, followed by a water bottle. Not anything that would cause him pain.

Hero gave him a weird look for that reaction, but she was nice enough not to comment on it as she turned away from him.

"You can eat that for now -- we'll talk more tomorrow." Her voice was faded and heavy with despair as she trudged out of the room and disappeared again, not giving Villain a chance to say anything to her.

Villain stared down at the bag in his lap, then sighed, using his one uncuffed hand to awkwardly open it and take out the sandwich. Probably the only food he'd get today.

He chewed every bite slowly, mulling over his jumbled thoughts and trying to wrangle his frazzled nerves together. But he only got halfway through the sandwich before he heard the door -- which had barely been cracked an inch after Hero left -- make a quiet creak, slowly opening a foot.

He stiffened, staring at it anxiously, alarm bells going off when no one visibly entered through the gap. He was horribly on-edge in the uncomfortable silence that followed, tense and on high alert, but he let out a strangled shriek of terror when a speedy blur of movement came shooting up over the edge of the bed toward him.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

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@f1sh-bone @basica11ywhumped

[lightsoutmatthews]

Forgive and forget - Auston Matthews (Ignored pt. 2)

summary: after the events of last night you and Auston need to talk and finally figure out what happened.

Read pt. 1: Ignored

pairing: Auston Matthews x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: -

authors note:

for the lovely anon who requested me writing a part 2, I really had fun revisiting the story

--------------------------------

When you wake up the next morning the bed next to you is empty. You could still feel his arms around you. He had held you tighter than usual last night, almost as if he was scared you would slip away while he was deep in his dreams.

The lingering anger from last night was almost gone, a good night´s sleep usually something that really helped you calm down after a fight but there was still that little simmer, especially when you thought back to how you got those pitying looks from other attendees.

Auston´s side of the bed was cold. An indication that he must have been up for quite a while. You knew he had a game today, but morning skate wasn’t something he attended on a very regular basis.

The banging of porcelain led you downstairs into the open kitchen of your shared home. A quiet voice mumbling something, but you couldn’t quite make out what. Maybe he was humming along to a song or talking to Felix. A usual occurence in your household.

As you took the last steps on the stairs you realized you weren’t wearing anything other than a pair of panties and one of Auston´s very oversized shirts that ended just above your knee. Not really an appropriate outfit for the talk you were about to have but at the same time you were too lazy to go back upstairs and change. This will just have to do.

The sight that awaited you in the kitchen had you let out a quiet laugh. Auston was shirtless, juggling a pan in one hand while he tried to fetch toast out of the toaster with the other. At the same time Felix was running circles around his dads legs making him almost trip over the dogs back.

“Do you need some help?” you questioned laughing, making your presence known at the same time. He flinched, almost dropping the toast and tipping the pan a tad too far so the eggs were on the edge of dropping onto the floor.

You rushed over, grabbing it from his hands before putting it on one of the coasters laying out on the counter ready for usage.

“Good morning,” he said after putting the toast on one of the plates sitting in front of him that were already loaded with freshly cut fruit. A soft huff left your mouth.

Auston making breakfast wasn’t a typical occurrence in your household.

Sure, he did it every now and then on special occasions like your birthday, an anniversary or just when he felt like it but today you knew exactly what he was doing. This was an apology.

“Morning,” you replied but subtly evaded his attempt for a kiss because you knew how this would probably end, and you really needed to talk before that happened.

He shot you a confused and almost offended look when he realized what you did. “Talk first, okay?” you requested quietly.

He plated the rest of breakfast before sitting down across from you on the large, wooden dining room table. Taking a sip from his coffee he looked at you with waiting eyes.

“I know we already talked about this last night but what was going on?” you questioned, looking him directly into the eyes, catching the warm glint the rising sun behind your back coasted them in.

He brushed his hands over his face before taking another long sip from his mug. You knew he was thinking, you had been together long enough for you to pick up on the subtle changes in his demure whenever he was doing something but didn’t want people to know.

“Like I said last night, I was so wrapped up in my shit.” He swallowed. His adam´s apple popping out stronger than usual. “I really don’t have a good explanation for you, but I am sorry.”

You took a deep breath. That wasn’t really what you wanted to hear but at the same time you were glad that he was honest with you. Telling you he didn´t know was still better than just making up some lousy excuse.

“It really hurt me, Aus.” You used the nickname on purpose, signaling that you weren’t really mad anymore but still said it with just enough bite to get your point across.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him with one finger. “The looks Willy and Mitch gave me stung but the looks from the people who didn’t even have any idea who I was were worse. They knew I was there with you but just looked at me like I was some random woman you brought so you didn’t have to come alone.”

You took a quick pause to take a bite from your toast. Swallowing hard before speaking again. “We have been together for years, Auston. I know you value your privacy but at this point in our relationship people shouldn’t think I´m just some random woman on your arm.”

You tried to not sound accusing, more like you were just describing how you felt to him, but you were failing miserably. The tensing of his shoulders a clear indication of it.

“I know,” he interjected before you could go any further. “Do you…?” you challenged.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. “It certainly didn’t feel like you knew last night. And I´m sorry, I don’t want to fight about it any more than you do, but I felt like I wasn’t important last night.”

You once again stopped him from interrupting, this time he reacted by rapidly blinking. “I know you´re at these things to shmooze sponsors and not to hang out with me but I hope you understand what I mean.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just starring into his plate as if it had a perfect answer for him. “You are the most important person in my life.”

A loud sigh left your mouth. Of course, you knew you were. He showed it in the small things that he did. Like making you an iced coffee before he leaves for morning skate and putting it in the fridge so it wouldn’t get watered down. How he ordered you food when he was on the road because “just had a feeling” that you could use something to eat or a sweet treat. How he checked in on you as many times as he could via text, even when he was supposed to busy.

You hardly ever felt like you came second to hockey and when you did you understood. During the playoffs or important stretches in the regular season.

“Yeah, but that is not what this is about.”

When you looked back at him, he seemed like he didn’t know what else he should say to make it up to you.

If you were being honest, you also didn’t know what you wanted to hear. The lingering anger wasn’t really prominent anymore ever since you shared your feelings with him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he stated, looking down at Felix who was spreading out under the table to be close to both of his favorite humans.

“I don’t know what I want you to say either,” you answered honestly.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked with genuine sincerity, not because he wanted to know what he had to do to make it go away.

You dropped your fork and reached out to grab his hand that he had placed on the table while eating. His pleading eyes weren’t lost on you. His vulnerable state not something you saw often. When it happened it always was in the comfort of your own home.

The loving expression on his face made you melt, all the anger that was still left deep inside you puffing away as soon as you looked at him.

“You don’t have to make it up to me, this…” you moved your arms over the plates. “…is already more than I would ask for. I just wanted to talk about it again, clear the air so that we´re on the same page as to why I was so angry last night.”

He nodded and softly squeezed your hand that was still holding his.

“So, I am forgiven?” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes but laughed. “Yeah, you are forgiven but…” you paused dramatically. “…don’t do it again.” he finished for you which made both of you break out a laugh.

“I promise.” He responded before getting up and dragging you to the other side of the table so you could sit on his lap. “I love you, baby.” He added, before placing a slow and careful kiss to your lips.

“I love you too,” you mumbled in between kisses. “Even though you piss me off so bad sometimes,” you added laughing before pulling him into another kiss.

[no-face-no-shame]

Love For Science

A stupid idea that was supposed to be a funny Charthur interaction, but turned into general tomfoolery. Boys get a research-oriented side quest!

Tags: goofy humour, feel-good fluff comedy

TW for outdated language referring to queer men

            The morning hunting had been a success, with five jack rabbits fixed to Arthur and Charles’ saddles. Now that afternoon was in full swing, the two men were sitting underneath a tree, eating raspberries and resting.

            ‘The problem is,’ Arthur said solemnly, ‘that I do like ‘em. But they don’t like me.’

            ‘How can raspberries dislike you?’

            ‘They always get stuck in my teeth.’

            ‘Well, that means that you still have some left, which is a rather good thing. Also – I don’t think that raspberries getting stuck in your teeth is a personal thing.’

            ‘In my case it is. They do this on purpose.’

            Charles seemed inclined to argue, but the two were interrupted by a large cart stopping next to them. It was pulled by two little horses and driven by an equally little man. He looked at them with barely controlled excitement, then waved his hands and jumped off the cart, on the way nearly losing his glasses.

            ‘Ah, gentlemen! Excuse me, but can I take a bit of your time? Just a moment. Are you, perhaps, sodomites?’

            Arthur froze in an awkward position between sitting and standing, while Charles stared at the man with the most genuine confusion the world has seen since men invented fire. The stranger sent them a broad smile, awkwardly waiting for the answer. Finally, Arthur coughed.

            ‘No. No. Right?’ he shot a quick glance at Charles. ‘No, we ain’t. Why?’

            The stranger’s shoulders dropped in a cartoonish manner.

            ‘You look… disappointed,’ Charles remarked slowly.

            ‘Well, I’m a doctor and I’m conducting research on homosexual behaviours. You see, my thesis is that it’s way more common than previously thought, and, frankly speaking, quite natural. I’m searching for sodomites willing to answer some questions from my survey!’

            The man began to frantically search for something in his pockets. Soon he produced two sets of papers, which he handed over to Arthur and Charles.

            ‘If you happen to know or encounter any sodomites willing to participate in my research, could you please send me the answers? The surveys are for reference, regular notes will do. I’ll pay! Here is my address, I’ll be staying in Saint Denis for some time. Thank you so much. Have a fantastic day!’

            Just like that, the man jumped back onto the cart and was gone before Arthur had a chance to say anything. He stared numbly at the papers in his hand.

            ‘What the hell was that?’ he mumbled.

            ‘I’m not sure, but he seemed quite enthusiastic about his work. First time I’m hearing of anyone interested in this topic.’

            Arthur blinked a few times more, sighed and put the survey in his pocket.

            ‘Why on Earth did he approach us, from all people?’

            Charles shrugged.

            ‘I assume he simply saw two men in proximity to each other and drew wrong conclusions. As they say – a starving man sees food in everything.’

            They got on their horses and slowly headed back to the camp. On the way, Charles was riding with his eyes closed, enjoying the weather, while Arthur was reading through the survey. He kept on grumbling and snorting.

            ‘How do you define “attraction”?’ he finally asked.

            ‘What do you mean?’

            ‘Like, how do you define it? I mean, there is a big difference between noticing that someone is good-lookin’ and being, y’know, interested. Most folks are ugly, so when one ain’t, it catches the eye. And you don’t need to be a sodomite to see when another man is handsome.’

            Charles sighed and began to play with a little braid hidden somewhere in his long hair.

            ‘I think it depends on the intention. You might acknowledge a man as handsome in the sense of simply appreciating his looks, or you might acknowledge his good appearance in a way that’s caused by your attraction to him. In a way that makes you want to start a conversation.’

            Arthur nodded and returned to reading, but soon he frowned and grumbled again.

            ‘Does someone who’s sweet on both men and women count as a sodomite? I mean, if he ain’t doing it with a man, then I don’t think it counts.’

            ‘I’d say that it does, since his feelings stay the same even if he ends up marrying a woman. Does one stop being attracted to women as a whole after getting married to one?’

            ‘Heh, you’re right. If that was the case, then there would be no unfaithful husbands,’ Arthur chuckled.

            For some time they rode in silence, but it was clear that Arthur wasn’t done asking questions.

            ‘What about women, exactly?’

            ‘Huh?’

            ‘There ain’t nothin’ here bout women being sweet on each other. But I knew one like that, a few years ago. She even lived with her “friend”. They’ve been together longer than most marriages last.’

            Charles pulled out his copy of the survey and glanced over it.

            ‘Hm. Indeed, nothing about that. Maybe that doctor specialises in men only?’

            ‘Or he forgot.’

            ‘Could be.’

            They approached the camp, welcomed by Lenny and Karen. The latter pointed at the rabbits with satisfaction.

            ‘Good job, boys! The stew will be great. Pearson was getting nervous, go and give the poor feller his meat.’

            As they dismounted, Arthur turned to Charles.

            ‘So, about that research… Who could we ask?’

            They looked at each other with silent understanding and devilish smiles appeared on their faces.

            ‘Bill!’ they said in unison.

***

            ‘I ain’t answering that!’ Bill said with anger.

            ‘C’mon, it’s for the science,’ Arthur opened his arms wide. ‘Don’t you want to make an impact on world’s scientific legacy?’

            ‘No. And I don’t trust you like that anyway.’

            Arthur scratched his cheek with irritation.

            ‘He said he’ll pay. Do it for the camp.’

            ‘Can’t you just lie and send him something?’

            ‘That would affect negatively the research,’ remarked Charles while opening his beer and sliding another bottle towards Bill. ‘Stealing and robbing people is one thing, but compromising such unique initiative for profit… that’s immoral in a way we can’t accept.’

            Arthur nodded with great seriousness, silently cursing himself for not coming up with the idea to lie himself. Bill winced, drank for a while in silence, then sniffed.

            ‘Alright. One issue. I ain’t much of a reader. You gotta read that for me.’

            Charles’ face was frozen in an expression of deep suffering, while Arthur shook his head a bit too fast.

            ‘I ain’t reading all that out loud.’

            ‘Well, that’s too damn bad then. Now stop bothering me.’

            ‘Alright. Just… let’s sit somewhere the rest won’t hear us.’

            They moved to the edge of the camp. Charles sat down with a piece of paper to take notes, while Arthur read the questions. At first Bill refused to answer most of them, but with every next bottle of beer the three were growing more relaxed.

            ‘Yeah, let’s see what we’ve got left,’ Arthur said with difficulty, at the same time trying to read the last batch of questions and open a gin bottle with his teeth. ‘Ah, damned it! The raspberries, I told you they be getting stuck in my teeth. And now I can’t open the bottle right!’

            Charles grabbed his face, trying to take a look into his mouth.

            ‘No raspberry seeds. You should limit sweets though.’

            ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

            ‘Your teeth will go bad if you keep eating them.’

            Bill roared with laughter, barely able to remain seated.

            ‘Read the damned questions, I’m having a blast with them!’ he urged Arthur.

            ‘Fine, fine. Do you, uh, prefer a… damn, I ain’t reading that! Do you like ‘em big?’

            Bill began to laugh so hard that he lost balance and fell to the ground. Arthur felt someone lean over his shoulder.

            ‘What the hell are you idiots doing?’ John rasped. ‘Did I hear that right?’

            ‘We’re doing… science…’ Bill’s voice sounded somewhere under the table as he struggled to get up.

            Charles quickly explained the matter. John stared at him with awe. In his usual manner, Javier immediately appeared next to him, trying to read from Arthur’s pages.

            ‘Can’t be! Show me that, I need to see it!’

            ‘Piss off, Escuella,’ Arthur waved him off without much conviction. ‘This ain’t about you.’

            But Javier was already settling down on a wooden crate, on the way pulling Bill back up.

            ‘Everything is about me if I’m interested in it.’

            The group quickly grew larger, with Sean and Kieran soon finding their way to the table. The noise finally attracted Hosea.

            ‘What are you boys so jolly about?’

            He took a page out of Arthur’s hands, then frowned.

            ‘Where did you get that from?’

            ‘A doctor gave these to us. He needs help with his, well, research.’

            ‘Look at these hard working men,’ Dutch’s voice boomed over Hosea’s shoulder. ‘Dedicating their time to the most important matters they possibly could.’

            ‘The doctor will pay,’ Charles said.

            Dutch’s face immediately grew softer and his black eyes glimmered.

            ‘Is it so? Well, that changes everything. Get to work, boys!’

            Arthur and Charles looked at each other, sighed and finished the bottle of gin they’d been sharing.

***

            ‘Stop cheating off me, you idiot!’ John hissed at Javier. ‘This is supposed to be individual.’

            ‘Let’s be individual together…’

            Late in the night, the men were still sitting around the table. Dutch was dozing off in the corner alongside Hosea, while the rest struggled to maintain consciousness while fighting through the haze of alcohol and awkward questions.

            ‘This just doesn’t work for me,’ Sean whined. ‘No matter how much I try, I just can’t imagine myself with a man.’

            ‘That’s cause you ain’t got imagination,’ John said with irritation. ‘Those questions are a bunch of crap though. “Do you find male chest or buttocks more appealing?” What the hell? Why would the ass matter anyway?’

            ‘You’re saying that just cause you ain’t got none yourself,’ said Javier, causing everyone except John to laugh and earning a light slap on the shoulder. ‘Abigail must be a chest kind of girl!’

            ‘I’d say that ass tends to matter in these scenarios,’ Kieran remarked shyly. ‘I mean, it’s probably one of the most important things.’

            ‘Right,’ John ran his hand down his face. ‘We’re gonna have so much bull crap to send in the morning.’

            Charles stretched and yawned. He gently shook Arthur’s shoulders to wake him up from a gin-induced nap.

            ‘I’m going to sleep. And I recommend you do the same.’

            ‘Right,’ Arthur yawned. ‘Man, I think we made a mistake with that survey. Ain’t no way any of this is useful.’

            Charles shrugged.

            ‘We’ll worry about that later.’

            They headed towards their respective resting places. Arthur struggled with his belt for a while, then crashed onto the bed so hard that it nearly broke. Resting on his stomach, he pressed his face into the pillow, hoping for his head to stop spinning. He lay like that for a while, but surprisingly, sleep didn’t come as quickly as usual. He kept on shifting and unbuttoned his shirt as it felt too tight.

            After over an hour of sleepless misery, Arthur got up and quietly headed towards Charles’ mattress.

            ‘You sleepin’?’ he asked as he settled down next to the man.

            ‘Not anymore. What is it?’

            ‘Nothing. I just can’t sleep.’

            ‘Well, I can. Goodnight.’

            Arthur chuckled. Unconsciously, the two men were slowly moving closer to each other, until they were nearly lying on one another. Arthur rested his head against Charles’ collarbone. They didn’t talk, but their silence was enough of a conversation. The pleasant lightness finally began to enwrap Arthur’s mind. Charles began to breathe slower, from time to time slightly snoring. A half-formed thought flashed through Arthur’s mind, but he pushed it back and embraced Charles, enjoying the pleasant smell of a familiar skin.

            ‘I still think it don’t count,’ Arthur mumbled more to himself than to anyone else.

            Soon both of them were sound asleep, cased in each other’s arms.

[moonwateraura]

“Press Play”

Adult Van Palmer x college reader

—————————————————————————

The bell over the door gives a soft jingle as you walk into While You Were Streaming. The air smells like old plastic, lavender, and something warm and nostalgic—like time paused somewhere in the late ‘90s and never bothered to catch up.

You take a few steps inside, eyes drifting over the shelves. It’s quiet. Almost too quiet.

“Lemme guess,” a voice calls from behind the counter—dry, amused, a little too knowing. “Film student?”

You turn toward the voice and freeze for a second.

She’s leaning back in a stool like she’s got nowhere else to be, boot propped on the bottom rung of the counter. Short red hair, a worn-in flannel tossed over a white t-shirt, and jeans that look like they’ve been through hell and back—she looks like the exact kind of woman your TA warned you about, and now you kind of get why.

Your eyes flick to the Jaws patch sewn onto her flannel sleeve. Then back to her.

“Uh… yeah. That obvious?”

Van gives a one-shouldered shrug, like she’s being generous by not teasing you more. “You walked in with that specific ‘I’ve-never-used-a-VCR’ face. Plus, it’s Tuesday. That’s when the film kids panic and remember they need a ‘rare analog copy’ of something for class.”

You smile, sheepish. “Okay, yeah. Guilty.”

You walk up to the counter, pulling out the sticky note your professor scribbled down. “I’m supposed to find Paris, Texas on VHS. He said the only way to ‘experience its raw visual language’ was on tape.”

Van raises an eyebrow, that same subtle, dry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, vintage snobbery. Gotta love it.”

“I called it old and he nearly fainted.”

That gets a low chuckle from her. She pushes off the stool and heads toward the back shelves. “Old, huh? You really trying to hurt my feelings today?”

Your eyes widen. “Wait—I didn’t mean you’re—I mean the movie’s from the eighties—”

Van glances over her shoulder, grinning. “Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly.”

She finds the tape with practiced ease, pulls it down, and walks it back over to you.

“Last copy,” she says, holding it out. Her fingers graze yours—light, quick, probably nothing—but it still sends a little static up your arm.

You clear your throat. “This place is kind of awesome. Like… time travel.”

Van leans a hip against the counter, arms crossed over her flannel. “Yeah, it’s a weird little bubble. Mostly regulars and nostalgic weirdos. You’re kind of a new demographic.”

“Yeah? What’s my category?”

She studies you for a second, then shrugs. “Cute film student who says the eighties are ‘old’ but still came all the way here instead of streaming a bootleg online.”

You blink. The way she says cute is so casual, you can’t tell if she even meant it that way—or if your brain’s just trying to fill in the blanks.

“Your professor’s got decent taste, I’ll give him that,” she adds. “Paris, Texas is worth seeing the right way.”

You nod, holding the tape a little tighter. “Do I pay now, or…?”

Van shakes her head. “Nah. First one’s free.”

You narrow your eyes. “Is that a store policy or a weird first-time-customer hazing thing?”

She grins. “Just incentive. Come back tomorrow, tell me what you thought. Could be fun.”

You hesitate. It sounds casual. Harmless. But there’s something in the way she says it—like she’s watching your reaction too closely.

You start to turn, then pause. “Should I call? Or just… show up?”

Van tilts her head. “You should give me your number. Just in case I find another rare treasure your professor forgot to mention.”

Your heart jumps a little, but you try not to let it show.

You grab a pen from the counter, scribble your number on the back of a crumpled movie rental card, and hand it over.

Van takes it, eyes flicking to the digits. She tucks it into her back pocket like it’s not a big deal, but her smile is a little different now—more real. Still amused, but not just at your expense.

“See you tomorrow, film girl.”

You nod, backing toward the door, still unsure if that was flirting… but kind of hoping it was.

Outside, the sun feels a little too bright. The tape’s warm in your hands. You don’t even realize you’re smiling until you catch your reflection in the window.

And back inside, Van watches you go—muttering under her breath, “Definitely coming back.”

[ragnarokhound]

can vamp Tim give Jason a blood transfusion if needed? 🤔

in your vamp/wer verse I mean

Oh, that's an interesting question! In my vampire!Tim/werewolf!Jason verse and the accompanying fic, Tim drinks almost exclusively off of Jason because a) Jason loves it and b) Tim would near-starve himself otherwise :') (and he kind of does anyway, Jason has to bully him into feeding). So the only blood inside Tim at any given moment is usually Jason's original blood anyway. But can Tim give that blood back in an emergency?

tldr: yes, under certain conditions. lol

My reply was getting long because this kind of speculating is my favorite game to play, so if you're curious about what those conditions are and how I reached that conclusion, more details are under the cut:

In this verse, Jason is the kind of werewolf who doesn't have a lot of control/retained personality when he shifts, but he DOES have a lot of meta powers. (As a treat for becoming a mindless, violent monster lol ur welcome Jay)

One of those powers includes rapid healing ala deadpool/wolverine (unless the wound is inflicted by silver, ancestral or otherwise) so it would be remarkably difficult for Jason to reach the point where he even needs a blood transfusion. But let's consider that worst case scenario, in which Jason has suffered enough silver-inflicted wounds that his healing factor breaks and he needs blood, yesterday. Wuh oh.

Tim is the #1 candidate to consider for a Jason blood transfusion because that's his gamer fuel of choice - but for Tim to be a viable donor, it would depend on the length of time it's been since Tim drank from Jason, and how much. They're on a time limit because Tim's body doesn't replenish blood on its own, he has to steal it.

Brace yourself for the suspect use of rough science facts in the middle of supernatural fantasy speculation about vampire/werewolf AUs, lmao

So supposing Jason has about 12 pints/5.7 L of blood in total, he could lose maybe 5 pints/2.4 L of blood at a time without dying (and that's a high estimate, he'd start going into shock way before that lmao), AND it would take him weeks to restore that blood - if he were human.

Luckily for Tim, he can steal quite a bit from Jason without killing him because of the handy dandy werewolf healing factor that restores Jason's blood almost as fast as Tim's dusty ass can absorb it. (Tim's veins @ Jason's blood: 𝔪𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔷𝔢 𝔪𝔢). Unluckily for Tim (and Jason), Tim has about a zillion hangups over drinking that much all at once. Aw.

A brief google search tells me that in an average human body, red blood cells live about 120 days. For simplicity, we'll say that Tim being a vampire and having weird vampire powers counteracts Jason being a werewolf and his blood having weird werewolf properties - so when Tim is full (and I mean full) of Jason's blood, he's good for somewhere just under that 120 days.

The blood isn't immediately starving in Tim's stupid vampire body because it's strong, sexy werewolf blood; it stays hydrated for a million years and could thrive like a dandelion in a crack in the sidewalk, let alone a perfectly good, albeit abandoned, vascular system. (Jason's blood @ Tim's veins: 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒)

That being said, Tim starts getting very hungry near the end of that time frame as the blood is used/dies, and that time frame shrinks every time he bleeds (which is often, RIP Tim). But he'd still have a solid month or so of healthy, viable Jason blood pumping through his undead ticker. (unless Tim gets REALLY beat up lol, which is not unlikely OTL)

SO all this to say: can Tim give it back?

I would say yes, IF Tim has fed recently, and he's fed A LOT. Otherwise, he just straight up might not have the blood to give anymore because his stupid husk of a body already used it all.

If he tried to give Jason blood around the time he's getting hungry again, when Jason's blood is on it's last legs after sustaining an active vampire without reinforcements for weeks to months, it wouldn't be as effective as a blood transfusion from someone who can make their own blood and therefore has a fresher supply.

tldr (again lol); Tim could become a blood donor for Jason, but only once he's regularly letting himself drink from Jason, and drinking until he's full.

[catzz089]

VERY LATE SNIPPET TIME!!!

I'm very very happy about the chapter, I think you should all be excited about it!!!

This group was definitely a new catch.

There was a man. A very large man.

Max had to crane his head up to look at him.

He stood next to another man, who was a much more normal height, but held a very foreboding presence. Behind them, there were about four other people. Everyone of them was wearing an expensive, well pressed suit, although the tall one had some loose threads from wear around the lapel. They were hardly noticeable, not unless you really looked.

Max was looking.

It must have been a custom suit, nothing on any shelf could have fit him. It still barely fit him. His muscles were fighting against the seams, especially as they folded just below his chest. His shoulders were also impressive.

“Reservation for 6, muscoli.” the regular sized man stated apathetically.

Max searched through the system, no results.

“Uhm, I’m sorry sir, but there’s no reservation here. Is there a chance you booked it for a different night?”

The regular one raised an eyebrow and huffed a dark laugh under his breath.

The massive one grinned, “No, you’re not understanding. We have a reservation under muscoli.” He said.

Max blinked.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, but you don't. Our system is very good, you would have come up.”

He frowned a little, and it wasn’t particularly kind. He opened one side of his jacket, tapping the inside pocket, “We have a reservation under muscoli,” He repeated, winking at Max.

Max typically counted himself as decent at the whole customer interaction thing, but what the fuck were these freaks doing.

“Once again, apologies, but we don’t have a reservation under that name and there are no free tables tonight. Our bar is free though, you may want to try our new drink! Just so you didn’t come all this way for nothing.

The tall man’s smile widened further, it looked fucking predatory. Always the good looking ones. Why was it always the good ones who turned out to be major assholes.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” He said, stepping closer to the desk, closer to Max, “Because we have a reservation. Now,” he continued, now reaching his fingers into his blazer pocket before pulling them back out and continuing to caress the pocket, “And it is under, muscoli.” He finished. He’d ended up about a breath from Max’s face, staring him dead into the eyes.

Max wondered if Charles was nice enough to let Max get away with shoving him back, or if he’d be fired for ‘mistreating’ customers again.

The man’s eyes were dark, Max was a little bit sick of his little power act, he shoved on a terribly unconvincing smile, “It seems there’s an issue here, let me go and grab my boss.”

“Yes, it appears there has been. Go do that.”

Max was so close to swinging a punch.

---

Charles had been working away steadily for the better half of the day. There were various reports and issues and shipments that needed to be dealt with. Not to mention the full of attacks gangs were preparing.

So, unfortunately, he couldn’t give Max his usual attention today, so when a rapid knock sounded on his office door, the exact same rhythm Max did whenever he was a little panicked, Charles felt the way his heart rate spiked was justified.

He swiped anything incriminating into a big drawer and yelled, “Come in!”

Max came in, brows pulled tight together, He looked upset, probably annoyed too.

“Max, what’s up?”

“Charles, there's a group that says they have a reservation, but they don’t, and one of the guys keeps winking at me, then he opened his jacket and patted his inside pocket, like what? They keep telling me that muscoli has a table. I told them to wait whilst I grabbed you, but to be honest I can just tell them to leave, I just wanted to take a break from the freak.”

Fuck.

[strohller27]

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[antirepurp]

oh dear jojo ova discussion is threatening to give me grade A stardust crusaders brainrot again. but like i already did a whole-ass rewrite on part3 that incorporates themes from the ova so what the fuck am i even going to do with this ??

[timeisacephalopod]

Lol out of curiosity I looked up my old job on Indeed and yes they ARE urgently hiring for the position and if I didn't get treated like dog shit for expecting a stress free work environment with reasonable expectations and not wildly cunty management who seemed to be under the impression they were doing THE most important job at THE most important store ever maybe I wouldn't have just not shown up one day 🤷🏻‍♀️ asshole thing to do to my poor coworkers but I didn't even have the energy to quit right after spending a month and a half feeling deeply surveilled at every aspect of my job lest I get another frivolous writeup no one else got for doing their jobs worse than me so fine. You want me gone enough to threaten my livelihood and SHRUG when I point out I have rent to pay, fine, but I wouldn't put up with that behavior from anyone in my life generally and I LIKE those people so my JOB pulling bullshit? Oh hell no, if I wouldn't take it from people I CHOOSE to be around on purpose I ain't taking shit from a fucking JOB. I refuse to be in a work environment that's unaware it's a GROCERY STORE, not a 5 star establishment frequented exclusively by world leaders or some shit. Like Sam, my job is cooking food at a fucking sobeys and you're acting as if I'm disarming bombs it's so important get reasonable priorities and standards for employees and then apply them equally to managers and not EXCLUSIVELY minimum wage staff 🙄

Which is funny because my new job everyone seems surprised with how fast I've caught on to stuff down to a coworker yesterday telling me he thought I worked in a shoppers prior to the pharmacy I'm in because Im catching on so quick. This isn't unusual for me either, some time in the last five or so years I've found every workplace I'm at I end up being heavily relied on because I'm good at my job, so fucking sucks to suck for sobeys because it took me some week or so to be consistently praised for being better at the job than the guy I replaced only for them to throw that out because they think management should be able to do whatever the fuck they want while they shove minimum wage staff under a fucking microscope to ensure they're doing their shit right and even that isn't consistent. They punished me exclusively because I did not lay down to be treated as a door mat and dished the treatment I got handed. If you treat me like shit I WILL treat you the way you treat me, no worse, and sometimes a little better because I don't lose my moral standards in that treatment either. Just because I'm being an ass doesn't mean I'm willing to do whatever the fuck, just enough to ensure that the person who's decided I'm their new plaything knows that'll be going both ways so fuck off. I've never had a job so willing to keep on shit management they had at LEAST a dozen meetings with regarding performance and I was the one who got punished for being frustrated about that. But I will take a new significantly less stressful job 🙌🏻

[the-official-account]

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