#especially when it doesn't turn out how you want

[l1tw1ck]

Thunder

Bottom!FTM Cloud Strife x Top!Male Reader

⛈️ Word Count: 1,799 ⛈️

While out on a mission, you and Cloud get caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing you to find shelter for the night until it stops. But after a couple days, there aren't any signs of it letting up

AFAB Language Used | I had writer's block and got bored so i decided to finally continue playing final fantasy. I stopped like 30 minutes in to write this fic at 12AM. i put down the game (temporarily! i love it) after the section 8 stuff so i'm sorry for any inaccuracies, just needed to take advantage of this burst of motivation

CW: Rape/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Power Imbalance, Frottage, Teasing, Creampie

You peek outside the window, or what was left of it, of the broken down building you're in then turn to Cloud. “Looks like we’ll have to stay the night.” Lightning strikes to reinforce your words. “Think you can handle it, pretty boy?”

“Stop treating me like a rookie.” Cloud sighs. “And stop calling me pretty boy.”

“It's hard when you look like an adorable little kitten.” You smile.

He rolls his eyes and looks around for burnable items.

“It's like watching a lion cub hunt and gather.”

“I can't wait for this night to be over.” He groans. “How about you do something useful, captain?”

“Like what, kitty?”

Cloud grips the damp piece of wood in his hand in annoyance. “Like maybe finding things to keep the water out of here.” He tosses the wood aside.

“Sure.” You stretch.

The two of you worked together to make the old building livable for the night and went to sleep thinking it’d be over by morning.

Cloud wakes up to the loud sound of thunder and sighs. He sees you leaning against the wall. “It's still raining.”

“It sure is.” You chuckle. “We might be here for a while, kitty. Unless you want to run out and somehow dodge all that lightning?”

The two of you are way too far from the base to even consider doing that. The job pays well but not enough for Cloud to not be annoyed with this sudden detour. “I better get a bonus for this.”

“Of course. You could get paid even more if you did me a little favor.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“About 60,000 gil plus your bonus pay.”

“What is it?” He asks, attentive.

You smirk. “Since we're gonna be stuck here for who knows how long, I think it’d be nice to do something as a…pastime of sorts.”

“Stop beating around the bush.”

You motion for him to come over. He rolls his eyes and gets up. “I know you're talented in so many ways,” You grab his wrist and pull him close to you. “And I wanna see if you're talented in this way too.”

He pushes you and steps back, his cheeks red. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.” You laugh.

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

The sun set and the sky continued to pour. Then days passed. You rationed food and managed to find other edible things to keep yourselves alive but the situation isn't all that great for you. You're still functioning, but just by a small margin.

The two of you were able to collect rainwater to drink and help yourselves clean up. Cloud insisted on doing it upstairs so you wouldn't watch him. You promised you wouldn't but you were lying.

As time went on, it was getting harder and harder to keep it in your pants. Your mental state started to get a little wonky thanks to your body not getting all the nutrients it needs. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted him, especially since it was better than thinking about food. It got to a point where you couldn't even fall asleep.

You look at Cloud’s sleeping face, studying the slight movements in his facial muscles as he dreams. The soft glow of your lamp allows you to properly see him despite the darkness. His chest slowly rises and falls. You know if you made an attempt, he’d wake up, any good soldier would. But it's getting hard to control yourself. Being in such close proximity with him is driving you mad. You hesitantly, and very softly, touch his shoulder. He doesn't react. You poke his cheek. Nothing. You pause.

You trace your finger down his chest and to his pants. You carefully unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn't seem to notice you pulling them down. You take in a small breath. You're so nervous it feels like there's a hole in your chest. You remove his boxers at an agonizingly slow pace. You gulp as you start to see his pussy. Light blond tufts of hair beautifully surround his soft, pudgy cunt and his t-dick. You look at him. He's sleeping peacefully. He must be more tired than usual tonight.

You gently pull his underwear down his ankles and place it on the end of the blanket he’s laying on. You carefully spread his legs and slot yourself in between them. As you begin to free your aching hard dick, you start to feel a little bad. You tell yourself to give him a huge bonus after this. You gently rub your cock along his pussy, knowing you can definitely get off just by doing this. You don't want it to hurt, at least not too much, so you decide not to penetrate him since your luck would probably run out if you tried to prep him properly.

You bite down on your lip. The view is making you feel dizzy. Your ears drown out the sounds of the thunder storm and focus entirely on Cloud. On his soft, gentle breaths and the squelching sound of his wet pussy, aroused by your cock pressing itself against it. Your heart starts to pound louder, ruining your focus on Cloud.

You let out a breathy gasp as you begin to feel your climax approaching. Your eyes flicker over to his face, watching to make sure he's still asleep. You don't know how you’ve gotten this far but you're no longer so sure that you’ll be able to stop here. Your movements stutter as your cum splatters on his body.

“Cloud..” You whisper. His lack of reaction emboldens you to keep going. You move back and slide your middle finger inside his cunt. Squelch. It sucks it in with ease, and same with your ring finger. You slowly open him up while using your free hand to jerk yourself off. He twitches. You pause and look at him before continuing.

You eventually decide to stop and finally get to the good part. You gently lift Cloud’s legs and position the tip of your cock in front of his entrance. You take your time easing into him while constantly checking if he's awake.

Once you're finally fully inside, you take a couple minutes to take everything in. You're in serious disbelief but way too horny to be concerned about it. You know that, at this point, if he wakes up, you’ll be able to overpower him.

You slowly thrust into him, happily indulging in the wonders of Cloud Strife’s pussy. You gently caress his t-dick, smiling when you start to hear him whimper. “You feel so good, Cloud– ‘s like you were made for me, to tempt me..” You murmur, gradually picking up the pace. “I didn't think it’d be so easy…”

“Maybe you're not even asleep. No properly trained soldier would sleep through something like this…I wonder if you're enjoying this. Getting off on me assaulting you in your sleep like a slut.” You notice his cheeks starting to turn red. A chill runs down your spine as you start to get a feeling your assumption is correct. “You like this, Cloud? Letting yourself get taken advantage of? Does it feel good getting treated like a cocksleeve?”

He whimpers, his cunt squeezing you.

“I know you're awake. Answer me.”

His eyes flutter open, his face flushed and deliciously seductive. “It– it feels good-!” He moans.

“Good boy.” You grin. You never would've thought Cloud would be into something like this. You roughly pound into him. He cries out in pleasure, feeling his orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside and you're gonna take it like the good kitty you are.”

“Ye- yes–!” He shuts his eyes, squirting on your dick. His mouth hangs open as the aftershocks hit him. He smiles dreamily as he feels your cum flow inside of him.

You stop and catch your breath. “Did you reject me hoping this would happen?”

Cloud nods softly. “I didn't think it would…but I wanted it to.”

…..........

He pushes you and steps back. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.”

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

Cloud climbed the semi-intact stairs and explored the second floor of the building. There wasn't anything noteworthy inside but it did give him much needed privacy. No room to lay down but he didn't need to anyway.

He walked behind a wall to hide himself in case you decided to follow him, and unbuckled his pants. He stuck his hand down them and gently caressed his t-dick. He always knew you were attracted to him, it wasn't like you were hiding it, and he pretended that he hated it. He loves your pet names and the lustful way you look at his body. Part of him hoped that one day, you’d just force yourself on him and claim him like a prize. He didn't think it'd ever happen but he never got tired of fantasizing about it. He hoped he'd have some sort of opportunity for you to finally make your move.

He'd imagine you cornering him in the locker room showers and covering his mouth to make sure no one finds out.

Cloud sneakily rubs his sensitive nipples against the cold wall tiles as you enter him. “Shh, this is what you get for being such a tease.” You spank him, your cock forcefully entering his pussy. Cloud shivers at the sounds of your heavy breathing. He can tell how aroused you are and how much you love his body. He rolls his eyes back as you stretch him wide open, his own heavy breaths making him feel lightheaded.

Or he’d imagine you giving him an ultimatum and forcing him to submit to you in exchange for keeping his job.

Cloud fakes a look of disgust as he stares at your rock hard cock. He looks up at you then back at your length, hesitating before enveloping it in his mouth. “There you go, Cloud, finally doing what I hired you for.” You praise him. He shudders at the thought, his pussy throbbing with need. “This is what you should be doing, not out on the battlefield but here, pleasing me.”

He looks up at you, trying to look angry. You smirk and push his head down, forcing him to shift his focus back.

His latest fantasy was about being trapped together. He hoped that something would happen to keep the two of you together for a long time. And he’d tease you even more to frustrate you. Then you’d finally do it.

He didn't think that exact scenario would actually play out.

[llamagoddessofficial]

What are some ways the Mafia crew would try to further woo their dearest love? And in return, what ways could we further endear ourselves to them?

Scary spooky mafia guys...... trying their hardest to woo a pretty human. AGH it hits all the notes!!!!

Horror gets overwhelmed. You make him so happy, so fuzzy, so warm - but he doesn't believe he can 'woo' you. Not when he can't bear his own reflection, not when even his Dust and Killer consider him violent and frightening. Horror believes his affection for you is his only redeeming quality. He doesn't think you'll like him, but he literally can't stop himself from trying, so when he has his heart set on you his methods are... surprisingly slow and tentative. Especially considering how mercurial he usually is. He brings you flowers that made him think of you, he makes you food, he pores over his brother's dating manual and panics when something happens that he hasn't read about. He's nervous to even hold your hand in case he scares you; the other skeletons are so handsome and eloquent and flirtatious, how could he ever compare? If he frightens you off, he'll never get you back. He has to be gentle.

How could you endear yourself to Horror? Tell him how handsome he is. Tell him how often he's charming without realising. Compliment his cooking. It really won't be that hard, he's already head over heels, but hearing that you like him means so much.

Dust... does not struggle with wooing. Sorry Horror. Dust is frightening, certainly, but his quietness gives him an undeniable magnetism. Like a wolf - sure, you can see his sharp teeth when he smiles, you can see the moonlight flash in his empty eyes. But when he draws close... you can't help but want to move nearer, and touch his soft, silver pelt. Compared to the other three, his romancing is much more underhanded, more about you than grand gestures toward you - which can honestly be a relief when you're being pursued by such big personalities. He turns on the charm, talks quietly and sweetly, stands just a little too close to be platonic, rents your favourite movie when you're down, and (most importantly) positioning himself as your friend and confidant against the other bad guys. He clearly doesn't want to be involved with them, and it's easier to keep you close if you trust him more.

Dust is won over by sincere affection and compliments. For all that looming and flirting, he sure does fall apart quickly when you look right into his eyelights and tell him you like having him around. At that point, he's all yours.

Killer firmly believes that if he can make you laugh, he can make you love him. It's all about getting those giggles, baby. Whatever kind of jokes you like is the kind he tells, he's impressively quick on the draw and never runs out of material, on occasion you may have to ask him to stop joking because your cheeks and abdomen hurt from laughing. He's careful not to be too much... he knows when to be bombastic, when to just be a bit silly and teasing, and when to offer a shoulder to lean on because you're not in the mood. His romantic side is obviously going to be in full force - bouquets, sweets, cards, dates - but his number one wooing technique is getting you to smile. The world you've been unwillingly dragged into can be truly terrifying, and even with the skeletons surrounding you, you'll no doubt feel the nerves and pressure. Killer's humour is a welcome distraction.

It's... hard to tell what endears you to Killer. Honestly, it's hard to tell what Killer is ever thinking. How do you know what's real affection, and what's just a way of making you feel comfortable around him? How can you tell when he's not acting anymore? Though, if you look at how hard he's working every single day to make you that little bit happier... maybe it's not possible to be any more dear to him than you already are.

Nightmare likes to throw his money around. He has an incredible skill for catching when you really like something, reading your face for even the subtlest shine in your eyes, and no matter how much you try to cover your reactions he will catch when you want something and buy it for you. ... But that's not his only wooing trick. Nightmare is, to most people, a violent and unpleasant man who lets his temper take him wherever it pleases. But once he understands his feelings for you and fully commits to romance, he's charming. Lethally charming. He was raised a prince, after all, Dream isn't the only one who has a way with words. You'll start a simple conversation with him, and then you blink and you're sitting on his desk in his study telling him things you've never told anyone. You'll go to him specifically trying not to be swayed - and then when you snap back to reality the two of you are sharing a very luxurious bottle of wine in his room and you've just agreed to be his plus one to a gala this weekend. After all, if he wants to buy you another eye-wateringly expensive necklace, he's going to have to convince you to try some on first.

Nightmare appreciates any attempt to get to know him. His whole life, he's felt like he's living in Dream's shadow, so when you try to actually understand and learn about Nightmare he gets as flattered as he does flustered. Find out about his favourite painters and musicians, read his favourite books, ask him about himself. No one ever has before.

[dustpages]

PornMum

I opened the front door of my flat with a loud bang. I was pissed, the shooting was called off last minute and I had travelled for two hours to reach the location.

" Hi, Mum." my little boy greeted me from his bedroom. 

It was the middle of the summer and the only thing he had been doing so far was reading and playing video games, I was aware he didn't like to socialize with his peers. I was his only parent, his father left us when he was just born.

" Honey I'll be to you in a second.” I yelled across the house walking to the kitchen to get myself something to drink. I was thirsty and sweaty, even though I had dyed my hair blonde and I was wearing just a top and skirt the heat was unbearable. 

I took some cold water from the fridge and drank it at once.  

I put the glass back in its place and headed to my son’s room, knocking softly before entering. He looked up from the screen and smiled. "How have you been?" I asked him sitting beside him.

He shrugged. "Alright, just read some manga."

"You need to go out more." I opined, trying not to sound too harsh but concerned about him being stuck at home all day long without seeing anyone else. 

He swiftly dodged my gaze and sighed deeply. " Whatever. Why are you home so early today?" he questioned. 

I sat on his bed. " My last schedule was cancelled last minute." I explained without giving him too much information.

He was just 12 years old and being told I was one of the most successful, requested and appreciated JAV actresses in Japan wasn't something I would share with him. He knew me as Mina, the kind and loving mother who always cooked delicious dinner for him. Not the one that was an adult film actress. 

"Oh, what happened then?" he asked innocently. 

I tried to explain my situation without making any reference to the industry I worked for. " The director told me they wanted to postpone it. So I came home." 

He nodded. " I see."

I glanced at him, looking him in the eyes. " Hey, do you want to eat something? I'm hungry, let’s prepare something together." I suggested with a smile. He agreed.

We went to the kitchen hand in hand, he was still short and thin for his age. But his blue eyes made up for it. We both loved cooking and baking, especially him since he enjoyed eating sweets, I did my best to make sure he had a balanced diet.

While we were cooking some of the tomato sauce for the spaghetti landed on my clothes, staining both top and skirt. 

" Dammit." he cussed. He has stirred the sauce with too much energy causing the little mess on my outfit.

" Do not worry, honey." I reassured him and got off my skirt and top right there in the kitchen. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you doing, mum?!" he said, sounding embarrassed.

I giggled and caressed his cheek. " Don’t be silly, this is nothing. You’ve seen my butt many times before." I teased him, bending over to clean the stains from the floor. 

My ass was on full display for him and I could feel him staring at my cheeks, so plump and round, my pussy lips covered with just my small panties. It was nothing new for him to see me almost completely nude since I rarely wore anything around the house but his reaction was strange, he looked flushed and nervous. 

“ Mum... Are you going to take your underwear off as well?" he stuttered. 

I turned around to look at him. " What?! No! Of course not." I laughed nervously. " Unless you asked for it."

He became red as the tomato sauce. " I don't know what you are talking about." he ran out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I sighed and turned off the stove. Slowly I made my way to him, who was sat the sofa fidgeting with his hands on in lap.

" What's wrong baby?" I asked him sitting next to him.

He didn't say anything for a good minute, busy in deep thought. " I do have a problem in my underwear," he affirmed not sparing a glance to me.

"  How come?" I inquired.

" They're wet." he whispered so low I barely heard it. " And it doesn't stop leaking." he continued. 

His words sent shivers down my spine, I couldn't believe it. 

" Let me see." I gently pulled him to stand and unbuttoned his trousers. His briefs were soaked through with precum. 

" This is normal honey. All boys your age leak precum now and then. Especially when they see a hot girl." I told him trying to reassure him. He blushed again.

"It never occurred before." he panicked.

"Well, maybe you liked what you saw earlier." I mused.

 " Maybe you liked your mum’s body." I added teasingly. 

" That’s ok honey, it’s normal to think your mother is sexy." I encouraged him.

He seemed to relax a bit. " But it’s not appropriate." he complained.

I stood up and cupped his face. " Nothing is wrong, honey. You’re my son, but also a boy." I comforted him, feeling somehow attracted to him.

" Now, if you excuse me I'm going to change. You can stay here or join me." I winked at him. His eyes fixed on mine for a few seconds before nodding in agreement. 

As soon as we were inside my bedroom I closed the door and locked it. Then I stripped from my bra and panties. My son looked at me wide-eyed, taking in my naked form.

" Come here." I said walking to him. I felt him tremble as our bodies touched. My hands caressed his back, slowly descending to squeeze his bum. 

"Do you like it?" I asked him. He nodded shyly.

I kissed his neck softly, moving my hands to grab his cock through his trousers. He gasped as I stroked him over his pants. " Take it out for me." I commanded him. 

He obeyed me pulling out his dick. It was bigger than expected for a boy of his age, yet far from the ones I had to deal with at work. I gave him a few strokes while kissing his neck and biting his earlobes. He moaned in pleasure. 

" Mum, my member doesn't get soft." he affirmed worriedly in between moans. 

"  It’s ok honey. I'll make it soft." I assured him. I knelt in front of him, licking the tip of his penis. His legs wobbled.

" Mum..." he moaned my name. I took him fully in my mouth sucking and bobbing my head, tasting him for the first time.

I worked shipped his dick for less than 2 minutes and he shuddered in front of me. "I- I'm feeling a warm sensation spreading all over my body." he stated worried. " What is happening?"

I chucked releasing his dick from my mount and enveloping it into my hand. " You are cumming." I explained stroking faster.

" Am I supposed to feel something like this!?" he shouted losing control over himself.

I kept stroking until he exploded all over my breasts, covering them with his load. He fell on the bed exhausted, breathing heavily. 

I wiped my chest clean using some tissues and lay next to him. " See, it’s ok baby. There is nothing to be ashamed of." I told him smiling. He nodded still catching his breath.

" Mum can you explain to me what just happened?" he questioned me shyly.

" You see,  honey, you reached orgasm. Your member released semen and it felt good." I explained to him.

His eyes widen in shock. " Does it happen to women as well?" 

I laughed at his ingenuity. " It does, you made me  so horny that I want to have sex right now." I confessed.

He blushed but said nothing. Instead, he stared at my breasts. I could tell he wanted me to. 

" You want to fuck me, don't you?" I asked bluntly, biting my lower lip.

He looked at me puzzled. " What does it even mean?" 

I chuckled. " Let me show you instead."

I climbed on top of him and started grinding against his thighs. He hardened instantly. 

I knew I should have gone easy on him. It was his first time and me being used to dealing with men more experienced and older than him was a risk for him, if I did go to ride him the same way I usually did with other cocks he would break in half. But I couldn’t help it, I craved him so much. 

I was horny to stop and he looked so cute under me, so innocent. I needed to fuck him, I needed him to fill me and stretch my insides.

I rubbed my slit against his hardness, feeling the head of his dick poking me. 

" What are you doing?" he whimpered.

" I'm riding your dick baby." I moaned. I aligned myself perfectly with his member and impaled myself on it. He let out a sharp intake of air as he felt himself inside of me. 

The feeling was satisfying, he wasn't big enough to give me any issue stretching my pussy. I started to move my hips up and down, feeling his cock hitting my cervix each time I lowered myself onto him. I was moaning loudly and panting hard.

He was enjoying it as well, he held my waist firmly with his hand. I leaned forward and kissed him, feeling his tongue dancing with mine. Our teeth clicked together as I bounced on him harder and harder.

As I was expecting his member throbbed inside of me after a few minutes. I had to play smart not to make him feel bad about his performance, even though I was enjoying it thoroughly. 

" Baby, I can't take it anymore." I lied. " Please cum."  

His eyes lit up. " Really?"

I nodded and kept bouncing on him, not letting him stop thrusting into me. " Yes, cum inside of me." I begged.

He gasped at my words and buried his face into my neck as he unloaded himself deep into my womb. His arms wrapped tightly around my back, holding me close to him.

When he finished pumping his seed into me we collapsed on the mattress, panting and sweating profusely. " Did I do a good job?" he asked me shyly. I kissed his forehead. " Perfect."

I couldn't afford to tell him I wanted to keep going all night long." You can sleep here, tonight." I informed him. 

He hugged me tightly. " Thank you mum."

I wrapped my arms around him as well, feeling how his heart was still beating fast and strong.

The next few days flew like always, I had been called for a few shootings and my baby kept staying in his room days in and days out. 

It was a tiring Friday night, I plopped on the sofa wearing a white top and a matching pair of shorts. I had worked all the afternoon filming different scenes.

" Baby, I'm back." I called my son.

He came into the living room carrying his laptop, he was dead serious. " We need to talk." his blue eyes made me shiver more than the air conditioner. 

" Wha.." I tried to speak, but he cut me off. " Hear me out first."

It was unusual for him to be this cold with me. " I was doing some of my homework today and one of the requests was to look on Google for some information about our relatives and guess what happened as soon as I entered your name?" he was slightly losing his temperament. 

"  I don't understand." I said confused.

" All the results were about you and your career as AV Idol!!" he exclaimed. " All those fucking films you've done! And how people call you 'JAV Queen' because you are the most requested actress!" 

I stared at him shocked. " Well.."

" Well, what?" he interrupted me again. " You told me while we were fucking that you couldn't take anymore, and yet your last video that hit the charts was you begging a man with an 11 inches dick to keep fucking you and filling your tight pussy!"

My jaw dropped. " Um... I didn't want to lie to you." I stammered. I wanted to hide under the rug.

He shook his head. " Of course, you didn't!" he yelled. His little body was shaking in anger.

" Baby let me explain." I talked in a lower tone.

" Alright." he affirmed. " Explain to me the reason why you lied to me during our first time."

I sighed, hoping for the best. " Because I wanted to make you feel good about yourself." 

He glared at me. " If you cared about me you would have told me the truth." he huffed.

" Baby!" I pleaded. " You have seen in my videos how wild I am, I didn't want to break you or to scare you. And I wanted you to have a special time with your mother, no matter the circumstances."

He crossed his arms and pouted. " Is it true you love other men more than me?"

I shook my head. " Absolutely not! I love you more than anything in the world, but I enjoy sex with them."

" I'm well aware of that now, no need to remark it." he spat.

I sighed and walked in front of him. " What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

I raised his chin defiantly. " Tell me."

He avoided my gaze. " Have you saved enough money?" he questioned. 

" More than you and I can spend in a lifetime." I replied honestly. " Why?"

He stared at me dead in the eyes. " I want you to retire, to leave that disgusting industry behind you and be just my mother, the one who is just special to me. Just my mother."

I looked at him, feeling conflicted. " Baby, money aside, how are we gonna deal with the lack of affection I crave for?" I asked him softly.

His eyes flamed. " I crave for you. I'm young and you could mould me as you please to fulfil all you need." his voice was firm.

I smirked widely. "  You do, huh?". " Yes." he nodded.

" Show me then." I challenged him. 

And he did, he proved to be more eager and greedy than any other man I had ever met. He ate me out like he was starving, making me scream and squirt in his mouth.

" Bed." I moaned, my legs were trembling from my climax. He took my hand and walked to my bedroom. 

" Baby, we are not done yet. You know, right.?" I asked him kneeling in the middle of the mattress. 

He nodded and crawled towards me. I reached down and grabbed his dick into my hand.

" I'm gonna make you ready." I stroked his length slowly and licked his head, taking him into my mouth and sucking hungrily. " You taste so sweet, baby." I praised him, feeling his precum leaking on my tongue. 

He moaned in delight and grabbed my head with his hands, pushing me down on his cock. I gagged a bit as he fucked my mouth.

After a few minutes, I pushed him away from me and lay down. " Fuck me now, baby." I urged him.

He positioned himself in between my thighs, lining up his member to my pussy and pressing it into me. He filled me, his thickness stretched my inner walls and I screamed in pain and pleasure.

" Harder, baby." I egged him on. His thrusts were slow at the beginning but became rougher as he gained confidence.

He slammed into me furiously and I let out screams of joy. He grabbed my ankles and placed them on his shoulders, pounding me relentlessly.

I felt him pulsing inside of me and squeezed my muscles around him.

" Cum, baby." I demanded.

He let out a strangled cry and released himself into my hole. I felt his hot seed coating my insides and it was glorious, so much so it triggered my orgasm and I climaxed around him. He collapsed on top of me, spent.

" That was great baby." I purred satisfied, stroking his head.

" Can we do it again?" he asked curiously.

" We will. Soon." I promised him. " You’re gonna be the king of this house from now on." 

He laughed. " Funny. Are you gonna retire for real?" he questioned. 

" I will, but there is one last shot I need to do the day after tomorrow that I cannot cancel so out of the blue." I replied. " But I want you to be on set with me, to see how everything goes." I proposed.

" Ok." he agreed. I cuddled with him and drifted away, thinking of all the dirty things I wanted to do with him. 

The day of the shoot arrived and I was nervous but excited at the same time, not only because it would be my last scene but also because my son would be present to watch it. 

We drove to the location which was a luxurious mansion, I had shot here a few times already and I knew exactly where I would find my colleagues and the crew. 

We reached the dressing room and my son followed me in, watching as I undressed and put on the costume chosen for the occasion. It was a black dress and a pair of high heels.

" It's not bad." he commented as I spun around to check how my dress fit me from behind. 

I looked at him amused. " Just not bad?" 

He looked on the floor. " You are extremely sexy." he mumbled.

I laughed. " You're such a good boy." I praised him. I leaned down and pecked his forehead, noticing as he blushed. 

I cupped his chin. " Remember, this is all for fun, and you need to remember that."

He nodded solemnly. " I promise to behave." 

" Good boy." I kissed him again.

The producer of the film came into the room to fetch me. " Hey Mina, we are all ready for you outside. This will be your last scene, do your best.

I grinned. " Of course." I waved at my son and left the dressing room. 

I stepped on set and found my partner for the shoot, the famous 11-inch dick named Jax.  He was a tall guy with broad shoulders, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. His cock was so thick that the guys on set used to compare it to a cucumber. 

" Hello, Mina." he greeted me with a smile.

I returned it. " Nice to meet you again."

" So, we will be playing as lovers cheating on their spouses and we end up having passionate sex." the producer explained.

" Sounds perfect." I approved, already knowing the script. 

" Action!" the director shouted. 

The scene began with us dancing and drinking alcohol at the party hosted in the house. It went smoothly until we reached the part where we were meant to kiss passionately and start fooling around. 

Everything changed when he slipped his hand into my dress and grabbed my breast. My eyes darted to my son standing behind the camera, he looked surprised by the sudden touch but not upset. He had an odd expression on his face, a mixture of confusion and lust. 

The scene proceeds with us groping each other. Jax pinched my nipples and slid his hand up my thigh and to my mound, caressing it through the fabric of my panties. I gasped in pleasure.

I glanced at my son again, he had a hard time hiding his boner and I felt sorry for him. " Sorry honey." I mouthed to him, hoping he could read my lips. 

He didn't seem bothered and gestured for me to continue.

We moved to the sofa and the director ordered us to remove our clothes. I obliged stripping out of my dress, leaving me bare apart from my bra and panties. Jax followed my example.

"  Let's try some foreplay, Jax can you eat her out." the director said, addressing my partner.

Jax didn't need to be told twice, he pushed me onto the sofa and settled himself in between my legs. 

His tongue was very skilled and had me writhing in pleasure within seconds, he licked my labia and my clit, sucking on my nub greedily. I moaned loudly as I felt myself nearing my release. 

My hand pushed him deeper into my folds, urging him to go on. He lapped at me eagerly, sending sparks through my body.

I looked at my son again and found him touching himself through his trousers, his face was red in embarrassment. I felt sorry for putting him in that position, but at the same time, it was arousing to see him so affected by the sight of me getting eaten out. 

Jax stopped suddenly and my gaze snapped back on him as he kneeled in front of me, holding his throbbing member. " She tastes wonderful." he complimented. 

I spread my legs further inviting him to enter me. He plunged into me, stretching me like a rag doll. I arched my back at the sudden invasion and moaned. 

" Mina, you have a tight pussy." he grunted. " I'm not even halfway in."

He began thrusting, slowly at first, allowing me to adjust to his size. Once he was fully seated in my channel he picked up his pace, pounding me fiercely.

I moaned at his ministration, my hands clawed at the cushion of the sofa.

" Oh god!" I shouted in pleasure. " Yes! Fuck me like that." I cried out as he hit my spot, rubbing it repeatedly.

My body trembled as he kept ramming me, I was at his complete mercy. My orgasm came overbearingly, causing me to convulse wildly. 

He fucked me through my climax, not stopping in the slightest. 

He was proving himself to be one of the best actors in the business. " Change position." the director ordered. 

We ended up in a reverse cowgirl. My legs were still trembling from the aftershock of my climax but I managed to sit on him, impaling myself on his cock.

I started to bounce on him, rubbing myself against his pelvis. His hands grabbed my tits from behind and kneaded them roughly. 

I was getting close again he rubbed my clit with his big fingers, making me clench around his shaft. " Yes!" I screamed, reaching another orgasm.

I collapsed on him, feeling exhausted from the intensity of my climaxes. He lifted me from his member, causing me to whine from the loss of him.

He pushed me face down on the sofa and entered me doggy style. 

His thrusts were savage and violent, he pounded me relentlessly. I loved it, the feeling of being owned by him. My body shook as he slammed into me, my tits jiggling.

His hands gripped my waist, keeping me still and preventing me from escaping his onslaught. 

" Fuck yes! Give it all to me." I screamed as he drilled into me.

"You adore my fat dick, don't you slut?" he groaned in my ear. I nodded eagerly.

Suddenly he slowed his thrusts and his member started to twitch inside of me. " Ahhh! Cum inside of me!" I shouted, squeezing him tightly.

He moaned and spurted his load into me, coating my insides with his seed. His movements were becoming slower and slower until he stopped entirely. He pulled out of me leaving me empty.

" Cut!" the director announced. 

I felt dizzy from the number of climaxes I had reached and tired from the scene. Jax helped me stand up and I thanked him. My gaze wandered searching for my son, finding him sitting far behind the camera and staring at me with an unreadable expression. 

He approached me with hesitant steps, avoiding eye contact. " So, you liked it, huh?" I teased him. 

" At first yes, while you were still making eye contact with me." he asserted. " But not at all while you two got lost fucking like animals." 

I chuckled and patted his head. " Baby, you gotta understand  that sex is not all about romance, sometimes you just wanna get lost in the act."

He avoided responding to me and walked back to the car. I pitied him, he must have been hurt by the way I acted during the shoot. 

I got cleaned and bid my farewell to all the cast, I found my baby boy playing with his phone while leaning on the car. He barely acknowledged my presence when I sat next to him. I drove back home, not daring to ask him how he felt.

" I'll order some dinner and we can watch a movie together, how does it sound?" I proposed as soon as we were in the safety of our house. 

He shrugged and kept on his phone. I decided to give him space and not bother him for the rest of the evening. 

I woke up to the sound of a knock on the door. " May I come in?" his voice was low and tender.  

I sat up and opened the door. " Of course baby, what are you doing here so late?"

He walked into my room and closed the door behind him. I could smell his cologne, a scent so fresh and enticing. " Can I sleep here tonight?" he asked shyly. 

" Of course." I welcomed him.

He hesitated not moving a centimetre. " Baby, if you want to be my partner you gotta be more confident within yourself." I began. 

" I quit as you requested, now let me show you how good I am." I added signaling him to lie with me on the bed.

He complied and snuggled next to me. I cupped his face. " Don't you want me, baby?" I whispered seductively. 

"I do." he confirmed. I kissed his lips, tasting his sweetness.

" Good. Now, let’s take off these pesky clothes." I cooed.

He stripped quickly, showing me his lean body and his hard dick. It was still impressive considering he hadn't hit puberty yet.

I removed my shirt and panties and straddled him. " Show me what you can do." I dared him.

He held my hips and guided me onto his dick, impaling me easily, I squeaked in shock. He moved his hips under me and I bounced on him, my tits swaying wildly as he pumped into me from below. 

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead, feeling the sweat droplets forming on his skin. I pressed my chest to his and kissed him passionately as he fucked me.

He reached up and played with my tits, fondling them gently. I moaned at the pleasure of it all. His finger traced circles around my nipple causing me to shudder.

He picked up speed and his thrusts became more intense, slamming into me repeatedly. I cried out in bliss from his ministrations. 

" You are gonna came me cum." I told him staring into his eyes.  

His eyes darkened. " I know, you are." he affirmed.

" Yes, baby." I moaned. I rubbed myself against him feeling his thickness fill me.

He grasped my waist and rolled us over, putting himself in control. He pinned me beneath him and fucked me savagely, his thrusts powerful and deep.

" Ahhh!" I cried out, my body shivering in ecstasy. " Make me yours." I begged.

He grunted, his expression twisted in pleasure. " Mine." he muttered. " Only mine."

His body tensed and his cock pulsed inside of me. He growled and spilt himself into me, filling my hole with his load. 

I orgasmed around him, squeezing his dick and milking him for more. 

We stayed connected for a few moments, breathing heavily, sweat dripping on our bodies.

I rolled my hips around his sensitive length. " You did good, baby." I made him moan. " But mommy demands more." 

He sighed happily but concern. " I'll do my best." he promised.

" Oh baby, I won't let you do anything less than your best and more." I rolled us once more. " You stay still and let me take care of you." 

He nodded. " Whatever you want."

I began to move my hips slowly, rotating and grinding around his semi-erect cock. His breath hitched in response. 

"You want my mouth again?" I teased. He nodded vigorously. 

I crawled down his body and took him into my mouth, sucking and licking his head and shaft.

His member grew bigger in my mouth as I pleasured it with my tongue. His hips bucked up as I sucked him, eager for more of me. 

He gasped and claimed me on him, I aligned him at my entrance and sank onto him, taking his length in one go. 

He cursed at the feeling of my inner walls gripping his hardness. His eyes roamed my body, drinking in the view of me on top of him. 

I rocked my hips, taking him deep into my core. His hands kneaded my ass as I bounced on his dick. 

I leaned down and kissed him, moaning at the feeling of his tongue in my mouth. He sucked my bottom lip and nibbled on my neck.

I moved my hips faster, increasing the pace of our coupling. His hand reached down and rubbed my clit, causing me to moan louder. 

" Yes!" I shouted as he rubbed my bud with his fingers. " You know how to make me  feel good."

His hand felt magical on my body, playing my clit. I rode him harder and harder, feeling my orgasm approaching rapidly. 

" Baby, try to hold back." I warned him, my body gave in and gushed out a torrent of liquid all over his stomach and cock.

I kept grinding on him through my climax, my muscles clenched around him.

He grunted in pain and pleasure. " Mommy!" he cried out. 

I held him still inside of me during my climax. 

I leaned in, kissing his lips eagerly. " Bravo, you didn't come yet." I praised him. " Now do all you desire to  me." 

His eyes darkened in desire. " Turn around." he demanded. I complied, crawling on my hands and knees in front of him.

" Spread your legs." he ordered. I did as told.

" What a beautiful ass you have." he complimented, slapping my cheeks lightly. 

I moaned at the sting. " Harder, baby. Spank it."

He obliged smacking me harder, reddening my skin. 

" Now, fuck it." I demanded. He didn't hesitate to plunge into me from behind, driving his cock deep inside of me.

His thrusts were brutal and relentless, he slapped my ass every time he bottomed out into me. My pussy clenched around him in pleasure.

" Ohhh!" I screamed.

His grip on my hip tightened as he fucked me wildly, his balls slapping against my thighs. His grunts were becoming more desperate and loud.

I leaned forward, bracing myself on the headboard. He bent over me and grabbed my tits, fondling and twisting them. His hot breath brushed against my ear.

" You like this?" he panted. " Being fucked by your son?"

"Yes." I breathed out. " More." I pleaded.

His fingers found my clit and rubbed it vigorously. I was close to reaching my climax again. 

" Cum with me." I ordered.

He didn't argue. " I'm going to cum!" he shouted and slammed into me one last time before he emptied himself inside of me.

I squeezed his cock as he released his seed, milking him for all his worth. He collapsed on top of me, spent. 

We remained there for a few minutes, his weight pressing down on me and his breath on my skin. His member still inside of me. 

" That was great baby." I praised him.

He rolled off me and we cuddled in bed. " Thanks." he replied.

" You deserve it." I caressed his cheek. " I love you." I admitted. 

"And I love you too, mum." he answered me. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, his eyelids drooping shut. I watched him fall asleep, lulled by the rhythm of my heartbeat. I wrapped my arms around him and fell asleep too. 

I woke up by the tip of his fingers tracing different paths on my body, his eyes looked at me with utter devotion.  " Hi." he greeted me.

We cuddled for a bit, he got more clingy and affectionate than ever. " Baby, you gotta think to find a girlfriend sooner or later." I stated.

He frowned and squeezed my flesh in his hand. " Do not say blasphemous things." he hissed. " I won't leave you alone NEVER."

I smirked. " That's my boy." 

Flesh pressed on flesh, as we explored each other’s bodies with carnal abandon. Together we steadily built to a crescendo of ecstasy. Our faces contorted with bliss,  our breaths quickened, and our bodies tensed. We were one being, united in our mutual pleasure.

We crested the wave of rapture together. I cried out, overcome with euphoria, as he filled me with his essence. His cries mingled with mine, creating a symphony of passion.

As our bodies calmed, he collapsed on me. We shared a tender kiss, savouring the remnants of our climax. We basked in the glow of our union, our souls entwined in love.  Our embrace was eternal, a testament to the depth of our bond. We knew that nothing could ever sever the ties that bound us together.

In the silence that followed, we shared a moment of pure understanding. Our connection transcended the boundaries of familial relations, and we were one in spirit and flesh. Our love was pure, untainted by the judgement of others. We had discovered our brand of heaven, right here on earth.

Together, we embarked on a journey of endless exploration, driven by the burning fire of our desires. Every day brought new experiences, fresh adventures that fueled our passion. Our love thrived in the secrecy of our sanctuary, free from the world's prying eyes.

In our hidden paradise, we indulged in a life of hedonistic pleasures, surrendering ourselves to the whims of our hearts. We revelled in the ecstasy of our love, secure in the knowledge that we were truly, madly, deeply in love.

[artdcnaldson]

*taps mic* "Ahem... jerking Art off and making him swallow his own cum"

The crowd boos. "That's disgusting!" One yells. "He'd never do that!" Another shouts. Then, everyone gasps and turns around as someone in the back stands and speaks up. "Yes, he would." Says no other than Arthur Clive Donaldson himself.

Alternatively.... cumming in you and then eating you out...

And the crowd goes... home!

🚬

Sighhhh <3

But yeah <3 Especially thinking very hard about jerking off sweet little 2006 Art. Perhaps even comforting him in your hotel room after he's lost the junior US Open final </3

He wants to feel desired, like he's won something. So he feels vindicated when you're clinging to his side, all starry eyed and happy to be in his presence. Patrick is across the room talking to Tashi, showing off his trophy with that dazzling, perfect, smarmy, frustrating smile of his. So he tries to focus on you, as you tell him about how you also won in the mixed doubles tournament, and you saw his final that morning and you thought he played really well.

It doesn't take much convincing to get him to your hotel room— he didn't really want to stay at the afterparty anyway, feeling like Anna Mueller with his stupid little plate engraved— Art Donaldson, runner up. He feels better on your bed, with your tongue down his throat, moaning into your mouth as you strip him out of the fancy outfit his grandma had bought him, expecting a win. A nice white button down, black slacks, his grandad's cufflinks. Even a goddamn tie.

"You're so hot," you murmur against his lips, once he's down to his boxers and you can feel him hard, tenting the fabric. "Can I touch you?"

And, fuck, on a night like this, who is he to refuse?

Your hands are so so soft around him, slick from spit so he can glide in your palm. Slow, practiced. You kiss him so sweetly as you jerk him off, tongue brushing his, licking into his mouth. You can taste the soda he had at the party, the cigarette he'd puffed on while you waited for your shuttle back to the hotel.

"Jesus that's—" He trails off, hips bucking up into your fist, seeking more. But you set the pace, and you want this to be slow. So you just smile, nod and kiss his jaw. You twist your fist a bit and make him groan, so his head falls back and you can trail your hot kisses down his throat. "God, you're killing me."

You relish in having him like this— panting and falling apart in your hand, literally. Art Donaldson— golden boy on the court. You toy with him— slowing down when his moans get too fast, when you feel his balls drawing up and his cock pulsing... speeding up when you want to feel his breath hot, panting against your throat, his kisses insistent.

He doesn't even have time to warn you before he's spilling into your hand. Hot, thick ropes that drip between your fingers. He groans and buries his face in your shoulder, embarrassed by his inability to last during a simple handjob.

"Sorry, that's... sorry," He stammers, his cheeks pretty pink. His cock flags, just a bit between his thighs, and you know this isn't the first time you'll make him cum that night. Not even close.

You kiss his cheek once, then bring your fingers up to his lips. He hesitates, just a moment, before his tongue peeks out, lapping at his spend on your fingers. His nose wrinkles, just a bit at the unfamiliar taste, but he obeys, until there's no trace of him left on your palm other than his spit.

You kiss his lips and taste his cum on his tongue. It doesn't take long for him to get hard again.

[cheeseceli]

Prince treatment

Pairing: Song Mingi × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, headcanons

Request: Mingi princess treatment PT 2 where his feelings get reciprocated and his new s/o brings up his self esteem PLEASE LET HIM HAVE A HAPPY ENDING, HE DESERVES IT 🥺

Warnings: mentions of Mingi being an idol, a little bit of self doubt, not proofread

A/n: part 1 here, you don't need to read it but it'd be cool of you did :) | daily click

It takes a while for Mingi to realise you love him too

Like yes, he has done everything in his power to make you see him

And he has been crushing on you since forever

But he didn't think his efforts would pay off so soon, or at all

So when you start to save him a seat, always next to you, he doesn't think too much of it

When you hug him after a show, he feels proud of himself, but not for once he actually thinks you're reciprocating him

And if his friends tell him you started to stutter around him and you always ask if Mingi is tagging along, he only thinks his friends are teasing him

Overall, he will only be bold enough to assume you like him if he sees it with his own eyes

But all his members comments made it through his head, and now he is a bit more perceptive

Meaning he cracks a joke to make you laugh, but that's the first time you laugh while looking at him

And he also wants to text you first, as usual, but you beat him to it

You also beat him in a lot of other things

He doesn't need to always ask you to hang out, as you do it first now

You start to give him gifts, especially the "it reminded me of you" type

Slowly, his insecurity starts to go away as well

The "y/n would never pay attention at me" statements turn into "they have been talking to me since I stepped into this room"

The thoughts of you not finding him attractive dies a little every time you complimented him

And the ultimate fear, the one that told him you would never like him, is extinguished once he realises that you do

You like him

You haven't told him yet, but he saw it

The eyes never lie. And as you looked at him like nothing else in the entire world mattered, he was sure

He smiles at the thought; he managed to love you right. You both are alright

Masterlist I you'll probably like: right hand, left hand

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by @strangergraphics | images 1, 2 and 3

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) Zaun Died with Silco

I want to open this by saying I understand people who are upset that there isn't more Piltover/Zaun conflict and resolution in S2 of Arcane. However, I'm going to argue here that the reason it's not in S2 after 2.03 is because the conflict is over. Piltover won. There is no more Zaun anymore as a potential political player and, ultimately, this comes back to haunt Piltover in their hour of need.

Overall, while I am invested in the Piltover/Zaun conflict, especially in S1, I'm less focused on Caitlyn and Vi's story which is our main lens for the conflict, or rather the end of the conflict, in S2. Still, I hope to offer my more Arcane worldbuilding-focused perspective. And just to get it out of the way, here are a few things I had trouble with:

I too was puzzled that anyone from the Undercity would join Piltover in the defense of the city.

I also thought it was strange to have Jayce focus on the threat that Viktor posed with his robots while soliciting help from the undercity, instead of on Ambessa, the more clear and understandable threat that would have made a better rallying point and allowed for a final discussion about the Noxian occupation of the undercity and how Noxus turning on Piltover was just them reaping what they sowed.

I was certainly taken aback when everyone was given Enforcer uniforms for the final fight.

That said, I believe there are answers to all three of these. From there, I want to dive into what exactly happened in S2 with Piltover vs. Zaun, to my eyes. Short version: there is no more "Zaun" as a potential nation or political player by 2.03 when the Chem Barons are taken out by Cait's forces, but it really died before that with Silco, who was already in a precarious negotiating situation himself and he knew it.

Very few people from the Undercity joined Piltover's defense of the city. Maybe a half dozen. I felt that was our moment of "you reap what you sow" for Piltover. A few passionate idealists who could see the bigger picture that saving Piltover does mean saving the undercity joined, but there were no hordes of volunteers. Piltover had lost the right to them and was substantially weakened for it.

Jayce choosing to focus on Viktor as the threat makes sense for him, but it was a poor political move and probably lost him volunteers he would have otherwise gained. The robot army threat is too esoteric and fantastical. "The Noxians turned on us and plan to conquer the city," is a threat that would have been better for rallying the troops, Jayce is just too single-minded to think of it. He's a bad politician.

The Enforcer uniforms are an odd sour note, but they do make sense as protective gear. Piltover doesn't have an army. There are no uniforms to give people. All they have is Enforcer uniforms. It is an odd note symbolically, but practically speaking it shows how little time Piltover had to prepare. Piltover is a civilian city going up against a military force like Noxus. They are woefully underprepared and really only have their status as defender in urban fighting to give them a prayer of even stalling the Noxian forces. Ironically, Piltover's only hope against Noxus mirrors Zaun's only hope against Piltover if they had gone to war: the difficult nature of urban fighting against an entrenched, motivated opponent on their home turf.

Now, to get into, "What happened to the overall Piltover vs. Zaun fight?" I get why people think it's lacking in S2, and I get why people find it horrifying that there is no independent Zaun at the end, all we've got is Sevika with one seat on the Council, as far as we can tell but I would point out:

Zaun is dead at this point. It's been dead since 2.03. Arguably, it really died with Silco.

As Jinx said, she didn't just destroy her own family, she cursed an entire society when she launched that rocket into the Council Chamber.

Here's the thing, Jayce was actually right when he said Zaun wouldn't stand a chance in an outright war with Piltover.

Yes, Zaun has a lot of brawlers. They have Shimmer and the Shimmer berserkers.

But Zaun doesn't have any sort of organized fighting force beyond the guards of individual Chem Barons and their factories.

What Zaun has is the fissures. It has ugly, difficult urban fighting in dangerous spaces. But as a counter to that, we have the fact that their ventilation is controlled from Piltover. In a true all-out war, Piltover could in theory just flush out the entire undercity using the Gray. Having your infrastructure entirely dependent on an enemy oppressor is what I would call a "fatal flaw" in any defensive military strategy, particularly when what they can cut off is the air you breathe. That's easily game over right there unless Silco has a way to circumvent that.

In a guerilla war, Zaun could probably hold out for a long, grinding, ugly civil war made up of mostly guerrilla attacks, in which a great number of innocent civilians will die, even in an all-out conflict with Piltover. But it would suffer catastrophic losses and probably still lose in the end.

Now, Jayce is I think somewhat naive in his claim Zaun doesn't stand a chance. Maybe Zaun wouldn't stand a chance in the long run, but they'd make Piltover pay for every inch with blood. They'd grind Piltover down into a shadow of its former self, force them to sacrifice all of their principles. To some extent, I think Jayce gets that, he gets that he doesn't want more kids to die, but I think even he underestimates just how ugly that war would be and how long it would go and how unrecognizable his Piltover would be by then.

The moment that gives Silco pause in Jayce's assessment of how easily Zaun would be crushed isn't the fighting. Silco is pretty confident that they could make Piltover pay and he's arguably looking forward to the chance on some level.

What gives him pause is when Jayce says the Council doesn't care.

To some extent, Silco like any revolutionary against an oppressive "civilized" society (heavy, heavy emphasis on the air quotes there) is that a certain point, Piltover is so soft-hearted they will get tired of the bloodshed.

What Jayce just told Silco is that the Council is more barbaric than even Silco maybe appreciated, for all their vaunted principles. There isn't necessarily a limit to how many Zaunite children will die before Piltover decides to cease hostilities. Knowing what Silco knows of Piltover's brutality, I think that is a sobering moment for Silco. That's when he decides this really is the best time to negotiate.

(Aside, this is by the way where Vi is wrong about Silco, driven by her emotions. Silco is willing to set aside the feud to get his nation of Zaun, he can be negotiated with. He's just not willing to give up his daughter (something Vi can't possibly understand at this point).)

Here's why it's the best time for Silco to negotiate and it ties into everything else:

Without Shimmer, which has been severely hampered by the raid on the factory, Zaun doesn't have anything to counter Hextech.

Jinx's wild attacks against Piltover has helped put the pressure on them that Silco capitalizes on. But it is a paper-thin threat. She is a lone albeit devastating terrorist. She makes Zaun appear more dangerous than it is but that can't last forever. Silco has leveraged her attacks into a pressure campaign against Piltover, but a serious response from Piltover (as seen in 2.03 with the strike team corners and very nearly captures her) could reveal just how fragile that threat is.

Basically, Zaun has some champions, arguably a league of legends lol, but it doesn't have an army. It doesn't even have Enforcers of its own. It doesn't have a concerted force of any kind.

The money is running out. As "Sucker" shows us in 2.02, each Chem Baron that gets taken out means less money on the table, and we're down 2 by the beginning of S2 with Silco and Finn, who arguably both fell to internal fighting.

As the Chem Barons say in 2.02, even if they got total unity in Zaun, they're outnumbered.

However, they don't have total unity in Zaun. They can't even get the Chem Barons to agree on what to do on one topic, with Jinx.

Silco basically has to accept the deal with Jayce when he does, while Zaun appears to be at its strongest. Because if he had waited any longer, the fact that they don't have the strength or money to back it up would have become apparent.

Furthermore, once Jayce resigns from the Council, which he was planning to do anyway regardless of Jinx's attack, would mean Zaun would lose its one champion with the political capital to give them independence. The window for Zaun independence is actually extremely narrow.

With Silco's death and Jinx's attack on the Council, then the subsequent eradication of the other Chem Barons, their resources, their money, including Shimmer which was the only thing Zaun really had to match them against Hextech in that arms race, there really isn't a Zaun anymore.

There's no one to negotiate with. No one to hand power to. No force that can govern itself. Zaun is completely fractured with the eradication of the Chem Barons. By taking them out, Cait removed the need for Piltover to negotiate with Zaun. And the reason Piltover chose not to was because of Jinx's rocket and then the attack on the memorial, which was orchestrated by Ambessa.

This is all according to Ambessa's design, by the way. She divides Piltover/Zaun against themselves by capitalizing on Jinx's attack. She leaves both severely weakened to make it easier for her to take over, and Piltover walks right into the trap. They would have fallen to Noxus if not for Mel's love of the city, even if you remove Viktor and Jayce's plotline entirely.

TL;DR Zaun is gone, guys. It's a distant dream. Sevika is the only person with an interest in making it happen anymore and she can't even get the Jinxers to listen to her. All the factions are easily arrested at the rally. Piltover has no reason to negotiate with any of these people. As the lone torchbearer for that cause, it makes sense for Sevika to be on the Council but beyond her, there is literally no one else to give a voice to (since Ekko doesn't appear to have an interest).

At least, until the Noxians turn on them, and then there's an interest in Piltover and the undercity joining forces, but as I referenced at the beginning of this, Piltover has now lost the right to the undercity's help AND lacks the undercity's resources too. Now Noxus has Shimmer instead of Piltover or Zaun, in addition to their sophisticated and expertly trained military force. As Jayce said, they were meant to lose this fight. Arguably, they never had a chance of winning if not for Mel claiming the loyalty of the Noxians in the wake of her mother's death and everything Jayce did to stop Viktor and the Hexcore.

[redbleedingrose]

Can you please write cute fluff headcanons of the acotar men ( whichever you want to write about) pampering their fem s/o with a massage because they see her tense with stress? Please and thank you .

Pleaseeee, the Bat Boys and Vanserra Bro's know how to treat their girls, especially when they are stressy spaghetti!!

I kind of want to split this up into a mini series, so I will do Rhys first. Let me know who y'all want second in the comments!

Rhysand

okay first off, why are you even stressed? This male does his very best to make sure his darling is never worried about anything.

But its okay, sometimes your emotions get the better of you. Not your fault darling, you're just his sweet girl who likes to worry your pretty head about things like how emotionally constipated Az is, or how Cassian is working overtime with his training after throwing out his back (embarrassing for the old ass male), and how Morr is being too secretive these past few months and something is definitely going on with her. Rhys thinks it is so adorable how you worry about the members of the inner circle, how you take care of them in the ways that they need.

He loves watching you pitter patter around the apothecary, trying to gather materials to create a balm for Cass' back. And he can't help but muse over you fussing over Azriel, forcing him into the settee in your office and having yourselves a little therapy session (he knows he will hear the tea about it later when you both go to bed, and he cannot wait). He does moan and groan when you plan for a girls night out with Amren and Morr, he wants to have some alone time with his mate, but you settle into his lap and pepper kisses all over his face and neck putting him into a lovesick daze before rushing off with a promise of what is to come when you arrive home from your night.

Anyway, you do sometimes get overwhelmed, you care so much. You worry about Rhysand, you worry about the inner circle, and more, you worry about Velaris and the entire night court. Being the first high lady of the Night Court has designed a load of pressure on you to be perfect at all times, to always say and do the right thing. And Rhys, well he grew up with that pressure. He knew this was going to happen to him, but he cannot imagine the stress you give yourself. Again, you care so deeply, and that is one of the things that made Rhys fall for you, so much so, he physically aches when you aren't around.

You always try to hide when you feel overwhelmed, too embarrassed and ashamed to admit it. Part of you doesn't want to bother the high lord, knowing he, himself, is incredibly busy putting out fires on a daily basis, and handling it with such grace. It is almost annoying how effortless Rhys rules. But Rhys knows. He knows you, and he knows your heart and soul. You don't have to tell him you are feeling overwhelmed.

He can feel it, he can see it. He notices everything about you. He clocks the crinkle of concern between your eyebrows, the way your hands shake ever so slightly as you read through and sign the most tedious and boring paperwork, the way you twist and turn the custom wedding ring on your finger, the way you shake your right leg as it rests across your other leg and how you pause it when you finally become aware you are doing it, only to start again. You are teeming with anxiety, and he will do everything in his power to get you to relax. He can't have his beautiful wife worried like this, oh no, not at all. You are too good, too pure, too precious to him to ever allow such a thing.

After deciding he has seen enough of his pretty girl worrying, he swoops you up, out of your chair and into his arms, right where you belong, carrying you just like he did on your wedding night, his stunning bride. He ignores your protests with a firm shake of his head, and kissing the side of your head with a small hum, tightening his grip on your squirming thighs and right at the edge of your breast, carrying you out of your office and into your shared bath. Halfway to the bathroom, you gave up your fussing and settled into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head into his warm chest. He sets you down gently onto the counter, and traces his hands up your sides and settling onto your jaw, softly kissing every part of your face he can reach, focusing his attention on your rounded cheeks, pouted lips, fluttering eyes and your temple instead of answering your questions on what you are doing in your bathroom when you each have mountains of paperwork lining your desks that need to be completed before the winter solstice next week. "Darling, I don't mean to hush you, but hush. You, my mesmerizing mate, are too stressed out for your own good. I don't want you to worry about a single thing, and I will take care of it."

You immediately go into full denial mode, rambling with a quivering lip, "I can handle it Rhys, I am High Lady, and this is my duty, and I know what I am doing." Your husbands violet eyes twinkle as they normally do when they are focused in on you, and he listens on as you bubble out excuses and far fetched tales describing how you "really aren't stressed" and have "no idea what he is talking about," all the while rubbing at your tense shoulders and kissing the side of your mouth until he finally hushes you again. "S'alright baby, I know. I know you can handle it and that you know what you are doing. But if I am being honest, sometimes I get overwhelmed. And I just need you, I need you to be close to me. So will you please take this bath with me doll? I will even feed you chocolate covered strawberries and give you a massage with that lavander oil you love so much after."

The pecks to the side of your mouth were enough to convince you to stay with your mate, and follow through on his plans for a relaxing evening, but you didn't need to tell him that. The chocolate covered strawberries and full body massage are just an added bonus. The quirk of your lips is enough for your mate to vanish both your clothes and place you into the warm bath in front of him, holding your back close to his chest. He washes your hair, even letting the conditioner sit in while he presses his fingers into the tight knots in between your shoulder blades. After washing each other off, you both find yourselves snuggling in your bed designed for his large illyrian wings. You lay your head against his corded chest, giving into the deep sleep that calls you as he holds you pressed up against him.

Thank you so much for reading! Please like, comment, and reblog! It mean's the world to me.

Here is more of my work: Masterlist

[siryouarebeingmocked]

I already explained why statistically, much more MAGA cultists are likelier to have a concealed carry permission.

So?

The Democrats do not want to disarm people, that’s still a Right-wing underdog fantasy.

Plenty of Democrats explicitly want laws against "assault weapons" and other gun control. Including Biden.

They just want the minimal amount of gun control required to stop the weekly massacres which, surprise, are not prevented by other gun owners.

Turns out mass shooters often target places where random people are unlikely to be carrying guns. And sometimes that still doesn't work.

Also, America has more guns than people. An estimated third of the country owns guns. 100+ million people.

52 shootings a year is not actually very bad by comparison.

Also, most criminal shooters don't own guns legally anyway.

Also, Hitler passed plenty legislation to gain the favor of everyone who owned arms.

Nice argument, Senator, how about you back it up with a source?

Don’t try to educate a German on Nazi history.

Turns out your nationality doesn't actually keep you from being wrong on Nazis.

Such as forgetting, missing, or ignoring how the Jackboot Jerries loosened gun control, especially for Nazi Party members, but they also screwed over Jews who wanted to own guns.

You know, the people the Nazis wanted to violently oppress and murder.

Stop projecting and read one of the few history books that haven’t been banned by Republicans, dumbass.

Again, you are claiming there's evidence that backs you up, and offering no actual support or sources or even the name of a specific book you're referencing.

It's nobody else's job to support your argument.

I mean, there’s other countries where people can own firearms pretty easily, and they don’t have weekly massacres. The Dems don’t want to take all the guns away, that’s what the Reps are putting in their mouths.

I like how you said "don't want to disarm people", and now it's "take away all the guns". This is a standard motte-and-bailey.

"Disarm people", logically, includes any disarmament, of more than two people.

But when you slide "all" in there, then wanting any amount of disarmament that leaves a single person with a legally owned gun (or other weapon) qualifies.

It's a common strawman. The right is, broadly, opposed to any disarmament.

Speaking of, here's failed Presidental candidate Kamala Harris;

“I feel very strongly that it’s consistent with the second amendment to say we need an assault weapons ban. They’re literally tools of war they were literally designed to kill a lot of people quickly.”

Harris is wrong in several ways.

There are more US civilians with "assault weapons" than there are US soldiers, period. The current 5.56 NATO calibre was chosen for suppressive fire, which is mostly not supposed to kill people.

And even that's currently being phased out in favor of more powerful rounds.

And then we come to actual use. If you combined every rifle homicide in America, they'd be less popular murder weapons than handguns. Or knives.

Or bare hands.

Rifles are rarely used to shoot actual people, even in self-defense.

Also, the term "assault weapon" was made up to make certain guns sound scarier. There is no consistent social or legal definition, and most people who use it, I suspect, have no idea what supposedly makes the guns deadlier, on a factual level.

Also, she supported Red Flag Laws. Which are literally about disarming people.

Come to think, I don't think there's any point in this debate that you describe what actual specific gun control measures you support.

A lot of gun control supporters have that issue, actually.

BTW, last time I checked the numbers for in Germany, y'all had an estimated 20% of the population owning guns, compared to America's 33%. Even if I changed the criteria to just the amount of guns, the gap was even larger.

And Germany's homicide rate and mass shooting rate are still much lower than America's. Even proportionately.

Which actually indicates gun laws and ownership are, at best, not the only issue in play.

Also, I'm from one of many, many countries with a higher gun homicide rate than America, despite less legal ownership and more gun control.

I personally knew at least three people who were murdered with guns in my home country.

One of them was murdered down the block from the school my cousins happened to be attending at the time.

The school I went to.

The school my aunt used to work at.

Here's an Example as to why Donald Trump is fascist

Donald Trump wants Concealed Carry Reciprocity.

What is that?

In the United States, it is not automatically legal to carry a firearm in a concealed manner just because one has a firearms license. One needs to obtain a special additional permission to do so. Like most things in the United States, Concealed Carry is decided on a state-by-state basis, meaning a person's permission for Concealed Carry only applies in the state it in which it was issued.

Concealed Carry Reciprocity is the legal concept that a permission for Concealed Carry, issued in any state, applies in all states. So, if a gun owner was permitted to Concealed Carry in Oklahoma, he can currently only do so in Oklahoma. Doing it in any other state is a crime. Under Concealed Carry Reciprocity, it would not be.

What does Donald Trump intend with this?

Donald Trump knows that his most loyal followers live in deep red states, which also have the highest concentrations of gun owners. Due to the high concentrations and due to Republicans being generally against gun control, it is likelier that more gun owners in red states have Concealed Carry permission. Donald Trump wants to allow people to Concealed Carry in any state if they've received permission in one, because he knows that most people who will take advantage of this will be his most loyal followers.

Donald Trump plans to lay the groundwork for his version of Mussolini's Blackshirts and Hitler's Brownshirts, his own paramilitary force of loyal followers who are ready to attack and murder fellow citizens in open daylight for their political positions that oppose their idol. Concealed Carry Reciprocity makes it easier for them to do this.

This is fascism.

[baepsays]

saw something about stoner suguru mention so let me draw a picture here using my own two cents (and experience, rayray hearts weed)

stoner!suguru who at first was very opposed to the concept of weed, he used to be one of those cigarettes and cigars and whatnot over weed type of snob. then he met his partner who on surface level doesn't look like it but gets high on almost daily.

first time he tries weed with his partner he gets really giggly and touchy and it wasn't that long into your relationship so you guys hadn't even said I love you's yet, but poor thing high off his ass off of only 2 puffs from a single joint, just blurts out how much he's down right pathetically in love with you that he's willing to even try weed for you.

this turns into a heavy make out session with you just at first kissing softly, sitting beside eachother, passing the same blunt—to tangling your fingers in his loose locks and getting on top of him, barely hovering over his lap, one of his hands on your ass the other pulling you somehow closer and deeper by your throat. eventually he just pulls your ass (literally) on his lap, the hand on the ass now groping and kneading, another roams around your waist until it goes up your shirt and just starts rubbing circles around your back.

and when you think oh i know where this is going ~ well, he passes out then and there on the floor of the balcony where you guys were smoking, with a huge grin on his face and his hair a mess, sprawled around his head.

Next day he barely remembered anything and said oh well he wouldn't want to do that again (even if it felt really good). but still gets high with you when he comes over to your place that week and again just confesses his undying love for you with a dopey grin and rips his hair tie off his hair then throws it away from the balcony. his reason being that he'd rather have you keep his hair in place by pulling on it. and starts talking about this new kind of tea he found which reminds him of your perfume and how he is actually always thinking about how he wants to just bite you and leave marks all over when he's sometimes spacing off and you ask him what was he thinking about so hard. more than half of the time it's about wanting to bite you.

he did't know he already said I love you to you while he was high, and how he always starts yapping way more than what he normally does, breaking his cool mysterious guy persona. someone might even say satoru has definately rubbed off on him the way he starts talking about anything and everything, especially related to you maybe even a miniscule detail. when he is high, he usually starts with "you know. I am so disgustingly in love with you. it's insane." after silently exchanging a joint with you and letting the weed get to him. so when you found out accidentally one of these days where he got high and told you about his elaborate plan for a date that Sunday to finally tell you that he loves you, all you did was smile and nod. you told him a month after that date that he actually told you 'I love you' the very first time you guys got high together.

safe to say suguru is a changed man who loves getting high with his partner on their balconies on weekends or on nights after a particularly shitty day where all he needs is to get his mind to shut up and just look at his partner, kiss them silly and touch them all over.

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (4/?)

Purposely getting yourself kidnapped by the Autobots so you can persuade Ratchet to teach you some first aid, as you're worried that Megatron's escalating violence against Starscream will one day leave him with injuries you don't know how to fix.

There's more Ratchet in the middle (because I love him as well. I want to hold both of them in my hands with gentol totche.)

Mashup of timelines as usual, but I def realized that when I imagine Starscream he's visually the G1 or IDW design, and when I imagine Ratchet it's TFP. I love MTMTE Ratchet but I'm not quite caught up yet haha.

Since you and Starscream were now sharing a berth, it was inevitable that he would find out about the nightmares. Every time you jerked awake, you would take great pains to quietly settle back into berth even if recharge eluded you. The reason was simple - you didn't want to bother Starscream with it. He gets very little recharge as is, and probably sees things every solar cycle that are ten times worse that what you're faced with.

Starscream doesn't comment, if he knows - another bot might have rushed to console you, but his brand of comfort was to apparently grant you the dignity of being vulnerable in private, especially since you were more or less chassis to chassis with each other in berth.

However, he finally can't hold back when you begin zoning out during training. "Earth to cadet, as the fleshlings say," Starscream snapped, waving a servo in front of your faceplate. You jerk awake, optics cycling before they zero in woozily on Starscream's faceplate. Pinched with irritation, but was that... concern?

You lightly smack your helm in hopes it'll get your processor back to optimum function. No such luck, but it was worth a try. "Sorry, sir."

He narrows his optics at you, taking in the exhausted slump of your frame. For a long moment, no one says anything.

Then, Starscream abruptly turns heel, his back to you. "Dismissed."

But - but you've been here for barely a joor, and - "Sir, please, it won't happen again-"

"And waste my time and yours?" Starscream says bluntly. You flinch, but he just presses on.

"You're in no condition to absorb the information I am giving you, which, if I may add, is exceedingly valuable to your success as a seeker. Recharge properly, and perhaps your processor will be able to comprehend simple instructions such as 'stay awake'." He sniffs, but glances over his shoulder at you - and his optics are gentler.

"We will try our luck again then."

Your first response is to sag with relief even as you watch him stride away, because he wasn't giving up on you. Your second response, however, is that of pure consternation.

The nightmares have gotten worse.

Ever since you had to personally patch Starscream up as he bled out on the floor of his habsuite, the nightmares have gotten so much worse. There are momentary flashes of hate in your processor for Megatron, but they are quickly tamped down by fear. Even your mind is not a safe place, after all, with Soundwave here.

The memory of Starscream, broken and battered at your feet, replays over and over. In some of your nightmares, he is exactly as you found him - gouges in his frame, ripped wires, leaking energon. But just as you thought you'd gotten used to the memory (he's not like that anymore. He's alive and well. He's not like that anymore.), your processor decided to play tricks of the worst kind on you. Offering all kinds of ways Starscream could be hurt, in full technicolour detail, optics shuttered and frame unnaturally still. Worst of all, you could only watch as your processor conjured injuries beyond your rudimentary expertise, that Starscream could very well succumb to because you didn't know how to save him.

That night, the image in your processor is so bad that you bolt upright with coolant already leaking from your optics. You swipe roughly at your faceplates as the memory continues to remain fresh in your mind, fighting to get your trembling frame under control.

You turn to look at the bot next to you, if only to reassure yourself that he's okay, assuming he would be in recharge - but to your surprise, a pair of glowing red optics meet your frantic gaze.

"Sir," You manage to garble out, through the layers of static distorting your vocalizer. "I'm sorry for waking you."

Starscream says nothing. His optics flick to the coolant that drips from your faceplate even as you try to assure him that you're fine, and suddenly, he opens his arms to you in wordless invitation.

"I- sir?"

It's not the first time you would have recharged in his arms. But... this? You hesitate, unsure whether this is too much to ask. Evidently, you've hesitated for too long, because Starscream wraps a servo around your wrist and pulls you gently but insistently to him.

"I'm here," He murmurs gruffly, in low, musical Vosian. And it makes coolant spring to your optics all over again, because ever since Megatron had taken charge, he'd quickly ensured that all his soldiers spoke only standard Cybertronian - a quick and brutal 'show' had made sure of that. You slip into recharge with the gentle lilt of Vosian in your audials, and for once, no more nightmares plague you. You're even more surprised to awaken not to an empty berth, but still pressed up against Starscream's warm chassis.

"Oh, good," Starscream had rasped, vocalizer not quite activated after recharge. "You're awake. There are some things I must see to, so I trust you will stay out of trouble in my absence."

You barely had time to even nod before he was gone. Checking your internal chronometer, you whistle quietly. Was it that late already? Had... had Starscream stayed on purpose, so you wouldn't panic upon seeing an empty berth?

You feel more recharged than you have in many solar cycles. However, your newfound energy and the warmth thrumming through your spark for your commander has only strengthened your determination to do something. Starscream might have kept the nightmares at bay last night, but you knew it wasn't sustainable. The only way you can bring some semblance of peace to yourself and him is if you can become confident in your abilities to repair him without external help.

Which is, admittedly, a lot easier said than done.

You knew you were about to do something really, really stupid.

The Decepticons had traded tales about an Autobot medic named Ratchet, before. The way they spoke of him with begrudging respect was enough for you to believe that Ratchet could work literal miracles, and that was precisely what you needed right now. But how could you possibly approach him?

You've heard enough about the Autobots, observed enough about them to know where they differed from the Decepticons. One major difference was that even when they took prisoners, they were not cruel. What if...?

You're too deep into this to give up. There's too much at stake here - despite the risk, if Ratchet was willing to hear you out, you might one day have a fighting chance to save Starscream's spark from flickering out. Which is how you found yourself trekking along the side of a dusty, abandoned road along some dry, sandy plain, not making any effort to hide yourself as you hoped for an Autobot to come across you.

But at the same time, what if they didn't let you go after taking you prisoner?

Before you can continue to second guess yourself, the roar of a well-oiled motor engine sounds behind you, and you almost laugh at how obvious you're being. A seeker, walking? The Autobot scout, Bumblebee, skids to a stop behind you, and you hear the smooth clicking and whirring of his transformation.

"Looking for trouble?"

Not particularly, You think, turning round to face him, but as Bumblebee falters, you realize you've spoken out loud.

This is the first time you've come face to face with the scout. You're about the same age, and for a moment, you both regard the other with open curiosity, like bots being introduced for the first time by a mutual acquaintance. In another timeline, you wonder if you could have been friends.

Bumblebee squints, looking unsure whether or not to drop his fighting stance. You make no move to engage, and simply stand there, servos dangling limply by your sides. This idea is really, really stupid.

"Defecting?"

You reset your vocalizer. "Not exactly."

"Still enemies, then," Bumblebee says, and he doesn't bother to hide the note of disappointment in his voice. Enemies. He doesn't even know you. You wonder if the divide between you runs too deep, even if only in name for you. Is there nothing more to you beyond faction name?

The bubbling hope of confessing to Bumblebee your real intentions abruptly withers. Why, indeed, would he help you if he knew you wanted to help the SIC of the Decepticons? Still, you hated to say it, but it seemed that Bumblebee had the privilege of naivety for a few more stellar cycles at least, under Optimus' kind guidance. Within the Decepticon ranks, you'd quickly learned that some bots simply didn't deal in kindness. You supposed it was back to the original plan, then.

"I've been out here for a while," You say, pretending to stagger a few steps. You are in the middle of a scorching hot desert plain, after all. Casting your hook, you hope to Primus that Bumblebee buys the act, because even to you, it looks phony as hell.

"I think I'm lost." Bumblebee, who was originally looking suspiciously at you, widens his optics as his little antennae twitch upwards in shock. Line.

You stagger even closer, pressing a servo to your helm. "Bumblebee-" You close your eyes and pray to Primus that the Autobots are actually nice. You really haven't thought any further beyond getting yourself captured. Maybe you wouldn't even get the chance to talk to Ratchet. But you're too far into your little one-man show to back out now. You crash to the ground, and with your optics offlined, hear Bumblebee's yelp of shock, the scuff of dry earth beneath his pedes as he races over to you. And sinker.

"Oh, Primus," Bumblebee mutters. "Why couldn't it just have been a fight? I can do that."

You're honestly hating this war more and more. Bumblebee felt so much like a little brother - you're torn between fighting to keep the laughter from bubbling up, and the need to scold him for letting his guard down so easily. What if it was a genuine trap you'd set for him? He'd rushed to your side with no regard for his own safety. Then again, this was exactly what you'd been banking on - you count your lucky stars that it was indeed Bumblebee you'd run into and not anyone else.

"Ratchet," You hear Bumblebee say into his comm. "There's a 'con here, but not in good shape." Just to really drive it home, you groan weakly from where you're collapsed in a heap on the ground. It must have worked, because Bumblebee's voice pitches upwards in slightly panicked urgency. "Yeah, yeah, I'll bring them through. Thanks, Ratchet."

Huh. You really hadn't expected it to be that easy. The tales you'd heard of the Autobot medic were from when you used to sleep in the barracks with the lower-ranking Decepticons. This varied from his rough bedside manner, his surprising ability to fight ("He had green, glowing optics," One Decepticon said with a shudder), his past as the 'Party Ambulance' (what.) to his relative fame amongst older bots as a highly respected neurosurgeon before the war broke out. Most strikingly, he'd apparently patched up Autobots and Decepticons alike on the battlefield.

"It's some medic code he has," Snorted the Decepticon next to you. "Stupid, if you ask me. Why fix up the bots who are out to get you?"

"Lay off the medic," Another bot admonished sharply. "You might not like it, but quite a few of us owe our sparks to him."

A couple of low, murmured agreements resounded around the room. There was undeniably a begrudging respect for him all around, and a fair number of the bots clearly didn't want to be the ones to take him out, if it ever came to that.

You were thinking about Ratchet even when the lights went out. Even though you'd never met him personally, admiration swirled in your spark for the bot with such a strong moral code that he would never falter in his actions. You'd always dreaded having to choose a side. Being with Starscream meant that you'd 'chosen' the Decepticons, sure - but it was Starscream you were loyal to, not Megatron. You'd resigned yourself to eventually signing your spark away to the cause, because you couldn't think of any other way to survive there. But perhaps, you think, you could be like Ratchet.

And now - as Bumblebee carried you through the swirling groundbridge, your spark thrummed at the possibility of imminently meeting him for real.

As soon as the roar of the portal closed behind you, your audials prick up as a low, gruff voice speaks.

"Are you hurt?"

"Not a dent," Bumblebee says. "Not sure about this one, though."

"Just the one?"

"Yup."

"Huh," The other voice says. "I'll tell Optimus to keep an eye on that area. Never know if the Decepticons are planning something."

You feel Bumblebee shrug, even with you gathered in his arms. One of these days, you really have to tell him off for being too trusting. Enemy or not, he seemed like a decent bot and you didn't want trust to be the thing that destroyed him.

A deep sigh. "Put them in the med bay and go refuel first."

"Sure thing," Bumblebee chirped, and you felt the cold metal of a medical berth against your wings. A few nanokliks passed, and you continue to remain still, pretending to be unconscious. Should you...? Ratchet, however, beat you to it. "Alright," He groused, as soon as you heard the door to his med bay slide shut. "Get up. I know you're not actually unconscious."

Your eyes shoot open. "How-?"

The bot in front of you looks unimpressed. "I'm a medic."

"Right," You mutter sheepishly. Sitting up on the medical berth, you take in the sight of Ratchet for the first time. Red and white, built and stocky. Rounded helm, pointed chevrons. You finally work your way to his faceplate. Glowing blue optics stare exasperatedly back at you.

"Sorry," You mumble, and Ratchet sighs again. He seems to do that a lot. Then again, he seems very tired. You don't blame him.

"If you're done," He grumbles, "I'd like to know why you got yourself kidnapped on purpose." There's an air of mistrust in his optics now, a tenseness to his frame that you don't like. In a way though, you're grateful that he's cutting right to the chase.

"I wanted an audience with you," You begin, haltingly. Ratchet's optics narrow slightly, but he doesn't say anything and just waits for you to continue. "I heard that you fixed up both Autobots and Decepticons before, because you have a code. And I know you're an Autobot - " You glance at the polished insignia on his chassis, "- but I'm kind of... like that, too."

Speech was never your strong suit, and you were glad Starscream often did the talking for you. His silver tongue had surely gotten the both of you out of a few tight spaces before, but you never dared to ask about the details. Fortunately, a sharp in-vent tells you that Ratchet has understood what you were clumsily trying to get across. He crosses his arms over his bulky chassis, optics roving carefully over your faceplate as he assesses the situation.

"So," He asks carefully, "What's your code based on?"

Ah. He'd seemed receptive so far, potentially persuaded to your own one-man cause, but here was the detail that might make him eject you bodily from his med bay.

"Starscream."

You watch as a range of emotions flit across Ratchet's faceplate. Eventually, it settles on confused and mildly horrified. "Starscream? Are you sure?"

"Yes," You say, feeling oddly defensive. Ratchet seems to pick up on this, and he unfolds his arms with an even deeper sigh. "A seeker," He mutters, optics flicking over your form as if really just seeing you for the first time. "How old are you?"

You tell him.

Ratchet pinches the bridge of his helm, between his optics, a bone-deep weariness emanating from his frame. "I'm assuming you're one of Starscream's students, then," He says.

"The last one," You add quietly. The Quintessons launched an attack on the Vosian Air Academy, and I was the only one who survived."

"...Ah."

Another hum, and this time, his optics are appraising, as if something had clicked into place. You, a youngling like Bumblebee, would not be sitting before him with your paint in near pristine condition, had someone not taken you under their wing. Literally and metaphorically.

"So what is it you want from me?"

"Can you teach me some first aid?" You blurt. Ratchet's brows furrow.

"I could," He says, confusion evident in his voice. "But what for? Don't the the Decepticons have a medic?"

"Well, yes," You hedge, "But, you know. Starscream."

That part he understands - it was no secret that the Decepticons had a brutal system of hierarchy that relied on shows of power. It made sense that Starscream wouldn't want to be seen in a vulnerable state. But there's still something he's missing.

"As far as I know," Ratchet presses carefully, "Starscream has not sustained any major injuries at the hands of the Autobots in recent stellar cycles."

You probably shouldn't be revealing so much information about the inner workings of the Decepticons, but as your hate for Megatron simmers into exhaustion, you slump on Ratchet's medical berth and decide to tell him anyway.

"Megatron... punishes him. A lot."

Ratchet seems slightly taken aback by that. Anyone with functioning optics could tell that the Decepticons were kept in line by fear, and it was no secret that violence ran rampant within the ranks - but to hear it so plainly that even their SIC was no exception? And to have you, trembling before him, desperate to help him, clearly knowing that rudimentary first aid was not enough for whatever injuries Megatron had inflicted - it must be worse than Ratchet had ever thought.

He checks his internal chronometer - you've been here for about a joor. Soon, someone is going to come looking for you, and neither faction is looking particularly appealing right now.

"We don't have much time. Hurry up and get over here."

Your helm shoots up as Ratchet pivots crisply away from you, suddenly all business. You leap off the medical berth, following him to a large table where he thunks down a heavy med kit. This Ratchet, intense, precise, laying a series of tools in front of you with deft servos, is undoubtedly the war medic that had earned every inch of respect he got. Now you understand why the Deceptions were so begrudgingly impressed by him.

Ratchet hesitates for a nanoklik before pulling out some even more complicated looking tools. Is this really happening? At your wide, awestruck optics, Ratchet huffs, a light flush of energon on his faceplate at your bursting admiration. "Alright already. Stop staring at me and pay attention."

Two joors pass before you hear the sounds of a commotion outside. Ratchet's audials flick agitatedly before he glances at you. "You'd better go," He murmurs, low and urgent.

Go? Just like that? Ratchet must have seen you freeze up in disbelief, because he snarls and springs into action for both of you, ushering you out of medbay and towards the groundbridge.

"I'm sure you know how to get back," He says, quick and curt, typing in a set of coordinates. The groundbridge shimmers to life. "Go," He orders, in a voice that brooks no argument. I'll handle this."

You give him one last, lingering glance before you step through the glowing green portal. Ratchet's staring at you too, something hovering unspoken in his optics. "Kid," He finally calls, as the sound of the commotion approaches. "No matter where this war takes you, be true to yourself."

You give him a jerky nod, overwhelmed but endlessly grateful.

With that, the groundbridge warps out of existence behind you, leaving behind a cacophony of Autobot shouts and abruptly plunging you back into the silent, sandy plain where you first met Bumblebee.

For a nanoklik, you feel so very alone.

But leaving Starscream was out of the question. Amidst all the uncertainty in the war, this is the one thing you're sure of. You leap into the air, transforming into your alt mode. If you were lucky, Starscream would still be on duty and you could sneak back before anyone had realized you were gone. You spiral through the air, picking up speed as night begins to fall. The flames of your thrusters illuminate the purple dusk as you add another burst of speed, your form now a screaming blur in the sky.

But before you can reach your destination, your destination reaches you first. Your only warning is a streak that blitzes into your field of vision before something huge and heavy tackles you out of the sky.

The impact completely knocks your systems offline for a nanoklik. Unable to even scream, you struggle to force your systems to reboot, gain back control of your frame as you hurtle towards the ground - but strangely enough, you quickly realize that you're not freefalling wildly through the air. Battling against the screaming winds at your back, you force your optics open to see none other than a furious Starscream, his servos gripping your arms with deathly force as he drives you downwards.

"Where the Pit were you?" He hisses, over the shrill whistling of air in your audials. "I've just spent the last few joors hunting every corner of this slagging dirtball for your sorry aft!"

As you plummet downwards, you struggle to make sense of his words. He was looking for you?

"What if Megatron got to you first?" He snarls, denta bared. "I told you to stay put! Do you treat my words like slag?"

You didn't think he'd catch you sneaking out, but you never imagined he'd be this angry. Both of you rocket through the clouds, the green environment of Earth swirling into your field of vision. Was this it? Had Starscream finally decided you were more trouble than you were worth? You wouldn't blame him. Shuttering your optics, you brace yourself for impact. His servos, where he's touching your frame, are warm. That's how you'd remember him, before you go out. Stolen moments of warmth with him. After all he'd done for you.

But over the screaming wind in your audials, your don't hear so much as feel his engines screech as he pulls up at the last minute. The warmth of his servos abruptly leave you, and your optics fly open as you are dropped a few meters above a patch of open grass and promptly eat ground. As you push yourself up with a groan, not so much sore but still ablaze with adrenaline, the realization suddenly hits. What Starscream did... Was not unlike how carriers and sires dealt with unruly seeker sparklings when they refused to leave the air. You shake your helm in disbelief, spitting out another mouthful of earth soil. Starscream... had quite literally grounded you. Huh.

You roll over to the sight of him seething above you, his ruby optics alight with rage, intake twisted in a snarl.

"Imagine," He hisses, looming over you, "When I learned you were being held captive by the Autobots - have you no sense of self-preservation in that scrap-filled processor of yours? Have I taught you absolutely nothing?"

His wings shudder with barely concealed anger as he begins to pace. "And of all the bots, it had to be that pit-slagged femme who blocked my way!"

Arcee? You're not too familiar with the Autobots, but you remember Starscream had literally shrieked himself into stasis after a particular battle with the Autobots over an energon mine, where a certain pink femme had foiled his plans at the very last nanoklik.

Wait. Arcee had blocked his way? You stare blankly at him as it sinks in that the commotion you heard earlier... was in fact Starscream singlehandedly blasting his way through the Autobot base to save you.

"Oh," You say.

"Oh?" Starscream screeches, wings twitching furiously. "Oh? That's all you have to say for yourself?"

You still can't bring yourself to speak as you gaze up at him. And slowly, a smile splits your faceplate. You can't help it. You smile big and bright up at your commander. "What?" He demands shrilly. "What is it?" He does falter, rage dropping momentarily from his faceplate and muting into confusion when you start to laugh. Relief, adrenaline, admiration, all at once.

"It was worth it." You gasp, through your fit on the ground. All this was worth it for Starscream, who'd against all better judgement risked his own helm to come looking for you, because he was worried. You'd carefully filed away every detail of Ratchet's instruction this afternoon. With the knowledge he'd bestowed upon you and extra bandages in your subspace, the gamble had paid off, because the chances of you preserving Starscream's spark had skyrocketed if the worst came to pass.

Starscream just stares at you, a hysterically giggling heap on the ground. "It was worth it!" You shriek, because Starscream is the one who found you and for now, you are safe.

You finally come back to yourself after a few cycles of wheezing almost soundlessly in your relief. You're sure there's coolant smeared over your faceplates and you look like a mess, but you don't give a frag - not when your stupid plan actually came to something. "Sir," You sigh to Starscream, who's still frozen above you, optics tracking your faceplate as you finally simmer down. "I'm going to have the best recharge of anybody today."

Unexpectedly, this douses Starscream's anger. He studies you carefully for a nanoklik. You take this rare moment to shamelessly drink in his handsome features - the sharp, defined ridges of his cheeks, the brightness of his optics, and the disapprovingly flattened line of his intake (okay, but still). Did he think that the nightmares, the war had finally broken your processor? It had happened to a few of the Decepticons. That would explain the flicker of worry in his optics - but he seems to find what he's looking for in your faceplate, so he simply sighs, all of a sudden looking more tired than you've seen him. He extends a servo to you.

"Get up."

You gingerly put your servo in his much larger one, feel his fingers close around yours as he pulls you up with much more gentleness than you're sure you deserve.

"I won't ask," Starscream begins. His optics flash. "But I will find out sooner or later."

You nod, trying for serious, but you must still have vestiges of a smile on your faceplate. Starscream stares at you and plants his hands on his hips.

"And don't think this will go unpunished. You think sneaking out is funny? Not when I'm through with you. You'll have done so many circuits of the 16-point roll that your wings will have dropped off by then. Sneaking off? Primus help you if it happens again. You think I'm coming to drag your sorry aft back home? Hah!"

I mean. He would come for you, but you wisely keep this to yourself as he gesticulates wildly to prove his point, even if both of you know it's more for show than anything.

Finally, he finishes his tirade with a huff. "It's dark," He says shortly, and glances at you. In the dark, his optics cast a soft glow on your faceplate.

"Eugh. Primus, wipe that stuff off your faceplate or it'll stain." Two large, servos come down either side of your helm, and you can't help but flinch as Starscream swipes his thumbs over your cheeks to clean the coolant off. Still admonishing you, but his voice is forgiving and wraps around you like a warm blanket. "Stop squirming."

Finally, your faceplate relatively un-smudged, Starscream breaks apart from you. You try to soak in this moment as long as possible, wishing it could always be like this. Just the two of you, under a sky full of stars. This planet's view of the solar system could really be beautiful. You glance back to find Starscream looking at you, also looking reluctant to leave. However, he has to play the bad guy. He always does.

"Come on," He says, but it's gentle. "Let's go."

Previous

[ssentimentals]

Hiii, I don’t really have a prompt that’d I’d like to request, but could I get something with scoups & reader that is scared of bad weather (tornado type weather & such—speaking from experience 🥲)?

I love your writing so much & love reading all your small prompts :)

hiii! tbh i always wanted people to come up here with their own requests, but that never reallly happened as most prefer to pick from already formulated prompts, so you have no idea how happy you made me with this message! 💜thank you for your kind words as well :')

seungcheol + bad weather

when you get a notification on your phone about the upcoming storm, dread settles uncomfortably in your chest. makes it hard to breathe, squeezing your lungs painfully with growing anxiety. clutching your bag, you look up at the sky, noticing how light blue sky slowly starts turning grey. your phone buzzes and you sigh in relief, seeing seungcheol's photo on your screen.

“i got the storm notification,” your boyfriend says instead of greeting. “i’m taking rest of the day off, will work from home. where are you, baby?”

“got the groceries, going home now.” you wince at the way wind picks up. “i’m gonna-“

“can you go inside and wait for me to pick you up?”seungcheol interrupts.

warmth pools at the the pit of your stomach. seungcheol has no problems with any weather conditions, he has no anxiety or panic attacks, doesn't flinch at thundreclaps - it's all you. since he learned this about you, it never fails to make your heart squeeze with affection how he always goes out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety during these moments. “it's a ten minute walk,” you say, shaking your head. “i'll go on my own. be careful, yeah? drive safe.”

“i'll be back home very soon, angel.” seungcheol assures you.

before seungcheol no one ever made you feel so seen regarding this issue. you know that he's going to probably break some rules on his way back home just to get quicker to you and it's enough to make you rush home as well, ignoring the way wind picks up. force of nature is terrifying, especially when you know how devastating it can be; you quickly turn on the lights and shut the curtains as soon as you're inside. with years came not only age but wisdom: you learned how to deal with your fear. any kinds of distractions work the best and until your boyfriend arrives, you busy yourself with the groceries, preparing easy salad just to keep your hands busy.

seungcheol arrives with a loud bang and even louder: “baby, where are you?”. his big eyes are on you the second you appear in the hallway and wide smile spreads on his face: “hi, love.”

you grin, coming up to greet him. “hey, cheollie. thanks for coming over.”

“don't mention it.” seungcheol waves it off like it's not a big deal, when it actually is. he has no idea how much the fact that he took his job home the second he saw storm notification means to you. “you got the groceries?”

it's very domestic for next twenty minutes; seungcheol changes and you two enjoy the salad and tea, when another notification about a possibility of this storm turning into a tornado pops up. it makes your breath hitch, but seungcheol's warm hand on top of yours keeps you grounded. “let’s go to bed, yeah?” he suggests. “we can watch something.”

“but your work?” you ask, frowning. you took this week fully off and didn't have to worry about missing any important meetings. “it’s okay, really, we can-“

“don't worry about it.” seungcheol presses, taking your hand and forcing you to stand up. he hugs you tight, leaving small kiss on your forehead. “i just need you all cuddled up to me, my work can wait, okay? let's clean this up and go upstairs.”

you have no idea how seungcheol knows exactly what to do or say in moments like this. his touch is never too much, his words are never harsh, his gaze is always understanding and not pitying. when first thunder rolls in, he already has you two laying on the bed, covered from head to toe. first thunderclap echoes int he distance at first and then silences you both at the full volume. the sound makes you flinch as you've been slapped - you barely manage to conceal your whine, burying deeper int he comfort of the weighted blanket.

“it's okay, love, it's okay.” seungcheol soothingly rubs your back, pulling you even closer. “i’m here, yeah? do you want headphones?”

headphones help immensely but you were always shy about them at first; it always seemed to be so rude to just put headphones on when another person is around. seungcheol assured you from the start that he has no problems with it, but you always hesitate.

“hey,” he leans in, making sure that you make eye contact. “you come first, remember? you and you well-being always come first. let me get you those headphones.”

you can hear wind whistling outside like it's out there to get you and your heart rate picks up with dread settling as a heavy weight on your shoulders. it’s incredibly frustrating - you wish you never had this fear, wish it didn’t affect you the way it does. at the sound of yet another thunderclap, you squeeze your eyes shut and shiver, wanting to disappear. only when warm body settles next to you and headphones are placed gently on your head, only then you uncurl from your position and open your eyes. seungcheol is watching you with furrowed eyebrows, worry evident in his gaze. he caresses your face lovingly and points at the headphones, handing you your phone. “music,” he says. his thumb brushes below your eyes and he sighs. “i’m here, baby. just listen to the music, yeah?”

you nod. shuffling to cuddle closer, you whisper: “go ahead and work, cheol. it’s alright, i’ll listen to the music anyways.”

“you sure?” seungcheol asks and when you nod, he leans in to leave a sweet kiss on your cheek. “okay. but if it gets worse or you’ll need something, just let me know, okay?”

it’s so, so sweet. the way he angles his body so it’s be easier for you to lay down, how he wraps one arm around you securely and pulls you in, how he ocassionally leaves kisses on top of your head while he works. the safe space he creates for you lets you zone out, steady your breathing. you still flinch at the sounds but fear is not that strong when seungcheol is close to remind you that he is here for you. after some time he puts away his laptop and lets you flop on top of him, covering you two with a blanket.

“i quite like this, actually,” he comments, smiling.

“which part? me crushing you with my weight or me having a stupid fear?” you ask, aiming for a joke but falling flat.

“the part where we get to cuddle and i let you know that no fear is stupid and that holding you makes me incredibly happy.” he looks at you, eyes full of tenderness. “i’m happy to be here, right now. happy that you’re letting me do this.”

your throat feels too tight. before you can say something stupid like “i love you” and confess first, seungcheol adds: “can we do this more often?”

you don’t trust you voice not to crack if you speak, so you nod. seungcheol beams at this and leans in to kiss you. “awesome. now let’s nap for a bit.”

napping is definitely easier than admitting your feelings or facing the raging storm outside. you nod again and close your eyes, breathing in. you’re fast asleep in seconds and don’t feel small kiss on top of your head or quiet “i love you” spoken in the secrecy of the night.

a/n: so. if it wasn't very obvious, i know zero about storms/tornados so i'm sorry if this ended up being very unrealistic. hopefully you liked it :/ - nini

you can find my other writings for seventeen HERE

[theflopwonder]

I THINK ABOUT THIS ALLL OF THE TIMEEEEEEEE.

(also teehee i will be using this as an excuse to discuss what realistic racial dynamics in Gotham would look like bc I am a black new jersyian, which isn’t the point of this post but it activated my ranting chip, and is going to mirror a lot of what op says)

The thing that a lot of comic writers like to skimp over, unless it's to perpetuate harmful stereotypes, is that disenfranchised neighborhoods, particularly in the inner city, where Batman's work is initially concentrated, especially in the early years, are usually overwhelmingly populated by black and brown people. Historically, for black people specifically, this is because of a Great Migration period during Jim Crow where black folks would come up to the more industrialized north for increased job opportunities and less racism. This is why Newark, NJ has such a high African-American population to this day, it was one of the hotspots.

As a black person who has lived in both NJ suburbs and its inner cities, inner city gothamites would not like Batman for a long ass time, if at all. Why? A lot of comics will focus on Batman stopping a drug deal or a gang member, but do nothing to address the socioeconomic conditions, or demonstrate cultural competency in portraying these neighborhoods' relationship to drug dealing, drug addicts, gang affiliation, and organization, which is often very morally complex, and SURE AS HELL doesn't consider their relationships to police forces or assumes that the power dynamic is shifted in favor of the black and brown inner-city neighborhoods, rendering the cops useless and letting crime prevail which is even WORSE and just blatantly untrue.

OR They just take on a paternalistic view of "these neighborhoods and the people in them need to be saved from themselves". So they have this white man swoop in and save the day and everybody in the neighborhood is just supposed to love him, while the uptight politicians are the ones who have the criticism so you, as the viewer, will already have the seeds of hate planted so you feel vindicated when they are revealed as corrupt and THAT'S the real reason they hate Batman.

In the beginning, Batman will be seen as someone who contributes to the prison industrial complex. He is not helping the citizens of Gotham, he is just a cop. He is a symbol of another white man wreaking havoc on a predominately black neighborhood, and the police won't do anything to stop him. This will even be exacerbated by him beginning to work with the police. If Batman wants to be looked upon fondly by the people he is supposedly helping, he's going to have to acknowledge the racial divide between uptown and downtown Gothamites. He is going to have to WORK for his respect and understand the reasons why he, as Batman, may never get it

(my headcannon is that No Man's Land is when the perspectives of BOTH Bruce Wayne and Batman's reputations turned into net positives. For Bruce it was going to Congress and being the only one to fight directly for them, [as one of the major points of NML was how unfair it was to poor people]. For Batman, it's that when he couldn't get the kids left in NML out of the city, he stayed and protected them anyway. He didn't just go running off like everybody else [even tho he technically did, but y'know, they don't know that), and leave them stranded and alone? That's worthy of respect to them.)

Now if I was too apply ALL OF THIS to Red Hood ... the one shred of hope of black and brown citizens of Gotham would have is that Batman does not use lethal force. He will ruff up our people, break an arm or a leg or a nose, but he will not gun them down. He will not use lethal force. They will not lose their lives. He will let them see another day. And if they see another day, then they have the possibility to do better, and THAT is where Batman and the people of Gotham's hood will be able to find common ground and coexist with each other.

That is completely gone when Red Hood enters the scene.

No, people in the Gotham's hood would not like Red Hood, he would just make things worse. Way worse. He would be the actuality of what everyone feared about Batman. He would ruin a decade's worth of work that Batman put in trying to fix his reputation within these neighborhoods.

You only understand that when you understand black and brown people's relationship with law enforcement.

They will mistake black and brown mothers telling their children to be inside before the streetlights come on as "lower crime rates" and would they be correct? On the surface, sure. But it wouldn't be because of anything productive, it would be because you have successfully scared an entire neighborhood into complacency. You've essentially put them under unofficial marital law dictated by a myth and justified it by saying "Well Batman only scares people who need to be scared,"

(They do this in Batman v Superman, very blatantly, and with a Black woman saying it verbatim, and it's ... it's an interesting choice, I go back and forth on how I feel about it considering the timeline conditions but for now I digress).

I'd even go as far as to argue that the ONLY people who would like Batman as a concept from jump are non-black people in the suburbs. Batman is the type of idea that allows white people to have a conscious spa day, to offer up a simple solution to a complex problem so they don't have to do any deeper thinking about it. He is the whitest of the white savior concepts. Oh he's getting those drug dealers off the street? Thank god, they'll keep that fentanyl away from our promising young and precious suburban kids.

However, once Bruce Wayne began announcing all of these initiatives to help poor people, despite this being the thing that would be what make the crime rates go down and stay down, it also resulted in black and brown people ascending in socioeconomic status oh..... now those kids from the hood are going to be moving into our good schools.... they're going to corrupt our children and expose them to guns and drugs and gangs OH NO! NOT MY GOTHAM!

Semi-Anecdotally and Semi-Historically: This happens a lot in NJ & NY. Speaking for NJ, this happens a lot with kids in inner cities like Newark, who will move downwards to places like Plainfield, and then Plainfield becomes essentially segregated in everything but schools, and people will worry that those "Newark Gangsters" will corrupt their kids, so they move them down further into suburbia to like ... Edison, or Piscataway, where high housing is enough to keep people out. Then they begin defunding Plainfield schools, and stationing Plainfield cops in black parts of town until they decide to gentrify the neighborhood again.

(This is also why you shouldn't listen to people who question why people still live in Gotham. At one point, Camden was one of the most dangerous cities in the world. It is also a college town. Newark is still not a very safe place to live. It is ALSO technically a college town)

Canon-Wise, let's look at Robin issues 25 & 26 (my detested) where a storyline about bringing guns to school has one of Tim's classmates say this verbatim.

He ends up losing his life to a black student via gunshot. It’s framed as ambiguous but to me there’s an obvious reason why this escalated LMFAO don't put your hands on people in a school hallway.

Despite the fact that both kids pull out a gun at the exact same time, and shoot the exact same amount of bullets, who do you think gets more sympathy from both Tim and from the narrative altogether?

Whose motives are positioned as higher in moral value?

Who’s motives are ever even considered?

Who is Tim allowed to lecture gently, vs who is he and Bruce allowed to hunt down, scare, and capture?

This story is allowed to have emotional weight for Tim because he knows Karl. It deliberately attempts to make the reader lose sympathy for Young El because they attach him to a gang.

Batman does make a point to mention that it just easily could’ve been Young-El that died, but it only positions Karl as the only who “doesn’t understand his choice”. They’re the same age. Both high school students. Could it not also be argued that Young El’s situation is worse because he is being exploited by a gang, that is also taking advantage of the fact that he does not fully comprehend the choices that he makes? Or does that only apply to poor former bully jock Karl Ranck.

Let’s also unpack that subtle but glaring racism.

1. The immediate assumption that Young-El will re-offend is racist. Although Tim says it directly, Bruce also indirectly agrees, (conditionally to prop up the "usefulness" of Batman). Was Young El the first person to say it? Sure, but that's just more racism being perpetuated by the narrative because it's not being done to try to make the reader understand black and brown people's relationship to the incarceration system and why recidivism commonly happens, it's meant to portray Young El as a mouthy kid resisting arrest for a crime he committed.

It offers no sympathy towards him even though he is just as much a pawn in the city’s corruption as any other child that falls into a gang. If anything this should be more incentive to y’know … make sure he has help upon release but hey what do I know?

2. This moment, specifically:

If we are analyzing this keeping in mind that Young El does not know who Robin is, but can fully hear this statement being made towards him, ABOUT HIM, in this context that means this can now be considered a VERY racist micro-aggression being aimed towards him. To even hit on the point of each citizen preferring a different vigilante, this is now a reason that Robin's reputation is in the negatives. If I can't count on you to arrest me without being subjected to what can easily be taken as a racial microaggression (because again, he doesn't know who Tim is, or his relationship to this crime and it is unrealistic to expect him to, all he knows is that this white kid is arresting him and telling him that he's essentially too stupid to understand him, which is reinforcing a racial power dynamic) there is now nothing separating you from a regular degular cop.

3. The idea that the fear of seeing Batman will be enough for Young El to not re-offend is racism. That’s not hope for someone's future, that's a form of oppression and is AGAIN fueled by the narrative’s refusal to extend any sympathy to Young El. Telling black and brown citizens that "beyond the law and the courts" (that have historically tried to eradicate us btw) there is …. More fear? More reason to be afraid of the world? And then you wanna end the comic talking about some damn PEACE?????? PEACE FOR WHO???????

Also Bruce’s smile in that panel about scaring Young El … that’s amusing to you? Scaring high school kids that you’re supposed to help? That’s how you want Batman to be “useful”? High school children being exploited by gangs are the people that are supposed to be afraid of the Batman? Oh that’s not… anyway.

In the panel before that one, THEY'RE STILL pointing guns at Young El and the gang, despite the fact that if they are being detained they have already been frisked and had their weapons taken away already.

Sure you can argue that this is less a Batman problem and more reflection of how this actually happens in real life, but idk if I’m writing a story where a deliberate point is made that my protagonists don’t use lethal force … but then they disappear on top of a building and watch as these children and adult gang members are submitting under the threat of lethal force, despite having no weapons no drugs and no way of escape …. you see the problem here?

Hate this mini-arc sooooooo bad. even tho I do think about it a lot when thinking about Tim's relationship with school violence. it's a watershed moment for him and so important to his development, but it's also racist as fuck.

I SAY ALL OF THIS TO SAY. There's a lot of this bullshit that basked into comics, hell, into Batman's very conception that makes it easy to fly over people's heads. I'm sympathetic to it, I first read Robin when I was 15. A LOT of shit was flying over my head. But I do encourage you all to approach these stories with a more critical eye, as they can and do help deepen your understanding of these characters.

And let’s be honest— modern ideas of crime are intrinsically tied to American racial ideologies (the modern American inception of cops is deliberately based on slave catchers). Without considering that nuance, Batman (and definitely Red Hood) can very quickly become another layer of fear and control rather than people who are truly trying to help these neighborhoods thrive.

I know we tend to roll our eyes at "Batman beats up poor people and mentally ill!!!" takes cuz most of the time they're ridiculous and said by people who do not interact with canon but like ... the idea that one person's savior is another person's boogieman is very true, and NOT ALWAYS GOOD, especially if we are considering the usefulness of an american Batman, who is not exempt from american racial dynamics, which very obviously exist in his fictional Gotham, even if subtextually through speech, through drawing, through panel sequencing, etc. Batman is a fantasy, but his lasting power as a character is fundamentally dependent on how well of a reflection he is of real life, and THIS would be the real-life makeup of a real-life Gotham City. I spend a lot of this post critiquing, but I still love these characters, and it's because I love them, that these dynamics are so interesting to explore.

Anyway rant over, I probably did a shit job at convincing y'all but if you made it to the end of this long-ass post, YES PLEASE. EVERYBODY, PLEASE READ CANON.

You know what I've realized these past several months on Tumblr and just...years of consuming content?

It's pretty rare for the fandom to acknowledge Gotham as a city. A real, living city with people in it. Like, sure we always get cutesy posts about Batman or the others from outside perspectives or fics that include interesting ocs (I love u if you do that btw).

But what I mean isn't that. What I mean is: does anyone think of Gotham and its citizens as actual people? Because I've sure seen kind of the opposite.

I see constant arguments or heavily biased (mostly misinformed) posts regarding what Bruce does and how the Batman helps the city. That his riches would get lost in corruption and no one can save the city unless there's violence. You could try and make the argument, sure. But we've seen time and time again in comics that Bruce uses his money to the benefit of the city. We've seen in comics that he employs people who are disadvantaged and gives them opportunities. People know Bruce Wayne gives jobs and treats his employees well. He donates heavily to charities, creates his own organizations, funds Leslie Thompkin's clinic, and consistently updates the safety of his own buildings. People (at least post-Crisis) would know that Bruce Wayne did everything he could to save Gotham after the Cataclysm earthquake/No Man's Land - that he went up against Congress. Of course, not everyone would like Batman. Not everyone would trust the Wayne name. They'd see a stranger who prowls nightly and may or may not rescue you. They'd see the privilege of an old rich name who gets to exert his influence over the city. If you go to him for help, you go to him with the fear, and anticipation of rejection or with the knowledge that he will be safe.

I've also seen the (imo) ridiculous notion that Crime Alley citizens would trust the Red Hood. Maybe some would now, after the reboots and actual comic book evidence that he's doing something. But I cannot fathom living in a city with such heavy crimes occurring and then trusting what is essentially a cop. People don't know the Red Hood. They don't know Jason Todd. They would only know: 1. he has tried and succeeded various times to take over organized crime and drug routes 2. he can and will kill if he sees it fit. In some people's eyes, he would be a cop with even less judicial oversight. In some families, he would be the killer of their breadwinner, of their fathers or family members or lovers. A man with a gun. Eyes without a face. If you go to him for help, you go to him for blood.

This doesn't even begin to lay out the insane amount of vigilantes who live/operate in Gotham. The Batman is not the only figure. The Red Hood is not the only figure. If you boil down Gotham to only the conflict between these two characters, you miss the nuances and varied opinions of the city by miles. If you boil down Gotham to just Batman-affiliates, you miss even more.

For every person who doesn't trust Batman, there's someone who'd prefer Huntress. For every child who lives in fear but can't trust an adult, there's Robin or Batgirl. For an abused woman, there's other women out there who help: Catwoman or Black Canary or Holly Robinson. There's people who'd never trust a vigilante but want safety, they'd have Leslie Thompkins (who operates in Crime Alley) or Lucius Fox who could give them a job.

Not to mention, Batman is very obviously white. There would be some people who would rightfully mistrust white men, and would prefer figures like Orpheus or Onyx or Batwing or the Signal or Huntress (post-N52). There's the Creeper, who would be terrifying but some might prefer the monster over the man. There's Ragman, an explicitly Jewish vigilante who was literally called the Tatterdemalion of the Oppressed and trusted by the poor and homeless. There's Batwoman, Mother Panic, Spoiler, Nightwing, Red Robin, Azrael, Bluebird, the enigmatic idea of the Oracle, Anarky, Ghostmaker, Gotham Girl/Boy, Catman, Alan Scott-Green Lantern, Wildcat.

Hell, maybe someone who lives in Gotham would just straight up trust Superman or the Flash or Wonder Woman more than anyone else. Maybe they'd never once trust someone acting for a perceived view of justice and would just trust an employer like Two-Face or the Riddler or any mobster.

I'm stressing my point here: when you write anyone who lives in Gotham City, keep in mind that they don't know they live in a comic book world. Secret identities are foreign to them, they only know the base actions of each vigilante. Each person's opinion will heavily vary. Every experience colors their view of the city and vigilantes as a whole. Just, idk, widen your horizons and consider about what someone living in a place like Gotham would really think.

To that end, read the comics!!! Research actual cities!!! Take in experiences and history!!! It's all interesting and just adds so much more.

You want one comic that shows Bruce helping Gotham and the various views of Gothamites, read Gotham Knights #32, published in 2002 and titled "24/7." Read it online illegally if you have to!!

[lotus-slumbers]

Introduction to Platonic Yandere! Superman...? [New Character for Request Unlocked: Yandere! Superman]

There's such a thing as hypocrisy, in the way that police officers will turn a blind eye to their peers' brutality and the way political officials will see the money being handed off underneath tables and turn a blind eye. Protector's turned abusers and servants turned benefactors. The world's corruption runs deep and even those who hold themselves to the highest regard are not exempt from the poison of it. It's just too intoxicating.

— Yandere! Batfam is NOT exempt from this cruel law of nature, no matter how hard they try not to stray from the path of the good and righteous. They crack underneath the pressure of their obsession with you, feed off of each other's own delusions, and unanimously agree that this is true and right, even if society sees it as wrong.

— Yandere! Batfam is good at evading an audience. If they don't want to be seen, they won't be. It's as simple as that. Their power and fame are to be used by them, for their goals, not the prying eye and gossiping tongues of the media.

— Yandere! Batfam doesn't lose a wink of sleep at night about your safety within the manor or how the world may view the situation at hand— how closely it could be misunderstood as a kidnapping, ruining their lives and risking Gotham's safety.

— Yandere! Batfam is secure, just as safe as the massive manor they keep you locked up in. It would take something, someone truly unstoppable to break through their defenses.

— Superman makes quick work of it on an odd Sunday afternoon when he finds you trying to shimmy the lock to the Batcave. He stands behind you for a second, watching the thin hairclip do a sorry job, bending and twisting, while he's trying to recount all of the kids Bruce had taken in over the years.

— Superman even puts a hand up, counting out on his hands. Since when was there another? Was there another? He'd never seen you out on patrol with the Bat and he seemed to love endangering orphans.

— Superman, too caught up in his own thoughts, forgets to even lower himself to the ground like a human would. Instead, he hovers there, a massive form even more imposing when you turn and see him. Would it have been worse for Bruce to find you or Superman?!

— "Couldn't bother to Youtube this beforehand?" There is a small grin on his face. He wouldn't be threatened by such a little thing, especially when you look so scared yourself.

— Superman believes you when you scramble to explain your situation, clinging desperately to him like he was a lifeline. Your hero— he likes the sound of that. Except Superman doesn't believe you completely. At first, he thinks there might be something wrong with you.

— Superman leads you to sit, nodding and patting your shoulder as his eyes rove over you. He's searching, ruling out as much as he can. You don't seem intoxicated, you don't seem like you've sustained a head injury...

— Superman isn't a spy. Or, at least he isn't most of the time. He broke into the Wayne Manor in search of Batman and had made no effort to be subtle about it. The alarms had been set off; his great accomplishment was getting inside in the first place.

— Yandere! Batfam was alerted the moment it happened, each one getting the highest-graded emergency alert for the otherwise silent alarm in the manor. They nearly lose themselves in a panic.

— Superman can only start to make sense of the situation when he's looking down the barrel of a shotgun. Alfred Pennyworth, armed and ready, gives him the kindest and most cordial of smiles as he lowers the gun and makes a quip about using the front door. Alfred is as lethal as a neurotoxin, inducing fatal type paralysis. So few can escape his charm, being lulled into a sense of security and trust.

— Yandere! Batfam nearly breaks the door down when they get there, Bruce and one of his heathens, armed and pointing a katana, followed by another and then two more. It's a mess, really. Once one puts their guard down, realizing who it is, another one comes in ready to kick some ass. Eventually, it all settles but the small one with a katana never lowers his blade >:))

— It doesn't take Superman long to figure out just how pissed off Yandere! Batfam is, especially Yandere! Bruce Wayne. Even with his weapons put back away, he looks like he would half the mind to jump him. But, behind that normal annoyance and passive-aggressive remarks Clark is used to getting from Batman, there's something else. For the first time in his life, Superman thinks he sees Batman anxious. 

—  Superman is scolded. Dick Grayson pulls you from underneath his grasp and his wing instead. This is your only chance, though, God be damned the repercussions you'll suffer later if it doesn't work. You struggle, you cry. "They've kidnapped me!" An awkward tension fills the room. Tim avoided eye contact, Jason stone-faced and glaring alongside Damian, just daring him to try something. Dick joins Alfred in a smile, loudly laughing like the whole thing is a joke. 

— Superman makes perfect sense of the situation when Bruce tells him with a genuinely heartbroken look that you're "not well" and "can't understand what's going on." Clark and Bruce may have their differences and fallingouts from time to time, but there's hardly anyone else he knows he can trust and count on. Hardly anyone else he can say is, genuinely, a good man. 

— Seeing you cry like that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, lowering himself down a little and softening his voice to apologize to you. When you don't answer him, now defeated and grieving your failed attempt in the safety of Dick's embrace, it feels worst than a gut punch for Superman. He caused this, he thinks. Bruce only reinforces this guilt when he tells him that they should head somewhere else and talk, ordering the rest of Yandere! Batfam to take care of you and bring you back upstairs to get some rest. 

— So, Superman finds himself in the Batcave, relaying important information and threats back to Batman, distracted by the thought of you. He's no good at hiding it, either. Your tears had gotten to him.

— Good, Yandere! Bruce Wayne thinks. Superman has been convinced. 

— But... doubt and anxiety still lay underneath his stoic expression. When the topic comes back around to you, right in the middle of Yandere! Bruce Wayne trying to usher him back out the door again, he has to humor him and lay it on him thick because if there's anyone in the world who stood a chance at taking his precious child away from him, it would be the man of steel. 

— So, when the Man of Steel insists that he should come back in a week to check on you, to ease his mind (and doubts), Yandere! Bruce Wayne has no choice but to agree and to thank him for wanting to help. It would just be all the more suspicious if he denied him. 

— Yandere! Superman does just that exactly a week later to the day and hour, having not stopped thinking about you the whole time he was away...

[princesssarahblog]

𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

SFW and NSFW

warnin: alcohol, weed, adventure, sex (first sex too) and romance

author notes: I am writing for the first time smut.. I want to write something like this with many more characters obx, next one might be rafe (idk)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SFW

get ready for this naughty blonde diva to come to your house almost every day, at first you thought he just had nothing to do but over time you realized that your house is a new refuge for him, where he can relax and be away from his tyrant father

he is quite clingy to you (only you) jj will hug you almost constantly or especially kiss you. if you both have to be separated, he will grab you by the waist with his strong muscular arm and pull you in for a gentle passionate kiss. before the relationship, he would touch you often and try to touch you subtly to feel your skin.

we all know that jj is also a bit of a wild guy, and he might make bold and spontaneous decisions and you constantly dissuade him from his "brilliant ideas" and advise him to think logically together. but it would be better for you to make a decision yourself, and jj would help you implement it

lets you braid and style his hair when his head is on your lap or stomach, you’ll do little tiny braids or buns all over his head and he’ll love the giggles it brings out of you.

I think he's one of those guys who will sing some stupid songs he made up on the fly if you get offended by him. you start laughing at those moments, and you just shut him up, saying you forgave him, just so you doesn't have to listen anymore.

he's the kind of boyfriend who would go to great lengths to make you happy and will always be there for you when you need him. just be ready for a lot of playful banter and sarcastic remarks, this is just another display of affection from jj

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ NSFW

lots of quick rounds, this blond guy is constantly horny and needs sex urgently. he often gets horny at the wrong time and can take you away right in the middle of a conversation with friends without embarrassment

he likes it when you just turn into a puddle and can't say anything

he drives you crazy in bed, jj is just unrelenting. he needs to fill you with his cum at least 3 times. and he also loves when you hold on to his chest. he basically likes your touching his chest

you both remember your first time having sex very well. it was at your place, you were sweating and your pussy was on jj's thigh when you first saw his dick. and the guy often reminds you of it, teasing you and making you embarrassed

actually he comes to your house not only to hide from the world but also to have a good night with you. you are always afraid if your parents find out about it, your father often checks on you at night and once you almost got caught but everything worked out

will stimulate your sweet spot very strongly using your fingers, mouth and tongue. jj pulls you back in by your ankles when you try to squirm away from him, whining that you're too sensitive, you can't take anymore. it's too much

even during the solstice festival he somehow ended up having sex with you. he found you in the great hall after he escaped from rafe and you locked you in the closet. he showered you with kisses and told you how beautiful you were in the dress you wore for the festival. it was only because of you that rafe lost him and after that you and your group of friends left. and jj got to enjoy you and his favorite sweet spot.

asks you to sit on his face so he can eat your pussy!

jj intertwines your fingers together while you're riding his face cause he like that, murmuring how much he loves you, how perfect you are, how you're such a good girl for him. he also loves to squeeze your breasts and nipples in this position and naturally drive you crazy

- jj is the kind of person that will be hard to just start dating. In order to date him, you need to gain his complete trust in you. he is very protective and devoted, but all this can also quickly disappear. even if you date him, you will date him for a maximum of a week and blonde guy will dump you and you will be another girl for his own entertainment

[letsgoletsgetit08]

ateez unholy hours - kinks

some kinks I could see ateez members having.

warnings: MDNI!, mentions of freakteez idk, kinks

author's note: I'm quite literally running a fever right now and this is where my brain went. I have two psych degrees and this is what I'm using them for. If you're offended by any of this, I guess scroll on, it's not even serious.

word count: 700ish

hongjoong: somnophilia. hear me out, the man keeps weird hours. you're not guaranteed to be awake when he gets home. he's hesitant at first, but you've had a long discussion about it, and he starts to be brave and explore it, he's SO hooked. watching your face scrunch up in the dim light at his first touches, only for it to turn to gasps of pleasure as you wake up to him pushing inside you. it's 3am on a tuesday and neither of you could care less.

seonghwa: finacial domination. look, the guy has money, there's no denying that. but the idea of you telling him how he can spend it? it fucks with his brain in the best ways. oh, he wants that new lego set? he better be good for you all week and prove he deserves it. when he spends within his means of the allowance you give him and you reward him for it? his brain short circuits. he hopes he forgets what bank he uses, he never wants to think about being in control of his account again.

yunho: size kink this, breeding kink that. i hear you and i agree HOWEVER, that man is eating your ass. sorry. he just is. the man is captain of freakteez and he's the king of oral fixation. he's obsessed with finding different ways to get you off, and his sexual appetite knows no bounds. he's not mingi, he's not afraid of getting his hands dirty (metaphorically). you might be worried about it being unsanitary at first, but once he gets you in the shower and helps you wash - everywhere - you feel much better about it. and let me tell you, you won't regret it.

yeosang: ear fetish. i read a fic (shout out to op) about this, forgot what the specific -philia is called and I really don't want to fumble around on google to find it, but all i can say is yes. yeosang is an odd duck but also a rule follower, which leads me to believe he's very curious about the taboo, but not something so taboo that would be risky or anything. he just wants to lick your ears a little. let him. just look at him and tell me you wouldn't let him do it.

san: he wants to fuck your titties. hear me out, he has smallish hands already, which means that even if you're rocking some a cups, they would feel sizeable in his hands. hell, his tits might even be bigger than yours. doesn't matter. he's squeezing and torturing (pos) yours any chance he gets. something about this whiny pouty water sign man begging you let him do it because he's so curious just. ugh. yeah.

mingi: chastity. mingi is sooooo subby, especially for the right person and for that person (pick me!) he would be so eager to please and to prove that he could be good. he's constantly poking our eyes out with that thang on stage, as well as touching it subconciously any chance he gets. can you imagine, locking him up for all of tour? his whiny phone calls. teasing him. how desperate and needy he'd be for you when he finally got home and you could give him some relief.

wooyoung: body hair. i stand by him being a lowkey furry and you know what, whatever that man wants, tbh. i just think the first time you stopped shaving for the winter, it would unlock a whole different side of him. he wouldn't be able to stop touching your newly fuzzy legs and he'd bury his pretty nose in your softy, downy armpits. he'd finally show you the cat ears he's been wanting to wear while he fucks you. meow meow.

jongho: this mischievous little shit sweetheart wants to push the limits on what he can get away with as far as fucking you in public goes. fingers between your thighs at the restaurant, fucking you on a balcony at a hotel, on the tour bus, plane bathroom, green room on set for music video shoot, car sex, you name it, he's trying. the two of you are always reappearing after being mysteriously gone for too long to be innocent, clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed, matching shit eating grins poorly concealed on your faces.

[jetblack4realz]

damn bars - yellowstone boys

how the yellowstone boys react to you getting hit on at the bar

kayce, rip, ryan, carter

word count total: 3.9k

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

kayce dutton:

you had gone out to the bar for one reason and one reason only: to dance.

you and kayce loved to dance, but you didn't get many opportunities to. so, when one night john took tate for a sleepover, winking at you as he pulled the boy away, you decided to get out there and swing away like you were teenagers again. you grabbed beth and rip to come too, knowing they'd appreciate getting out even if they didn't dance - would rip ever dance? probably not.

it was fun for the first little bit, all the good swing songs playing as he twirled you around the wooden dance floor. you pulled out old tricks he forgot you knew and he twisted and flipped you into cool routines you forgot he knew. when you decided to take a break, kayce heading to the bathroom while you ordered a drink, you just knew something was going to happen.

but, you ordered anyways, eyes on where beth was shaking her ass away to the fun country music playing and where rip was watching her with the fondest smile you'd ever seen from him.

the bartender slid you your drink. you smiled. "thank you."

he nodded at you, walking down the bar to attend to another customer as you leaned your back against the counter, eyes back to your sister-in-law.

"you've really been busting a move out there."

you turned to see a man, taller than you but definitely shorter than kayce, bigger, with a brown hat and black boots. he wasn't necessarily attractive and there was just something about him that made you want to scrunch your nose, so you did.

"yep," you hummed, sipping on your whiskey.

"you've only had the one partner. i'm sure i could show you some moves if you're looking for a new one," he said, glancing to the side as a smile pulled up one side of his mouth. "i don't see him here anymore."

"he'll be back," you told him, setting your drink down and looking him over again. "and even if i was looking for another partner, you don't look like much of a dancer, buddy."

he knitted his brows at that, looking down at you with a curious smirk on his lips. "spicy. i like that."

you wanted to throw up.

"don't call me that," you said. "that was gross."

"oh come on, darling," he said, shifting so he was more in your view. "just one dance? he'll never even know, he ain't here."

"he is." you held up your ring finger, flashing the rock that was your wedding band at him. "i ain't going with you buddy."

and that was when he grabbed you, hand on your hip as he pulled you into him. he smelled like bad beer, cheap cologne, and straight b.o. you instantly pushed away even as he held you tighter, speaking now: "one dance, baby. life is too short to only dance with one man the rest of it."

"life's too short to dance with ugly men," you retorted, scrunching your nose again as you finally, very forcefully pushed him away from you, backing towards where you knew rip was last standing. except he wasn't there.

you looked at the dance floor and your mind was blown. of course the one time rip wheeler decides to take to the dance floor was when you were actively being harassed at the bar.

the guy didn't like your answer and stepped towards you, mouth open to say something before another figure stepped in front of you, one you knew very well. especially since you'd picked out his shirt. you breathed a breath of relief as he glanced back at you, checking you were okay before returning a much more menacing gaze to your advancer.

"i don't know what you've said or done thus far, but the way my wife is lookin at you doesn't look very good for you," kayce said, his eyes turned in a glare as he stepped towards him.

"look, man, all i wanted was a dance, not anything more-"

"a dance is still too much to ask for, especially when she's already said no," kayce said sternly. "leave. now."

"what, like the whole-"

"i'd really love a reason to punch you and if you keep talking you're gonna be giving me one," kayce warned, but the guy didn't get it apparently because he kept going.

"hey, man i didn't do anything-"

kayce looked back at you. "he touch you?"

the moments between you nodding and kayce full on clocking the guy in the jaw went by in literally the blink of an eye. the man stumbled back and kayce swung again, effectively knocking him to the floor. he kicked him then, the man folding in half with a groan. kayce moved to do it again when you grabbed his arm.

"baby, let's just get out of here," you told him. "i don't need you getting in trouble."

"i'm the livestock commissioner, i'll be fine," he said.

"well, then, just..." you moved around him to where the dude was sprawled on the ground, looking up at your husband in fear as some blood tricked from a cut in his lip and also between his teeth. everyone in this town knew kayce dutton could throw a punch.

you stomped on his hand then, hard, earning a shout and an instant recoil. you could've sworn you felt a crunch under the heel of your boot when you did.

"so you can't grab any other girls anytime soon," you said before turning on your heel and grabbing your husband, who looked like he was chomping at the bit to get back to pummeling him. "c'mon, baby."

but, tonight was supposed to be fun. when you pulled him out the front door for some fresh air and maybe to bar hop, you thought to remind him of that. you turned to him with a smile, hand cupping his face just below his jaw. "c'mere, cowboy." you kissed him slowly, his hands falling to your waist almost instantly as he folded to your touch, returning the kiss eagerly.

when you pulled back, he kept you close, kissing you again.

"thank you," you breathed out when you finally broke again, smiling up at him. "i can always count on your mean right hook to get me out of any bad situation."

"i practice it just for that," he said quietly, pecking your lips again.

you laughed lightly. "seriously, thank you though," you said, wrapping your arms around his middle as you relaxed in his hold. "for saving me."

"i'll always save you," he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "and i'm never going to the bathroom while we're out again."

rip wheeler:

to get rip to go out was a chore. it usually took some promising of later nightly activities and some chanting and begging from the wranglers too. and when you finally got him there, he wasn't exactly interactive, mostly just watching you dance and getting you the appropriate amount of refills to keep you semi-aware.

aware for situations like this.

you were dancing the night away with teeter, hands in the air as you laughed and jumped and twirled with your favorite of the cowboys, glancing up at rip regularly to shoot him a wink or shout something about how great his ass looked in those jeans, when suddenly you felt hands on your waist.

you spun around, brows shot straight up as you swatted this strange, tall and skinny man who oddly reminded you of a drugged out, dark haired jimmy, man away from you, stepping back and bumping into teeter. "damn you're ballsy, dude," you said. he stepped back to you, his hands landing on your waist again, fingers brushing over the waistband of your jeans as teeter grabbed your shoulders and helped you shuffle away. "seriously, get off!"

"hey, come back here, baby-"

it was instinctive, really. your father had taught you how to throw a proper punch and rip had taught you the best places to throw it, and well, the first one that came to mind was the throat.

he staggered back with a choked breath, hand rising to his jugular as he stared at you with wide eyes. "you crazy bitch!"

"did you seriously just call me the bitch?" you said, stepping towards him now with your hand balled into a fist.

but, before you could throw another punch and before the psycho dude could fully recover, rip was now in the picture. two extremely well-placed punches sent the creep into the surrounding crowd. no one did or said anything for a few moments, everyone having seen him grab you and insinuating exactly who rip was in this situation.

he turned back to you, grabbing your hand tightly and sending a look teeter's way that had her collecting the rest of the wranglers, who had all suddenly appeared at your side.

"let's go," he said strictly.

"can we go to another bar?" you asked as he dragged you out of the facility and towards the truck. he let out a short laugh.

"there's no way in hell i'm letting you back into another bar anytime soon," he said. "if another psychotic bastard thinks he can put his hands on you i can't promise that i wouldn't kill him right then. it took a lot of restraint not to keep going in there, baby."

"rip, come on, let's have fun tonight - woah!"

and suddenly you were thrown over his shoulder in a fireman carry. he barely even stopped to do it, just scooping you up and continuing on to where he'd parked the truck.

"nope," he said. "and anyways, there's other ways to have fun." he pulled the door open and set you on the passenger seat with a smirk. "you have a couple promises to fulfill for even dragging me here in the first place."

"damn," you mumbled as he gave you a quick kiss, shutting the door and crossing to the other side. as he got in and buckled, you looked over at him with a bit of a dopey smile on your lips. "have i told you i love you recently?"

"i'm sure you have, baby, but i'm happy to hear it again," he told you, smiling your way as he started the truck up.

"well, i do love you. and thank you. that sucked."

"and it ain't ever gonna happen again on my watch," he promised. "he really just snuck up on you there."

"literally crazy."

ryan:

you weren't much of a games girl, which everyone thought was weird given the man you were with. but, you were content to watch, to sit at the bar conversing with the wranglers who weren't involved in the game of pool or dancing, and to watch colby crash and burn as he approached girls again and again.

that last one was your favorite activity.

every now and again you would wander back over to where ryan was playing lloyd or jake, cheer him on, give him a quick kiss, and then return to the designated spot colby kept coming back to after another failed attempt at wooing a tourist.

the tourists were funny too. you could always tell which ones had just bought their hats and boots before or even while they were in montana just to blend in. some of the girls were wearing such california things you wondered if they were wanting to blend in at all, which the answer was no. colby, and plenty of other cowboys, liked the tourists. or at least, for a quick one.

you were watching him with a grin as he stumbled on his words with a pretty brunette, sipping on your drink casually. he was using his hands to emphasize something and she did not seem like she was interested in that something at all. you giggled to yourself.

"you like people watching?"

you glanced to your side to see a shorter man with spiky blond hair at your side. this guy didn't even take a try at a hat, sticking it with bright and shiny new black tecovas with a pointed toe and a snakeskin design that was so opposite of what you were used to.

you didn't think you'd ever been turned off more by a boot.

"yeah, i do," you nodded, looking back at where colby was actively losing his chosen girl's attention. "it's entertaining."

"it is," he agreed, taking the seat next to you. "you from around here?"

for some reason, you laughed. you guessed it was because he was so obviously not from here that for him to ask you if you were was just funny to you. "yep. you ever heard of the yellowstone dutton ranch?"

"it got anything to do with the park?" he asked.

you laughed again before taking a sip of your drink. "no. around here, when people talk about the yellowstone, they're talking about the 800,000 acre cattle ranch just outside of town owned by the livestock commissioner and the oldest family in montana."

he seemed shocked, but he tried to get through it, continuing his little q&a. "you're from there?"

"it's my family that owns it," you answered easily.

"and what's it like owning 800,000 acres of some of the most coveted land in america?" he asked, tilting his head at you. if you hadn't before, you definitely piqued his interest now.

you shrugged. "it's a lot of work, but it's worth it. it's beautiful."

"lonely, though, i bet," he said, and that made you laugh again. wow, he really tried that one.

"no, actually," you told him. "need a good amount of people to run that ranch. don't get too much time to yourself."

"do you want time to yourself?" he asked.

"i'm good with what i've got, thank you," you told him. you looked over at where ryan had caught sight of your predicament and was making his way over to you. you stood, shooting the man at your right a polite smile. "one of the cowboys we've got is particularly attractive. i'm entertained enough, don't you worry about me."

he saw ryan then and stood as well. "i wouldn't say he's particularly attractive. you could do better."

"are you suggesting yourself?" you asked with a laugh, holding an arm out to wrap around ryan's waist as he came to your side, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before eying the man in front of y'all. "sorry, pal. you may be decently cute, but you ain't no cowboy. if you're looking to get lucky in this town it'd do you good to remember that. shoot for your own kind."

the man looked up at ryan. "you her cowboy?"

"damn straight," ryan answered. "you better take that advice. a lot of the cowgirls you'll see around here anyways are taken, you're asking for a fight talking to 'em. you're just lucky she played nice. it's the only reason i am too." ryan nodded, tilting his hat at the man before stepping away and bringing you with him. "best of luck. just not with my girl."

he took you back to the pool table with him where lloyd was laughing at the sight of you. he pressed another kiss to your head.

"did you really have to call him cute?" he asked you.

"decently cute," you reminded with a shake of your head. "i called you particularly attractive, which is an understatement. i just didn't wanna shake the guy's confidence down too much. those boots are doin that enough for him."

ryan laughed. "damn tourists."

carter:

nearly everything carter did reminded beth of how rip was at that age. and nearly everything you did as you consistently visited reminded her of how she was at that age.

it had her worried and excited.

"don't break his heart," she told you one day, cornering you after lunch. "i've been there, i've done that, it's terrible for everyone involved. save yourself the trouble and just snag him now, you know you want him and he wants you. just date, okay? and don't be a bitch later."

the words shocked you, but definitely kicked you into gear. carter was shier than you ever were, awfully polite and gentlemanly as beth had trained him to be, and so you were the one to get him into going to the bar.

"will we even get served here?" he asked, holding your hand as you led him in.

"hell yeah we will," you answered, smiling back at him as you approached the bar. you were quick to pull out your id - a fake one, but one nonetheless - and slide it to the bartender. "an old fashioned please."

"what about me?" carter whispered.

you laughed lightly. "just get your id out, darlin'."

confused but obedient, he pulled out his wallet and was surprised to see a new driver's license in the clear slot he usually kept his in. one that said he was 21.

he held it up as he cleared his throat, catching the bartender's attention. "make that two." he looked back at you. "these any good?"

"i think so," you answered with a shrug. "you ever have bourbon before, or just beer?"

"just beer," he nodded.

"well, hopefully you'll like it," you said with a shrug. "i've seen your dad make them back at the ranch. i'm sure you'll like them."

"oh, he's not my dad," he corrected as the bartender slid them over to y'all.

you furrowed your brows. "really? you look exactly alike."

it was as he was taking his first swig of his drink that you felt someone slide between you and the person sitting next to you, their arm settling on the counter in front of you. you looked up, brows raised as you found a man, definitely in his late 30s, in a nicer shirt than this bar deserved, brand new boots, and what looked to be a cross between dress pants and jeans. interesting.

"can i help you?" you asked, his positioning crowding you into your seat even though you didn't move much. this was your bubble, he was the one who had to get out of it.

"just wondering if you had anyone paying for this drink," he said, his hand now on your whiskey as you narrowed your eyes.

carter moved sharply to stand, but settled when you set a hand on his knee, thumb rubbing circles into his jeans. you offered the guy a very thin, very fake smile.

"that's a nice shirt," you said, earning a wider smile from the man. "where'd you get it?" he almost went to answer, but you continued, your next few sentences stringing together in almost one breath.

"oh, well, i bet you don't know since your wife bought it for you. or - is it ex-wife, now? i don't see a ring, but i definitely see that faded tan line from it being there for years and recently taken off. probably because of a very similar situation we find ourselves in now. your wife is at home, with the kids, waiting for you to take her out to a dinner that will never happen because you're here, scoping out for the youngest woman you can find to sloppily sleep with in the back of your brand new honda civic that you convinced yourself and that girl was some new sports car because it's a 'newer model'."

already, he was in shock, staring at you with a scared kind of wonder that for some reason made you so proud.

you continued. "so, either you're here trying to do that again behind your wife's back, or she's already divorced you, which for her sake i hope is the case, because you seem like a pathetic piece of shit who blames his infidelity on being overworked and undersupported when really you're just a pedophiliac horndog who doesn't understand what the word 'no' means."

you took your drink back from him, taking a sip from it as you watched his expression change between shocked, offended, confused, and embarrassed.

"and yes," you added, "i do have someone to pay for my drink."

he gaped at you as you turned away from him, hand still on carter's knee as you grinned into your glass, sipping from it again. he glanced behind you at carter and you knew he wanted to exclaim how carter was a boy and he was a man, but didn't because he didn't know what else you would say.

"you psycho bitch," he muttered. "all i did was offer to pay for your drink."

"yeah, well i'm quite obviously young enough to be the daughter you had when you accidentally knocked up the drum major when you were a junior, so it's still kind of disgusting," you told him, rolling your eyes. "especially when it's so easy to see that the man i'm sitting next to is my boyfriend, or at the very least, someone else who is paying for my drink because we got them to us at the exact same time and my hand is on his knee. so fuck off, dickwad."

and he did, scoffing as he left. carter turned to look at you with wide eyes before he breathed out a laugh.

"you're my favorite person ever," he said. you smiled at him, shrugging lightly.

"i was trained by the best," you hummed.

he smiled at that before giving you a curious look, tilting his head at you. "so, i'm your boyfriend?"

"i'm hoping," you said, smiling back. "i mean, i really like you, and i think you like me. beth told me to get on with it already because why waste time, hence why we're here. i can call you my boyfriend, right?"

"yeah, yeah you can," he said, nodding as he breathed out a laugh.

you were beaming, maybe even blushing as you glanced away for a few moments before continuing conversation. "how's your drink?"

"surprisingly good," he answered. "you have good taste."

your smile softened a bit as you looked at him, nodding slowly. "yeah, i do." you finished your drink in one swig, setting the glass on the counter. "hey, do you wanna get out of here?"

"but, we just got here," he said, furrowing his brows.

"well, i just have this feeling more situations are going to arise that will either warrant me coming up with more speeches like that or you punching a guy square in the nose, and i'm not in the mood for either," you answered, standing and pulling your wallet from your bag.

"hey, no, i pay," he said. he tossed a ten and a twenty on the counter, his hand going to your lower back as he followed you out of the bar.

"hey carter?" you asked as he opened the passenger door to the truck, holding your hand to help you up. he smiled up at you.

"yeah?"

you reached forward, taking his face in your hand and pressing your lips to his gently. he froze for a minute, but stepped forward to reach you better and deepened the kiss as best he knew how, his hands on your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

when you pulled away, he was grinning, "damn."

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