#i hear them right fucking now with my earplugs in

[pearl-kite]

To the people racing down the streets at literally all hours of the night, I wish you a very Engine Fucking Explode

[yoohyeon]

My stupid neighbours woke me up with their music again so I decided to get up (staying in my bed) and they stopped the music and literally the same time… I’m going to k*ll them

[junkissed]

love thy neighbor

member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!

joshua should be asleep right now. 

really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 

but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.

maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.

the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.

really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 

and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.

except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.

having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 

he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.

a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.

so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.

he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.

oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)

but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)

so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 

but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 

after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.

god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.

earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.

were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.

but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).

you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 

he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.

which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.

it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 

so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?

either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.

you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?

“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.

you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”

you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.

cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.

the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 

but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.

when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.

of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 

pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.

unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.

he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 

on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?

on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.

if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.

in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.

joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.

but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.

he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.

he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 

but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.

but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.

so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.

hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 

he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.

he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.

okay

he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.

it’s nothing. don’t worry

joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 

so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.

you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”

finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”

he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.

“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”

“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.

“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.

you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.

“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”

you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”

“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”

“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 

he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”

“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”

“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”

“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”

his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”

“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 

joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”

he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”

you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”

“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”

“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.

now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”

you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”

his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.

you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.

“so about the walls thing—”

“hm?” he mumbles.

“—you can really hear everything?”

he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”

“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.

“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”

you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.

“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”

you pout. “that was only that one time!”

“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”

heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 

“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.

“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.

“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.

“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.

you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”

you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.

the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 

“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”

you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”

“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.

joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 

“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”

after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.

“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.

your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”

“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.

you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?

your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.

“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.

“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.

you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?

he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.

“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”

you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.

even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 

with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.

“joshua?”

“mhm?”

“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.

he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.

even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 

laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 

but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[kinkyrafe]

No Vision, No Sound

Kinktober, October 08

THIS WORK IS 18+ ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary:

The one where Rafe needs something really intense.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, domme!reader, sub!rafe, very explicit

taglist: @yagirlwrites @audzzz @valyrianflower @aariahnaa

"Look what’s arrived just now!" you exclaim with a grin, holding up the package. The excitement in your voice cuts through the stillness of the room.

He looks up from the couch, his face showing a hint of curiosity but mostly the weight of the day still pressing on him. You know he’s been in his head, overthinking, drifting. But that’s about to change. You had already planned on doing a scene tonight, and the fact that the fitted noise-canceling earplugs arrived a day early? Perfect timing.

"What’s that?" he asks, though his voice is distant, distracted.

"The earplugs finally came," you say, your grin widening as you walk over to him, the package crinkling in your hands.

"Are you going to have me wear them tonight?" His eyes flicker with uncertainty, a bit of hesitation, but also trust. It’s always there, since the first scene you spent together, he always had this tremendous amount of trust.

"I will." You tilt your head, noticing how his teeth catch his bottom lip. A sign of nerves.

You let your fingers caress his cheek, grounding him with your touch. "What’s going on in that head of yours?" Your thumb brushes across his lip, coaxing him to stop chewing on it.

"I was... hoping for some intense shit tonight. I really need to get out of my head." His voice trails off, a little embarrassed.

You can’t help but smile softly. Oh, he thinks sensory play won't be intense… that's cute.

"I promise you, it'll be intense," you say, your voice low but firm. "You won’t be in your head for long, believe me."

He glances at the package again. "But… I won’t be able to hear you, right? With those in?"

"Nope," you confirm, setting the box down on the table. "But you’ll feel me. My hands. My lips. I’ll touch you the entire time, I’ll make sure of it. And if you don’t like it, you know, you can always safe word out."

He hesitates for another moment, clearly still lingering on the idea of control. "Can’t we just do impact play or something like that tonight? Maybe save the new stuff for tomorrow?"

Your lips curve into a teasing smile. He’s such a sucker for a good spanking. It’s one of his favorite ways to ground himself. But tonight? You have something else in mind. "Nope. You’ve got a late meeting tomorrow, and I guarantee you won’t be in any shape for this after tonight. Because tonight, I’m going to fuck your brains out." You punctuate the last part with a playful wink, slapping his chest lightly. "Now, go shower and get yourself ready."

He lingers for a second, clearly nervous. He’s always a little tense before trying something new. But you know him better than anyone—he trusts you, even when the nerves kick in.

"Where do you want me after?" he asks, his voice quieter, almost moody.

You consider him for a moment before answering. "Where do you feel most comfortable? The couch, my bed, maybe the dining table?"

"Your bed," he finally says, a bit sheepishly.

"Okay." You nod, your tone encouraging. "Go kneel in my room once you’re done, and I’ll set everything up."

Once everything is in place, you glance over at him, kneeling obediently in the corner of your bedroom. His back is straight, shoulders tense. He’s facing the wall, unable to see what’s coming next, and that’s exactly how you want it.

You move toward him slowly, letting the tension build. "Listen carefully. You won’t know what’s coming. I’ll tie you up to all four corners of the bed, spread you wide. I know how squirmy you can get–" You see a small smirk play on his lips, and you raise an eyebrow, continuing. "-- and I don’t want to pressure you too much today. I know that you won’t be able to keep still. I just want you to feel. After that, I’ll blindfold you, and once you’re nice and settled, I’ll put the earplugs in."

His breathing picks up slightly, and when you lean in to whisper, your voice turns more authoritative. "I’m just going to play with you. Touch you. Tease you. Play with your nipples, and definitely play with your ass. You’ll come—multiple times. So, it won’t stop after the first one. You have permission to come anytime, today, you don’t have to ask before. Understood?"

A groan escapes his lips. He’s already hard. "Yes, Mistress," he manages, voice tight with anticipation.

"Looking forward to it?" you ask, teasing.

"Coming multiple times is exhausting," he admits, though there’s a thrill in his voice. "But yes, Mistress, I am."

You laugh softly, trailing a finger over his hard cock. He shudders. "You can handle it. What are your safe words?" You ask, same as at the beginning of every session. He answers. "Today, we will add 'ear plugs out' to the list, okay? Say that and I'll have them out immediately."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you have questions?"

"Yes, mistress," he answers, "I won’t be gagged, right?"

"No, you won’t. I want you to communicate with me, especially your safe words, when you can’t hear me," you explain, "Plus, I want to hear you scream."

He looks up at you shortly, a playful smirk now on his lips. "Challenge accepted."

You laugh. "Oh, trust me, if I want you to scream, you will."

"We will see," he says, wiggling his eyebrows before he turns his gaze down again.

"Are you sure you want to challenge me when I literally have all the control over you?"

He chuckles quietly, maybe at his own cockiness.

"Stop talking back now," you tell him with no bite in your voice. "Any other questions?"

"No, Mistress," he answers and gets more serious again, knowing that this always is the last bit before the playing starts. This is how you know you trained him well.

With the scene set and the anticipation thick in the air, you guide him onto the bed, securing his wrists to the headboard and his ankles spread wide to the corners of the bed. The blindfold comes first, plunging him into darkness.

He shifts slightly, testing the restraints.

"Stay still," you murmur. When he lies still and his breathing is calm, you lean close and slide the earplugs into place.

“I’m here, it’s just me,” you tell him softly, right before his world goes completely silent. You notice that you yourself have the urge to soothe him with your voice. You’re so talkative and chatty during scenes, no wonder he will miss it. Instead you let your fingers trail over his cheeks and his jawline, down his throat, over his broad chest.

Now, it’s just you—his Mistress—and his own heightened sensations. You start slow, letting your fingertips barely brush his skin, gliding across his chest and down to his thighs. He’s already twitching, body hyperaware of every little movement.

It’s mesmerizing to watch.

His hips buck up involuntarily when you ghost your knuckle over his erection. His head rolls back, and though he can’t hear you, you chuckle softly. He’s already whining, already desperate for more.

"Patience," you whisper into the silence, knowing he can’t hear, but feeling the power of the moment wash over you. You repeat the gentle touch, never giving him what he truly wants—just a teasing brush that leaves him a trembling mess.

He thrashes, pulling against the bonds, desperate for more. You press your hand flat against his chest, keeping him grounded. "Just feel," you murmur again, dragging your knuckle along his shaft without giving him the satisfaction of a full stroke.

Each time he thrusts up, seeking more friction, you pull away, denying him. You’re making him wait. The longer the wait, the better it feels.  In theory. According to his moans also in practice.

His face twists in frustration, lips forming silent pleas. It’s as if he himself has forgotten that he would technically be able to make noises and even speak. He’s desperate, but he’s not safe-wording out. He’s enduring. He’s giving in to the intensity of the unknown.

When you finally push a slicked-up dildo into him, his entire body shudders. He groans, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat, even without the benefit of his own hearing. He’s trapped in this silence, in this world of pure sensation, and you’re driving him higher with every subtle movement.

You continue to tease, building him up, watching his body twitch uncontrollably. The first orgasm rips through him, but you don’t stop.

He does make noises now and his cries and please grow more urgent, more desperate as he comes again and again, each time more overwhelming than the last.

Finally, when you sense he’s reaching his limit, you slow down, easing him back into a calmer state, letting your touch soften and soothe. His body goes limp beneath your hands, utterly spent, but still radiating the raw intensity of everything you’ve done.

He clearly thinks you’re done with him. You decide to give him a tiny break but then you surprise him with another round. When he is entirely relaxed, his breathing beginning to even out, you slide the dildo right back into his hole. You completely catch him off guard. His entire body jolts in shock, muscles tensing as he gasps out, arching involuntarily. He can’t hear you, can’t see you, but the sensation of you pushing back inside him sends a fresh wave of overwhelming intensity through his nerves, pulling a desperate, broken moan from his throat as the realization sets in: you aren’t done with him yet.

“There you go, baby,” you tell him even though he can’t hear you, “One last time, come on.”

It doesn’t take long until he cums again, completely dry this time, the orgasm jerking through his entire body as he pulls at the restraints so heavily that for the first time ever, you’re afraid they might tear.

Later on, when you remove the earplugs, letting all the sounds flood back in, you make sure that the first thing he hears is your voice, soft and praising: “You did so good, baby.” He deserves all the praise he can get.

Once he’s all grounded and fully present again, you can’t help but tease: “I hope this was intense enough for you.”

He nearly shoves you for that. Nearly.

[majorproblems77]

ITS LU UPDATE TIME!!!

AND IT IS ALL ABOUT SKY AND IM SO EXCITED :DDDDD

You know what that means! It means a long post by me! :D

Cant wait to be excited about my blorbo for like 30 minutes, so sit get some popcorn and like some earplugs cause i will try to contain my screaming but I've been waiting for more Sky stuff and I'm so excited!!!!

For point, and because I keep forgetting, all the panels I'll be talking about belong to JoJo and @linkeduniverse

Let's do this!

Alright lets get this out of the way first, I love some parallels right, So as per usual, if I need a panel from anything prior I'll let you know where it's from!

So what do you think he asked him.

Hey sir! Have you seen a guy with a big flag on his back going way to fast come through there?

Man is just like, oh yeah he went that way past the forge that your other weird fellows were at earlier.

He run, Then he hero stop. Power pose activated, target acquired. Then he run some more

Run my blorbo run!

Genuinely interested in what exactly this is, Is it a map? Is it a list of places? Is it a paper with time shift shenanigans in it?

I'm not versed in the postman, Is this normal, or did he do this cause he heard Sky and wanted him to think he was waiting?

This face has be dead. (/pos) I love him so much my dear blorbo its been too long since we saw you last.

Putting this together for 1 reason

Postman is a dick, Sky was so close, That can't be more than 10 or so metres at most. Poor man ran across Town out of town to catch up to you for you to go sprinting off into the woods, and my man is full on Olympic sprinting to deliver this mail geesus.

Also, the compulsory return of the king 🧍, Sky is the king of this pose and will not be beaten. Although Legend comes pretty close.

God the expressions in this update are top tier, Sky is just so expressive. Right now, Man is thinking why he does this to himself.

I'm fucking cackling, this art is amazing and Jojo's sister did an amazing job. Like I feel like I can hear this picture with that teasing tone that my siblings would use on me when we were younger. God I love it.

So even though Sky is looking towards Legend here, so I'm totally under the impression that Legend said Wahhhh, and Hyrule said I cant run. As Hyrule was with wars When they got split up initally. Poor Sky, man has become the butt of jokes. Im glad Four is giving them a look, He doesn't look impressed. Its okay Sky, you've got a friend in Four behind you. :D

War's is the real MVP of this arc in my opinion, Man has been in charge of the ragtag chain while Time has been out of action looking over Twilight. He's at the end of his tether.

Part of me wonders if this is going to impact his fighting going forward? Maybe he'll slip up because he's so stressed. He knows not all of them are knighted. These heroes he is with are NOT soldiers and he can't treat them as such.

And this sentence. Don't Interrupt! sounds like he is scolding rowdy recruits, rather than fellow heroes.

Which if you think about it, Sky is giving essentially a scouting report here, He scouted ahead and has returned to speak about his findings. War's is a captain, in his era he's a commanding officer. He's taken reports of this kind before.

Having a panel with Time, Wild and Twilight in Gives me more life than i think i give it credit for. (I am in the crowd that there's a family connection between these three.)

It's also nice to see Wild, like genuinely smiling.

Moving on

Hero pose again! :D

I love this man

These panels are very important to me so give me a moment while I explain.

Sky probably has her words engrained in his mind. You can see the questioning look, and thinking. "Is this going to work?"

That eternal dream That he's talking about, he knows her power is faded, but he's going to try anyway. I just didn't think he would use it to track what I can only assume is the postman.

It's really nice to have Sky's relationship with the master sword put on display. It means a lot to me and has brought me great Joy through this update.

He cares about her. And even if she can't talk to him anymore. He still trusts her to lead him true.

And this panel breaks my heart! Something inside of him probably really hoped Fi would speak to him or give him more of an indication. Sky looks so sad.

I just wanna hug him, and tell him it'll be alright. He's probably thinking about turning around at this point. Maybe he's thinking about how some members of the chain perceive Fi.

A soulless weapon.

(Or maybe im thinking too much into this)

The way his faith is restored!

Fi did lead him! She did! She's still there somewhere, and his shock! Oh my boy. My sweet blorbo,

And having used like super zoom on that last panel, MY BOY IS SMILING! :D

RUN BLORBO RUN I BELIEVE IN YOU!

(Also appreciation for the full body shot's we've got of Sky from this update, I love it so much I love him so much.)

Did I go hunting for the references, Yes I Did.

I think the following area is the area where they pull Twilight too, rather than the battle field and he then moved on from here to get to the battle field.

From sunset pt4

The pillar behind Sky has the only slant I can think of. It looks to be the same angle, but that could just be me.

If it is that location, it might be closer to that battlefield than we originally (Or at least I originally) assumed.

(If you've got any other places let me know!)

God i love him

Blorbo beloved! Is about as shocked as i am with the whole Mailman thing.

The confidence of this man is unreal. He's ready, he's moving he's going. He's going and ain't going to stop.

Me absolutely yelling at how this portal looks, it so ANGRY, But we know the Shadow is pissed right now. And if the shadow is making these portals and he's angry. I think the chain might be in for a surprise as they move on to the next location.

Which if I have to be honest. I think is going to be Skyloft. I think we are moving into a Sky arch, having had a Twilight Arc. (I also really want to see Skyloft in this universe, and there's an opportunity here. We've had more master sword things. We've had Sky content. who knows where Jojo will take this next, but I'm excited either way.)

Finally back to the chain! :D

The gremlins return :D

Wind's little 3:< face as he's thinking is giving the energy of an upcoming detective arch, He is thinking and he is thinking HARD okay.

Poor Sky. Man has been running around doing all the hard work while the rest of them just enjoy themselves. Hyrule especially is kinda like 'Ohhh... our bad...'

It's actually a kinda guilty look, maybe he feels a little bad about the teasing from earlier?

Now i gotta mention the potion thing, cause its just so damn funny not too. Sky my blorbo slow down you are gonna choke on the stamina potion.

But.

I want to focus on War's here.

And Wild too.

These two. These two are important.

Wild has gone from happy and chill vibes to Oh shit real quick.

After everything he put into the Shadow, while the shadow was injured and watched as the thing exploded. It just decided to come back or something. And Wild, here I imagine is thinking, "How was that not enough..."

Now Wars.

War's is Stood not looking at anything, In fact, I think he's looking past Time. The last thing he said was a two word scolding but apart from that he's been awfully quiet. Now he looks like he's thinking. He's closed off, protective.

The only time I can see where he does this is when he's in what I'm going to call, 'Captain mode.' So, When he's flicked something in his head that tells him he has to be a knight.

He dosent do it often, in fact from what I can see he does it 4 other times.

In order

Devine dark reflections pt 8 - when he's talking about knighthood with Sky and Hyrule

Sunset pt11 - When talking about Wild, and the fact that he's left

Sunset pt13 - When speaking to Twilight about pulling his own weight

Dawn pt 2 - when Twilight is talking about the team they are.

And now here in Dawn 7 - Where they are discussing the fact that an enemy they fought escaped or survived.

All conversations I would assume a captain would have to have with his men at one point or another. I wonder what He's thinking here. It's got me thinking.

Woah, So this took me longer than I thought. I am on the 4-hour mark now. Lmaoooo

Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for listening to me ramble for like 20 minutes.

And just remember

Sky is the sweet bestest blorbo beloved and I love him. :D

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[drainslo]

Brains & Brawn- Chapter 1: Meeting

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

You thought you had spent a little over two months in the Borderlands, as you leveled your rifle to kill a giraffe that was running away. It was strange how desensitized you were to killing things by now.

Niragi poked his head out from around a nearby enclosure. You pulled the earplug out of your ear to hear him complain. “—-got the giraffe? You know I wanted to kill it! Fucking lame.”

“Sorry, forgot about your obsession with big, tall things. Maybe it’s ‘cuz you’re projecting something you’re insecure about onto other things,” you rolled your eyes at Niragi’s tantrum.

Niragi frowned and pointed his sniper rifle towards you. You sighed and put the earplug back in your ear then stepped away from the glass window behind you. You knew what was coming next.

CRACK

The glass window shattered and you adeptly maneuvered away from the shards that now littered the floor. They twinkled like small pieces of stardust. Beautiful, but would cut you if you got too close.

“Niragi!” you protested in playful annoyance. He was the most melodramatic of the militants, so you knew that he would try to pull a stunt like this. Despite his mischief, you knew he would never do anything to seriously hurt you.

He hopped towards you across the glass and pulled out your earplug.

“Whoops,” he paused, then dropped it to the ground and walked away.

“Jerk! Get back here!” You sighed as you dismally looked at the fallen earplug. Niragi always called you lame for using one, but you didn’t want the sound of gunshots to damage your hearing more than necessary.

You then heard a familiar chime. Finally, the six of spades game was cleared. The start of a car engine running startled you, and you walked out of the zoo.

Aguni and the other militants were already waiting for you, and one seat was left for you. 

“What took you so long?” Niragi teased as you stepped into the car.

“I ran into some trouble on the way here by the name of Suguru Niragi,” you quipped back.

“You can kill each other back at the Beach,” Aguni said unimpressed and started driving.

“Aw, ‘shucks,” Niragi grumbled, but you knew he was being insincere.

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

Once you got back at the Beach, Hatter appraised your group. “Six of spades? Great! Also great timing– I’m calling an executive meeting right now.”

You groaned in annoyance, because even though you were the Beach’s #9 militant, that didn’t mean you liked going to Hatter’s meetings. You’d rather do target practice with Niragi outside.

Aguni and Hatter led the way, conversing about something important as you trailed behind them with Niragi and Last Boss. 

“What do you think it’s about this time?” you smirked at Niragi, inviting him to join in on your disparagement of the executive meetings.

“I would bet my life that it’s either something absolutely insane, or absolutely moronic,” Niragi laughed.

Hatter pushed open the meeting room’s doors where the rest of the executives were already waiting, and a player you vaguely recognized. You never learned his name, but he was one of the few in the Borderlands that still maintained dyed blonde hair. 

The way his hair caught in the light, you admired, made it look like stardust. 

“Ladies, lads, I have a member here who is a most invaluable asset to the Beach,” Hatter’s eyes glinted in a way that made you feel extremely unsettled. He was plotting something, you were sure of.

Hatter dramatically paused before locking eyes with you. “I’m thinking of making him a new executive.”

Your heart dropped. Sure you were an executive, but you were the lowest ranking one. Hatter was directly threatening your position.

“Can’t you count? We already have all 9 spots for executives,” Niragi was always unabashed when it came to speaking against Hatter.

“I’m well aware of that. I compared the cards between (Name), and Chishiya here, and Chishiya almost has the same value as (Name). Wouldn’t it be unfair to the Beach if a member who was less worthy was ranked higher?” Hatter replied.

“Bullshit. The militants are already significantly less than your little group Hatter. If you could do math, you’d see that removing (Name) would disrupt the balance more,” Niragi said menacingly and propped up his gun against his shoulder, as if reminding Hatter who had the power to kill.

“Well, that depends on the card your group brought back. Did you say it was six of spades?”

This time it was Aguni who replied, “Yes.”

Hatter frowned for a second, and looked down at a piece of paper that I just realized he was carrying. He traced his writing with his fingers slowly and looked pensive for a moment before speaking.

“Well I’ll be damned. You two now are perfectly tied,” Hatter said, sounding disappointed.

“So, what does that mean now?”  You asked worriedly. You got the feeling that you weren’t exactly out of the woods yet.

Hatter paused again, presumably to think. You were surprised at how much thought he was putting into this. You looked over at Chishiya, who was staring blankly at a bug writhing on the floor. He looked oblivious as to the quandary Hatter now found himself in. 

In fact, you thought, it looked like Chishiya didn’t care about what was happening at the meeting at all.

An stepped forward, always the voice of reason. “There should be an evaluative measure to see who’s more deserving of the title. Maybe a duel of sorts between the two?”

You grinned, and brandished your rifle playfully. Chishiya made eye contact with you as you scanned him up and down. He had a lithe figure that was not particularly athletic. 

“I’d go for a gun duel any day. Or maybe even some sparring would be fun. It’s been ages since I last beat someone up,” you said. To your surprise, Chishiya didn’t seem the least bit intimidated.

Hatter waved you off almost immediately. “No, no, no! Chishiya– no offense– would get creamed. I’ll think about a way to determine who gets to keep the position. In the meantime, (Name) and Chishiya will share the number 9 executive room temporarily.”

“What?” you blurted before you could stop yourself. At this comment, Chishiya also appeared startled.

“I said temporarily. You know, just to see how things go. You can keep your room, (Name), and Chishiya can get a taste of the executive lifestyle. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to see how you guys handle things up close. So, what do you say–up for sharing a room for a while?” Even though Hatter had now phrased the situation like you had a choice, you knew that in reality you had none.

You sighed and lowered your head before nodding.

“I have no problem with it,” was the first and only thing Chishiya said coolly.

Hatter clapped his hands together. “Great! Executives dismissed.”

As soon as you exited the meeting room, you turned the corner to slide against the wall. You placed your rifle next to you, and used your arms to cover your head. This was the worst possible outcome of the meeting. 

“Hey, I need your key,” a voice interrupted your misery.

You uncovered yourself to look up at the person who spoke. Chishiya was holding his hand out expectedly.

When you didn’t move or respond, he prompted you again impatiently. “Hatter needs to make a copy for me.”

You ripped the key off your wristband and dropped it unceremoniously into his waiting palm before storming off with your rifle.

“Thanks” he said dryly to your back.

You went to find Niragi to kill him, because the meeting was not absolutely insane or absolutely moronic.

It was somehow a worse cocktail combination of the two.

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: Chapter 3

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!!)

Word Count: 1400

Summary:Miguel was consuming your every thought and it's becoming an issue. You wonder if he's having the same problem.

Warnings: Smut- Male (Shower) masturbation, Sexual frustration, Pinning, tension, Angsy as hell, learn a little more about reader's life, J. Jonah Jameson is in every universe Notes: I just realized I never said that the 'shared spider-sense' theme of this fic is entirely inspired by the relationship between Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, or more commonly known as Silk. They were both bitten by the same spider and share a spider sense, making them drawn to each other and ALSO able to track the other through the multi-verse. Silk is a an awesome spider character. 10/10 recommend checking out her comics (But I say that about every comic) I'm not sure Miguel and readers connection will be exaaaactly the same since they literally couldn't have been bitten by the same spider, but yeah. This is a totally cannon thing spider people can do 😅

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Series Masterlist

AO3

-

Chapter 3

On My Mind

The restaurant was busier than you’d like, but really everywhere in this city was. Busier just meant louder, and louder meant earplugs for you. After having advanced hearing for nearly a decade you’d gotten used to it by now. You didn’t want to spend all night asking people to repeat themselves because you could over-hear everything that was happening in the restaurant. Right now you just wanted to be with your friends— unfortunately, your mind kept drifting elsewhere. 

Since you returned to your dimension 3 days ago, Miguel has consumed your every waking thought. Your daily hero life was suffering for it. You lost 2 robbers last night and missed a car chase this morning because you were too stuck in your own head. You were never one to get distracted on the job— and by a guy no less. 

 I should have stayed in the training room. I should have stayed longer and maybe we could have…

You’re not entirely sure what would have happened, honestly. This was uncharted territory. Some undefined connection only between the two of you? An innate sensation that drove you to horny madness. It sounded like a bad comic book plot. You’d probably had weirder things happen in your nearly 10-year-long spider career but this was by far the most frustrating.

Just the thought of him invaded your every sense. The deep rumble of his voice. His distinctive, rich smell— Like red wine. The taste he left in your mouth. 

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly, and you hated how much you wanted him. You didn’t even know anything about him.

Fuck Miguel O’Hara and whatever the fuck he was doing to you. 

But Miguel was a Spider-Woman problem.

Tonight you didn’t want to be Spider-Woman. You wanted to forget your interdimensional side gig and the broody, gigantic man that was driving you insane. Tonight you just wanted to be a good friend— and you were failing miserably at that too. 

Your best friend Jack wrangled his boyfriend, Ash, and your college friend Sue to come out for drinks and your mind couldn’t be further away.

“Hey, space cadet!” Jack snaps his fingers directly in front of your face. You’d been staring at the same potted plant across the room for probably 5 minutes now. You crash back to maddening reality. 

“Sorry, what?” you reenter whatever the conversation was now with a pitiful smile.

“Ash asked what’s new at the paper,” Jack repeats the question you never heard. He gives you a worried look. Jack knew about your double life. He’d known you for so long now, you couldn’t hide anything from him. He'd catch it whenever something was slightly amiss before you could even articulate a single word— thus why he lined up this friend's night in the first place. You’d been reclusive since you’d joined the multiverse. 

“Oh, at the Bugle?” You take a generous swig of your cocktail, “Jameson’s still behind on the times, I think. Keeps trying to push papers instead of giving our digital department more funding. I’m still only making stuff for print. Like, do you even remember the last time you even read from a newspaper?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I ever have.” Ash snorts.

“Maybe in high school,” Sue taps her chin, “And even then it was for like an assignment.” 

“People still need paper-mache supplies!” Jack interjects.

“Hey!” you playfully shove him, “That’s my entire industry you’re shitting on, sir!”

“Oh, so you’re defending the infamous J. Jonah Jameson now?”

“I’m but a lowly graphic designer,” you clarify, “The only thing he wants me to do with his precious paper is not look too much like The Times .”

You’d landed your job at The Daily Bugle in college. An internship turned full-time staff position. You’d gotten Jack some freelance work there on the side. He was seemingly the only photographer that could get a halfway decent picture of the mysterious Spider-Woman. He always gave you a small cut of whatever Jamason was willing to shell out. You didn’t know how to work a camera for crap, but you knew how to pose for a picture.

The evening rolls on with a pleasant demeanor. It was nice to be talking to non-spider people. To listen to the casual ramblings of your friend's completely ordinary lives. That new bitch at work or their mother calling one too many times a day. You envied them, honestly. It’s been so long since you could just simply live . This night out was a small taste of what you’d been missing. Connection. 

And, of course, it gets ruined. 

The nearby wail of sirens penetrates through your foam earplugs. They were maybe 3 blocks away. Once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. All conversations fall dead in your ears, your focus now entirely on the possible imminent danger to your city. The sirens are getting further away now.

A vibration from your phone in your pocket catches your attention. You check it under the table. A text from Jack. 

‘Sidejob thing?’

He always texted you in code about Spider-Woman business. He must have seen your face go placid, even though he can’t hear the distant sirens. You give him a faint nod across the table and he glances to the door— His silent message loud and clear. 

What are you waiting for? Go.

You know Jack did his best to understand, even if he never truly could. You had a duty. It wasn’t just a job, but who you were. You could never just stand idly by.

You quickly make an excuse about forgetting a deadline and shimmy out of the booth, leaving a few bucks for your meal. So much for no Spider-Woman tonight. 

____

Fuck you. Get out of my head.

Fuck you. Get out of my head.

It had become his mantra for the last few days— of course, it didn’t help anything, but cursing you gave him some minor vindication. 

He found himself in the shower 20 minutes longer than usual, attempting to give himself some kind of relief. The thought of you waiting on your knees for him clawed at his mind. He stroked his painfully hard cock to the image, now forever burned into his retinas. 

He never got distracted. It wasn’t in his nature. He prided himself on being the best leader he possibly could be. Attentive, knowledgeable, a team player— and for the most part, he was. Now you had come and thrown a wrench into all of that.

He should have known from the first time he saw you this would be a problem. It caught him completely off guard, but how could he have been prepared for… whatever this was? He was in the midst of building an empire, and there you were, as casual as ever— and so clearly just as confused as he was. A spider-sense suddenly manifesting? Ridiculous.

As soon as you locked eyes, he knew this was all because of you.

God, you were beautiful.

There had been few times he let his instincts take hold of him. He’d made himself into an apex predator in search of his spider abilities— he had to hold himself to a different standard than the rest of you. He was dangerous, and whatever this connection is, was dangerous in turn. 

He couldn’t control it, not yet anyway. And seemingly, you couldn’t either. You were both prey to your most primal desires and irresistibly drawn to the other to satisfy them.

He couldn’t escape your assault on all of his senses. He was fixated on you in every way imaginable. Your smell, your voice, your looks— your taste. 

He cums to the memory of your soft thighs squeezing his head. He heaves shaky breath after shaky breath, trying to gather his composure. It was hollow, fleeting relief. He can’t help but think you could have made it better— He knows you’d have made it better. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the foggy glass and is immediately disgusted with himself. 

He’d never been this way before. You were part of his team, a fellow hero that decided to join his league. He was your boss, for lack of a better term. This couldn’t go on. At least not the way it was currently.

He needed answers.

He was a scientist. It was time to do some research.

[jerzwriter]

Money, Money - Tobias x Casey HC

It took me three years to write the story of how my messy kids finally got their act together and ended up together. By the time they did, they had a solid foundation of friendship underneath them, and they were so in love. I imagine the honeymoon period was intense; however, nothing is perfect, and transitioning from friends to so much more comes with its challenges. So, I decided it's time to finally write those stories, too. I think this one would take place about a month after they got together. I hope you enjoy it!

Book: Open Heart (Late Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 2,500 Summary: Tobias and Casey are finally together, and madly in love; things are going smoothly until Casey learns something about her new boyfriend... and she's not pleased. How will they work it out?

A/N: Above, also, participating in @choicesjunechallenge2024 - “You’ve got to make up your mind.”

Tobias x Casey Masterlist Open Heart Masterlist Full Masterlist

It was a perfect Sunday morning in the roomie’s cozy Boston apartment. At least, Jackie thought so. With two of the five roomies working – and Bryce conspicuously absent – the place was quiet for a change. Even better, Sienna and Aurora had prepared a delicious breakfast to enjoy for no more than a promise to do the dishes. Sitting at the table in her raggedy old t-shirt, shoveling homemade waffles into her mouth was as good as it gets.

“These are so good,” she drooled.

“Thanks,” Sienna replied proudly. “I saved this new recipe for our next girls’ day.”

“Girls’ day less one,” Aurora clarified.

“I know,” Sienna frowned. “I’m really happy for Casey, but I miss her since she's dating Tobias. I feel like she’s never here anymore.”

“Because she’s not, and we all know why that is,” Jackie snickered.

“I know,” Sienna chuckled. “I was just hoping she’d be home a little more often.”

“There are five people in five bedrooms here... Tobias has five bedrooms for the two of them at his place. Can’t say I blame her,” Aurora shrugged.

“Yeah, and the upside is, if they go there, we don’t have to hear them,” Jackie added. 

Aurora raised her glass of orange juice in agreement, but Sienna wasn't sold.

“Still, I’d be willing to sleep with earplugs once in a while to see Casey more often."

“I would, too,” Aurora agreed. The two women turned to Jackie, seeking to make it unanimous, but she stalled.

“All right! And that speaks to how much I love her. I'd do it once in a while as long as I could mock them both in the morning."

"Well, that goes without saying," Aurora smirked.

“Good!! I’ll talk to her!”

“Sienna!” Aurora laughed. “We're just making conversation. I didn’t think it was an actual offer!”  

“Well, why not?” Sienna asked. “She’s only home about two nights a week now. If I happen to be working those nights, I don’t see her.”

“You act like you don’t work with her!” Jackie pointed out when the women were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming shut.

“I’ll grab the bat,” Jackie whispered.

“IT’S CASEY!” Aurora shouted. “Put the bat down, Jackie!”

“Casey! We were just talking about you! Did you eat? I can make you more waffles if you....”

But Sienna came to a halt when Casey stepped brusquely into the kitchen. With her coat still on, breathing heavily, her nostrils flaring; it was clear that food was the last thing on her mind.

“Casey?” Sienna asked cautiously.

“What did Carrick do?” Jackie snapped, still twirling the baseball bat in her hands. “I’ll kill him!”

“Jackie! Why do you automatically assume Tobias did something!” Aurora scolded before turning to Casey. “So, what did he do?”

Casey glanced at each of her friends in astonishment. After taking a shaky breath, she exclaimed, "He's rich!" Her coat fell in a crumpled heap on the kitchen floor as she turned on her heel and stormed into the living room. She threw herself onto the couch, repeating, "He's fucking rich!"

“Uhm, this is news to you?” Aurora asked.

“And... that's a bad thing?” Sienna followed.

“Leave her alone, guys,” Jackie said with what momentarily appeared to be sympathy. “It’s easy to see how she could have missed it. You know, a five-bedroom townhome in Boston, the $80,000 Jaguar and $90,000 Genesis. It’s pretty hard to tell he’s not just your average dude struggling to get by.”

Casey's eyes went wide. “That’s how much those cars cost!”

Jackie pinched the bridge of her nose with disgust. “Sometimes I question why I’m friends with you.”

Sienna glared at Jackie as she sad beside Casey. “I think what Jackie’s trying to say... in her very Jackie way... is... how didn’t you know he was rich?”

Casey leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. “Obviously, I knew he was well off. I’m not that dumb! But I figured he had successful doctor kind of money. I didn’t know he was loaded, old-money, practically 1% kind of rich!”

“Casey?” Aurora questioned. “He’s a Carrick of the DC Carricks...he is 1% kind of rich. Or at least his family is. How did you not know that?” 

"Aurora, you're rich. That might matter to people in your family's social circle. But I was a poor kid from South Philly. Back-to-school shopping meant digging through a Hefty bag of my older cousin's hand-me-downs. The Carrick family wasn't exactly on our radar."

“But you’re into politics,” Aurora countered. “His last name is Carrick. He's from DC. It never crossed your mind?”

“It’s not the most common surname, but there are more than a few Carricks in the world. So, no,” she said on the verge of tears. “It never crossed my mind.”

“Oh, boo-hoo-hoo,” Jackie interrupted. “You’ve met a hot guy who worships the ground you walk on, gives you the most incredible orgasms of your life, and he’s filthy rich. My heart aches for you, Case!"

Sienna shot Jackie another silencing glare. “What Jackie’s trying to say... in her very Jackie way... is.... how exactly is this a bad thing?”

"Guys, you know me. My family was poor; my mom's medical bills nearly destroyed us. I despise how the capitalist system works. It nauseates me that the richest 0.1% of Americans control $20 trillion in wealth while the bottom 50% only control $3.7 trillion!"

“How does she know those stats?” Jackie whispered.

“Jackie! Stop,” Casey interrupted. “The bottom line is, I’m in love with the enemy!”

“He’s not the enemy,” Aurora said with a roll of her eyes. “Really? My family is wealthy. Does that make me the enemy, too?”

“No,” Casey said, abashed. “It’s just that amount of wealth and the power that comes with it... it makes me very uncomfortable.”

“So at least no one can say you're in love with him because of his money,” Sienna offered. “That’s a good thing. But are you are in love with him, right?"

“Of course! You know how much I love him!"

“Then wouldn’t holding his wealth against him be as messed up as if he held your lack of wealth against you?” Sienna replied.

“He can’t help what family he was born to,” Aurora added. “Trust me, I know.”

“I see your point,” Casey agreed. “But it makes me so... uncomfortable. How would I even fit in in that world?”

“You fit very nicely into his world," Jackie noted. "And isn't that all that matters?"

“What will his family think of me?” Casey worried.

“You won’t know until you meet them,” Aurora stated. “But from what I hear, his mom is so happy he’s settling down, I think you’ll do just fine!"

“Have you discussed any of this with Tobias?” Jackie asked.

“No... not really. He told me he was one of the Carricks, and I sort of had a panic attack and rushed out of his place.”

“Wow," Jackie sputtered. "You handled that like a champ!”

“Jackie!” Sienna scolded. “Casey, we're always willing to listen to you, but the person you need to talk to is probably sitting home stressing out right now.”

“Yeah, his very expensive home,” Jackie offered.

"I feel like an idiot," Casey sighed. "What do I say to him now?"

"You'll figure it out," Aurora smiled. "But if I were you, I'd go back over now, don't let this fester."

~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, a weary Casey stood at Tobia's front door. Leaning against the frame, he met her with tender eyes but remained silent.

“May I come in?” she muttered, reaching to touch his hand.

“You want to?” he questioned.

“I’m here, aren't I?"

He kicked the door open, and Casey walked through, heading straight to his living room. Tobias poured two glasses of water, handed one to Casey, and then sat beside her in silence, waiting for her to speak.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“All right, but from where I stand, you have nothing to be sorry for... but I wouldn't mind an explanation.”

“Tobias, I didn't know that you were one of the Carricks. I knew you were well off, obviously, but I never thought you were, like, old-school money, and... that's difficult for me."

“Really," he half-chucked, placing his water on the coffee table. "That’s a selling point for most...”

“Well, I’m not most,” she sighed. “Tobias, I haven't gone into detail about my family, but I grew up poor. My dad had to work three jobs to keep a roof over our heads when my mom got sick, and her medical bills nearly left us on the street. I know what it’s like living in poverty and the inequities that come with it. It dictates how safe your neighborhood is if you can eat healthy foods, and god forbid you to get sick; it can literally determine who lives and dies. The system is so fucked up, and I hate it.”

“All right,” he replied calmly. "But I can see those things too.”

“Can you? Because you see those things as a spectator, I grew up in the game. I know what it's like to attend an inner-city school. My parents tried to shield me, but I'd hear my mom lying in bed in agony, and they'd put off going to the hospital because they just couldn't afford another visit. It shaped my worldview and I've wanted to do what I can to make things more equitable."

"I know," he interrupted. "And that's one of the things I admire about you."

"But, don't you see? I've always been distrusting of those with vast wealth; I'm very uncomfortable with the concept, and this isn't easy for me."

Tobias fidgeted beside her. "So, does this change how you feel about me? Do you still want to be with me?"

"Tobias, of course not! I love you, and that doesn't change, but I'm frightened. How will this impact us?"

“Personally, I don’t think it has to impact us at all unless we allow it to."

"I think that's a little naive," she said, her face beginning to falter. "Think about it, will I fit into your world?"

"Casey," he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. "You are my world."

"Tobias," she sighed.

"No, let me finish. You mean everything to me, I couldn't care less what you have or don't have. What matters to me is you and the person you are. And while I'll admit, I'm spoiled and like some luxuries, have you exactly seen me hitting up country clubs? I'm much more comfortable at a local bar or at a Red Sox game."

"Yeah," she snickered. "With your season tickets to the Red Sox."

"One of the luxuries I like," he sighed. "But that doesn't make me a bad person, Casey."

“You know, even before this, I should have seen it. How do we mesh our existence? Tobias, I shop at the discount racks at TJ Maxx. There are weeks I have $40 in my pocket until payday... the inequity between us is....”

“It’s not a problem for me.”

"But do you see, it would be easier for you," she replied with tears in her eyes. "Like if you wanted to go on vacation with me, I can't afford to go. I probably won't be able to for a long time."

"And you think I'd ask you to pay?"

"And you think I'd be OK with not paying?"

"Casey," he began, his tone turning serious, "you're the woman I love, and it's obvious you're not gold-digging here," he chuckled softly. "We can discuss how we'll handle this more, but no one has ever meant as much to me as you do. I know we're still new, but there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, and I don't expect anything in return, and I'm not about to use my money as a power play. I see you as my equal in every way, and if I haven't shown that well enough, then that's on me, and I'll do better. But please, Casey, don't let this come between us."

"Oh, Tobias," she sighed. "You've never done anything to make me feel like I'm anything less than your equal. This… this is on me. You must think I'm a reverse snob."

"Nah," he chuckled, standing up to pour them something stronger. Casey accepted the drink with a smile.

"I think you have valid concerns. Inequity within relationships can be a big thing. But I'm confident we could work through it. As I said, you're my equal."

“What about your family? Will they accept me?”

"Funny you should ask," he chuckled. "You assume my entire family is rich. My dad's side was the Carricks, but my mom's side sounds a lot like your family growing up. I was immersed in both worlds, which came with its own challenges. But I'm not blind or indifferent on this topic. As for the Carricks," he snorted and took a long drink, "We can talk all about the joys of growing up a Carrick one day. I honestly don't care what anyone thinks; you are the person I want by my side."

"You sure?"

"Casey, the family that matters to me, I know they'll love you. And even if they didn't, it wouldn't change how I feel."

Tobias shook his head and began to laugh, catching Casey by surprise.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm just thinking... I always worried someone might want me for my money. I never thought someone would dump me because of it."

Casey looked up with concern. “Oh, Tobias. No! No, no, no,” she said, hugging him tight. “I’m not leaving you. That never crossed my mind. I love you too much. But how do we make this work? We are bound to have different ideas, and what if we have a family of our own one day? This will really matter."

"Family?" He smirked. "You want a family with me? I can't even get you to officially move in with me."

Casey rolled her eyes. "I'm here all the time."

"Unofficially. I have yet to see a change of address form."

Casey playfully shoved him, and he dramatically fell back, giving her the opportunity to jump on top of him. Feeling better, she took a deep breath and nuzzled against his chest.

“Do you give a lot of money to charity?”

“Yes,” he chortled.

“Would I think it’s enough?”

“Probably not, but we can discuss that.”

“You better believe we will be if we end up... you know.”

“No," he teased. "I don't know. If we end up what, exactly?"

“Shut up," she laughed. "I love you, Tobias, and I’m sorry if I overreacted.”

“I’m sorry for being ignorant about how much this would mean to you. You're right, I’m sure there will be things we’ll have to bridge, but I think we can do anything together, baby."

"So do I," she grinned.

“Now... about this family of ours."

“Oh, God," Casey covered her face, which was turning bright red.

“Don't worry, I'll let that go for now. But, I would love to introduce you to my existing family... what do you say?”

She shifted into an upright position, her eyes meeting his. “Can I wear something from TJ Maxx?”

“You can wear whatever you want.”

“Then I suppose I should bite that bullet.”

“Nice," he smiled. "I’ll make arrangements shortly, but until then," he paused, pulling her close for a long, lingering kiss. "Can I give you something else to bite?"

Casey let out a squeal as he began to tickle her. Jumping to her feet, she rushed to the stairs. "I'll race you to your bedroom!"

"Bedroom?" he challenged. "We're all alone. We don't need to go to the bedroom."

"Bedroom!" she hollered, her voice echoing down the stairs.

"Then bedroom it is," he grinned. "I'm right behind you!"

(And a good time was had by all! lol - Thanks for reading!)

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[haveihitanerve]

Whats the Password?

“Okay B! We got the codes!” “good work… BatFam.” Bruce said into the comms. The entire brigade of batkids cheered from their respective places around Gotham. “He used it!” Steph cheered. There was a soft laugh and the others grinned, identifying it immediately as Cass’s. “B, the BatComputers on right?” Dick asked, swinging from one building to the next. “Yeah it should be.” Bruce answered, starting the Batmobile. “Oh, wait no. Actually its not. I turned it off because Al threatened to deep fry me the next time he was able to cook an omelet on it.” “the next time?” Jason asked. Bruce grimaced and tim crowed with laughter. “Oh yeah. I remember that. Never seen B so scared as the day we rolled into the Batcave to find al casually flipping an omelet. He served it to us right there. B looked so damn scared. And then i went upstairs and put in my noise canceling earplugs and went to bed.” The Batkids laughed. “No fucking way.” Jason gasped, holding his sides with laughter. Bruce sent his second oldest a look. “Anywho, whats the password then B? I assume you'll take a while.” Bruce nodded, even though they couldn't see. “Oh yeah. The password is- ~~~~~~~*static*~~~~~~~” “What did he say?” Tim asked, tapping his comm. “I dunno.” Dick answered, frowning. “Dad?” But bruces comm had cut out completely. “He said its his favorite kids name.” damian answered. “Gods how guys even survived this long without being able to hear this sort of stuff is beyond me.” he muttered. “No he didn't!” Steph said. “Theres no way!” “yes way!” Jason called. “First one to the cave gets to put in their name!” Duke called and they heard his engine rev. “Hold the fuck up!” Tim bellowed and each kid raced to the Batcave.

Tim, ultimately, got there first. “Haha! Suckers!” he stuck his tongue out at them and quickly typed in his name. Tim Drake-Wayne. ERROR. Dick grinned, shoving his brother out of the way. “Move aside. Favorite kid coming through.” He quickly typed his name in, but the keypad showed the same result. ERROR. Dick growled and handed the keypad to damian who grinned smugly, then immediately snarled when his name also didn't match. He handed it to cass who handed it to steph who handed it to Duke but none of them worked. Jason laughed. “Amatures.” He said. “Oh really?” dick scoffed. “Like it'd be your name!” Damian shot. Jason chuckled, reaching out a hand. “Try me.” Duke frowned, but handed it over. WELCOME, BATMAN The computer said, unlocking. 

When Bruce rolled into the Batcave later he had expected to find his children training, maybe cleaning up and even dining, even though he knew they would wait for him to come before eating a meal. What he did not, however, expect to find, was Dick sobbing in the corner, Duke screaming Bloody Mary at the top of his lungs, tim and damian breaking everything in sight and attempting to break each other, while Stephanie and Cass glared at Jason, who was sitting on top of the massive Bat Computer screen, grinning ear to ear. When they heard the Batmobile each of his children stopped, and slowly, like in a horror movie, they turned to look at him. “Ah.” Dick said, standing. “If it isn't the traitor.” Bruce looked between them in confusion. “Im sorry what?” he looked to Cass for help, but she turned away, nose in the air. “Tim?” But tim just glowered. “How Father?” damian seethed. “How can you allow him!” he pointed at jason, who just waved. “Him!!! The honor?” Bruce was now thoroughly confused. “Jason!” he called. “Get down here. Whats going on? Did the codes not work?” “oh they worked.” Dick sniffed, handing over the keypad. “I put them in.” Bruce nodded. “Good. Good. Now what is this all about?” He asked. Dick let out a huff, then answered. “You told us your password was your favorite child's name. So we ran back here and each of us put in our names. But it didn't work!” he glared at Bruce. “Until Jason tried it. Really? Hes your favorite? You two fight daily! Not to mention you let him die!” “woah!” bruce held up his hands. “First of all, no. Secondly, who said it was my favorite child?” Dick blinked. “You did.” Bruce shook his head. “What? No!!! I said it was my favorite ice cream. How did you get favorite child's name from that?!?!?” They all turned accusatory looks on damian. He melted slightly. “Also!” Bruce whirled on his second oldest who was now leaned against a pillar, perfectly at ease. “Jay! You were next to me when I said that! Why didn't you correct them?” Jason’s answering smile was slow. “I liked to watch them panic.” 

[welcome-to-the-end-of-eras]

Pulleyverse MCs and How They Sleep At Night

In honor of the fact that I completely conked out after work and just woke up like 20 minutes ago at 2 am :^))))

Thaniel: he has no sense of personal space in his sleep. Just full on fuckin starfish. Mori absolutely does not mind bc Human Weighted Blanket but it takes so much fucking force to make him stay on his own side when need be. He will always apologize but there is not a force on earth that can prevent him from doing it.

Mori: he's definitely a sleep talker, but the kind of sleep talker who only says some buckwild phrase/sentence once and stops until like 45 minutes later. And since he can see into the future it's even fucking weirder bc it's stuff no one has heard of yet. I just picture him in the middle of the night saying modern shit like "wacka flocka flame" out of nowhere and scaring the shit out of everyone around him.

Merrick: SNORES. This man snores so loud I know it in my bones. Growing up Charles invested in a really nice set of earplugs because he could hear his fucking snores through the walls, and even created a will at the ripe age of twelve just so he could leave those earplugs to Merrick's future spouse so they don't have to endure it as well. It is LOUD. Poor Raphael thought there was an earthquake the first time he had to sleep in the same vicinity as him and has not recovered since.

Raphael: idk why but I feel like he sometimes just sleeps with his eyes open. He has them open when he like freezes and stuff so when he goes to sleep his brain kind of interprets it the same and his eyes just end up being open. Either that or he just ends up falling asleep in really weird positions that cannot possibly be comfortable, and gets really confused in the morning when his back hurts.

Joe: he has really vivid dreams. Not just about his memories and past lives and stuff, but he once was so fully convinced that a horse was walking around on the deck of the ship because he could remember seeing one in his dream, it took like five different people on the night rotation to convince him otherwise. And even then he wasn't 100% convinced.

Missouri: no matter what size bed he's sleeping on, he always sleeps stock still like he's in a small ass twin bed. I'm talking stiff as a board, not moving an inch just in case he manages to fall off of like a queen sized bed even when he's in absolutely no danger of falling off. He also seems like the kind of person who can fall asleep standing up for some reason.

Valery: fuckin blanket stealer. Shenkov literally bought himself a second comforter because he was tired of freezing his ass off at night, and still without fail he will end up without a blanket come the morning. He also seems like the kind of person who needs to have some kind of contact with the person they're sleeping next to, and if they move he wakes up immediately and is very much worried that they now suddenly hate him. He just wants to be Cozy your honor :(

Shenkov: he's such a light sleeper that even car headlights shining through the window will wake him up, so he HOARDS melatonin and other sleeping agents like it's gold. In modern times he would have like blackout curtains, white noise machines, sleep masks, the fucking works, as well as a very elaborate bedtime routine that he sticks to religiously to make sure he can sleep for as long as possible.

Bonus Rounds!!!

Flint: he always has to read something to fall asleep. If he doesn't have something to focus on before he falls asleep he will not be able to do it bc his brain just wanders too much. Conversely, he cannot read in the daytime because it will put him to sleep no matter how interested he is in the book.

January (I'm calling my shot with this one, we'll see if I'm right or not): he seems like the kind of person who needs to wear headphones to sleep properly, but he doesn't play any kind of soothing music; on the contrary, it's very dramatic and loud music that he gets very focused on, and that's what helps him sleep.

Gale (again, calling my shot): I feel like they have such a specific and densely layered white noise setting that just puts them to sleep immediately, but if it changes even fractionally they will not be able to sleep at all. Like if one of the twelve different white noise layers gets lowered by >1% they bolt straight up in bed.

[tarotoftheendless]

Forever Waiting: Waiting for Forever 0.5 - Chapter Four

Forever Waiting

Summary:

Willie tries something new. Revelations come to light. The origin of Jules' band name is revealed.

Warnings/Tags:

Drinking alcohol. Mentions of an original character's death by unaliving themselves. An angsty fight that could feel all too familiar to those who have been in toxic controlling relationships. If I forget any warnings/tags that should be here, let me know and I will add them.

I want to thank @thoughtsfromlayla as being manned right now by the lovely @arunawayheart. Both these folks have been such an amazing help to me when writing this story. The love and encouragement I feel from the both of them is exactly what I needed to carry on with this passion project of mine.

Accounts Wanting to be Tagged:

@notyourwildestdream

If you want to join the tag list, let me know and I will tag you so you know exactly when a new chapter drops, and or new content for this project drops.

MASTER LIST/FIRST/PREVIOUS/NEXT

Chapter Title Card is done by me this time!

Chapter Four: The Promise

October 3rd, 2008

Taft, Pennsylvania

11:11pm

Jules’ POV

It's not that I don’t know he is there. It is more that I feel a sense of embarrassment go through my whole body that I am trying to suppress. Looking at him would break my resolve. I realize I just came out to Willie without having the chance to say, ‘Hey, bestie, yeah, I’m bisexual. Cool? Cool.’ 

Besides, I likely appear messy as fuck right now. Having to be at full energy fronting a band and the harshness of stage lights made me work up a sweat. The feeling of droplets making a path from my hairline down to my chin has me glad waterproof make-up exists. Willie on the other hand has this effortlessly sexy vibe to him in his red plaid hoodie and pajama pants. Always with the pajamas, but it suits him.

Feeling Willie’s eyes burning holes in the side of my face, I finally turn my attention towards him. I have to stifle a laugh as he just seems visibly uncomfortable. Shuffling closer to him, he leans away from me, his blue eyes reflecting in the low lighting, big as saucers. 

My brow knits in concern and I glance over at Dean who is filling four shot glasses of Tequila for my band and I. Willie isn’t homophobic, is he? Worry sets in as I can tell he is studying me as if I grew antlers and a tail.

Brushing off the feeling, I know that can’t be it. Willie has always been so open to new ideas that are different in the past. I call out to Dean again, “Hey, babes, pour two extra. I wanna toast with my friend here.”

Dean makes a sound that lets me know he heard me and I lean over to Willie. “You know, if it is too loud in here, you can ask the bar for earplugs.” I say close to his ear and I swear I hear him take in a sharp breath. If not for his fixation on Emma, I would think it is me affecting him, but that couldn’t be it.

Willie leans towards my ear, his stubble tickling me in a way that makes me feel warm though very differently. “Yeah, I think I’d like that. I’ll ask.” He says, his voice low, almost husky, making me just want to kiss him on the spot. When he doesn't move away from my ear, my imagination goes wild. I almost wish he would just take my earlobe between his teeth and… 

Instead, he spoke again, “I had no idea you could play like that. Jules, you’re amazing.” His breath is hot on my neck and I wonder if he even realizes what he is doing to me. His eyes dart down to my chest and part of me doesn’t know if he is looking at my sun tattoo or the claw marks. He seems like he wants to say something but I don’t give him the chance.

I lean towards his ear again. “Well, if you had written to me during high school, or I don’t know, visited, maybe you would have known that sooner, babe.” I am teasing him, but with the way he tenses up a bit, I know I struck a nerve that was still fresh for him. Feeling bad, I try to recover the low blow with a kiss to his cheek. Surprise comes over him, but he then smiles at me.

Dean then comes up to us on his side of the bar with a tray of six shots, salt, and lime wedges. He seems like he wants to say something, but another bar patron takes his attention away.

Smiling, I grab two shots, the salt, and a couple lime wedges, putting one of each in front of Willie. He cocks an eyebrow at me as he eyes the shot and then me. His quizzical expression makes me laugh. “Bitch, I want you to do a shot with me,” I shout over the noise in the pub.

Willie bites his lip. The uncertainty on his face almost makes me not catch that he has said something, though the loudness around us in the pub swallowed his words. Moving my body towards him again, I shout so he can hear me, “What?”

He moves closer to me again and says in a raised voice, “I’ve never had Tequila before.”

I can’t help but giggle. I meet his eyes with a sudden seriousness, my hand reaching for his on his lap, to which he tenses at. “Would you like to have your first shot with me then?” My thumb gently brushes the top of his hand, and I can just feel him relax to my touch.

Slowly he gestures ‘yes’ with his head, quirking a smile at me, albeit a cautious one. Whispering the instructions in his ear, Willie continues to nod his understanding. I show him to wet the top of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger with his lime wedge, then to shake some salt there from the shaker. After we are both properly salted, I ask him, “You ready, sweet summer child?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, moon child,” is his only response. With that he closes his eyes and quickly licks salt off his hand, causing me to need to catch up with how fast he is doing this. 

We both do our shots at the same time, but whereas I am more calm about it, Willie seems frazzled as he practically slams the empty shot glass down. His nose is all scrunched up along with his eyes as he tries to handle his first shot of Tequila. It is probably the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life. 

He grasps for his lime wedge, sucking it for all that it is worth. Lazily, I take my lime wedge between my lips, casually biting into it, drinking down the tart juices.

Setting my wedge on the tray of other shots I am gonna take to my bandmates in a moment, I watch Willie just completely destroy his lime wedge. Laughing, though I am concerned, I reach out to Willie again and ask, “Willie? You gonna be okay?”

Frantically he nods, though I notice a tear escaping his left eye. Seeing him like this just makes me want to take him into my arms and to kiss away any and all discomfort he may be feeling. Instead I lean close to him again and say, “Well, I gotta go back to my band. They need libations of their own and we have a few more songs to play for everyone. You sure you are gonna be okay here?”

Willie hasn’t stopped moving his head up and down to the point that I almost think it’s a tic but when he breathes out a husky ‘yes… I’m fine’, I can’t help but smile.

Seeing Dean out of the corner of my eye, I shout, “Hey, Dean, another water over here, please and thank you!”

Dean grunts in response but starts to do as I say. 

Sliding off my stool, I grab the tray of shots. Making a point to catch Willie’s gaze again, I wink at him before turning to walk through the crowd of folks all drinking and waiting for my band and I to start playing again. Smiling to myself, I swear I see Willie blush before I turn around.

Rachel and the guys – Cole my drummer and Zach my keyboardist – are standing on the side of the stage around a tall table, clearly waiting for me to come back with the shots.

“Took you fuckin’ long enough, I think I got sober just watching you flirt with the guy in, what are those, pajamas?” says Zach, who is always high or buzzed when I see him. After the one time I saw him sober, I almost preferred him under the influence.

Rolling my eyes, I set the tray on the table and set to wetting my hand with a new lime wedge.

“Yeah, Julie, who’s the hottie? Think he likes men?” Cole pipes up, twirling his long black fringe as he looks in Willie’s direction.

Rachel scoffs before I can answer and says, “That’s Willie.”

I almost take my shot before them as Cole and Zach give each other a bugged eyed look.

“That’s Willie? The Willie?” asks Cole as he leans towards me, hoping to hear all the juicy gossip.

“Yes, shit for brains, that’s Willie. And never fucking call me Julie ever again if you’d like to keep your balls, got it?” I growl at Cole. He gives me his most offended expression he can, hand over his chest and everything.

“Dean is practically glaring at your boy, Jules,” Zach informs me. I don’t need to look, I already know.

Rachel shifts so she is close to my ear. “Does he know? About you know… the sex? His name?”

Shoving Rachel away, I glare at her. “No, of course not. But I am now realizing that might be inevitable…”

Zach and Cole are holding their breath, as if they are waiting to be let in on the secret. Groaning, I grab my shot and use it to point at the both of them. “Willie is hardly my boy, Zach. He’s in love with Emma, remember? And as for Dean? Well, he likes to think he owns me, but he doesn’t. I’ve got it handled. Just drop it.”

Both Cole and Zach put their hands up in surrender while Rachel is giving me an ‘uh huh, sure…’ look. Choosing to ignore her, I raise my shot.

“We have a kick-ass show to put on, guys, let’s take our shots and fucking do just that!” I shout, encouraging them to toast with me.

The boys relent, and get ready to take their shots with me. Rachel is slow to commit to the bit. When she finally concedes, her wary stare burns a hole between my eyes.

The DJ MC is hyping us up again and I know that’s our queue to hurry the fuck up.

“Suicidal Wyrms!” I chant, downing my shot. The others follow suit, exclaiming with me. We suckle our limes and then make our way back to the stage with the crowd cheering us on.

The guys get into position, Rachel hands me my guitar and I slip the strap back onto my shoulder. Striding up to the mic, my fingers wrap around the pole of it, my lips touching the surface with a smile.

“Awww! Did you miss us?” I ask in my most sultry voice, which was met with an instant roar of applause.

“I suppose we have a few more songs to play for y’all, right guys?” I ask my band and they all give me their affirmative answers in the form of shouts and whistles.

“Well, y’all better be in the dancing mood, or really just the mood, ‘cause we are about to crank up the fucking heat!” With that Cole starts the beginning drum sequence for ‘Blue Monday’, our own synthy metal cover.

Letting myself get lost in the music, my focus is more on giving the crowd a performance that they will remember in the weeks, if not months to come. I handle my electric guitar as if she is my baby and the mic as if it is my lover. The perfect balance of leading my band in the dark sexual spell we are weaving and lulling the people into submission with our witchcraft. The sensual movements of my body are very much intentional.

My guitar solo is where my mind wanders for a moment. Closing my eyes as the flashing red and blue lights move back and forth across the stage, my thoughts are filled with Willie. In my head, I see the vignette of Dean and I from earlier, but instead of it being Dean, Willie is in his place. 

Shock courses through me so hard that it brings me back to the present moment as I finish my guitar solo. The crowd is cheering and dancing. Shaking off the feelings I was having, I usher my band towards the end of the song.

After playing a few more songs with so much energy that I am sweating harder than before, I pause for dramatic effect, allowing the audience to praise us.

“We have one more song for you before Mike, our fan-fucking-tastic DJ, takes over for the rest of the evening! Thank you so much for having us back here to play for y’all! It’s been fucking real!” I shout into the mic and the crowd erupts.

My eyes meet Rachel’s and she nods. The weight of many unspoken emotions come to the surface as I let my guitar fall slack on my shoulder, trying to center myself as I breathe in, ready for the fall that was surely about to follow.

“If you need a friend, don’t look to a stranger! You know in the end, I’ll always be there! And When you’re in doubt, and when you’re in danger, take a look all around, and I’ll be there!” I begin, following Zach’s intro on the keyboard. Cole comes in with Rachel after that in our more emotional arrangement of this song.

“I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say!” I sing. Holding the mic with both hands, my eyes close and I feel everything all at once as words fall from my lips.

“I promise you!” Rachel sings back up, strumming her bass in rhythm.

“I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to be!” My voice almost quivers but I hold the notes.

“I promise you!”

“But if you wait around awhile, I’ll make you fall for me!”

“I promise you!”

“I promise, I promise you, I will!”

My eyes remain closed. The fear of them finding Willie’s across the bar, even with the lights flashing in my face, grips the very heart of me. Will he know that I am singing about us? What I have always hoped for and felt? I hope so… but also I hope not. He is so pure and beautiful and I feel like I am just too broken for him to even want.

Zach, Rachel and Cole are accompanying me perfectly, allowing all of us to feel the raw emotion of the music. The audience is captivated. As I reopen my eyes, I can see many have taken out lighters and are holding them up for us.

“I gotta tell ya! Need to tell ya! Gotta tell ya! I’ve gotta tell ya!” I belt as I feel a tear fall from the corner of my eye, bleeding in with the sweat from the heat of the stage lights.

We finish out our last song and the crowd is riotous. Their vigor snaps me out of my emotions for a moment.

“Thank y’all for being such a fucking rad audience! We’re Suicidal Wyrms! Have a fuckin’ good night!” I yell into the mic as another round of applause begins.

Rachel and the guys are already getting gear together to start to take our instruments off the stage. I notice Dean storm out from behind the bar looking angry as fuck as he heads to the side door towards the alley.

I hand Rachel my guitar, which earns me a questioning look. “Dean’s pissed… again.” I offer as an explanation. Rachel rolls her eyes when I brush past her down the stage steps. We both know what this is likely about.

Pushing through the crowd, who seem to be content to shift their attention to their drinks and whatever music the DJ has put on, I attempt to make my way to the side door to follow after Dean.

“Jules!” I hear to my left and I realize it is Willie yelling to get my attention.

Stopping in front of the door, Willie catches up with me, almost out of breath. He takes out an earplug. I guess he asked the bar, likely Dean, for a pair after all.

“Yes, Willie? I’m a bit busy at the moment…” I start but he interrupts me.

“Yeah… about that… I think something I said might have upset the bartender. Is he your boyfriend?” Willie whisper-shouts into my ear to be heard over the DJ’s music.

Scoffing, I whisper-shout back, “Fuck no, Dean just likes to think he owns me, that’s all.”

Reaching out, Willie’s fingertips touch the top of the claw marks on my chest, causing me to pull away an inch. His eyes study the bruises, then my tattoo, only to finally meet my gaze. “Is that what that is?” He asks with sadness in his voice.

“Willie, go home. It’s late and I have too much to fucking deal with right now rather than worrying about you judging me on who I spend my time with.” It comes out more harsh than I mean it to. I see that same shock and hurt wash over Willie as I did back in the summer of 1999.

Before Willie can say a word, I open the door that leads to the alley, walking through it. It slams shut on his face. If I had dared to look back, I know I would have seen concern and worry painting his features.

The air is a bit cooler outside now that it is after midnight. Dean is pacing back and forth by my band’s van, cigarette in hand, bottle of whiskey in the other.

“Were you ever gonna tell me? Huh? Jules? Were you ever gonna fucking tell me?” Dean seethes as he paces, taking a drag, then a swig, not meeting my eyes.

Opening the passenger side door of the van, I fish out a lighter and pack of Camels. Not my favorite brand, but it will do. Lighting up my own cigarette, I close the van door, then lean up against it. Sighing out a plume of smoke, I know I don’t need to ask what he means, but I ask anyway. “Tell you what, Dean?”

Taking another hit, Dean is practically sneering at me. “Do you really think I am that fucking stupid, Jules? Huh? You are such a fucking bitch, you know that?” He tips back the whiskey bottle, gulps down more than a shot before he continues. “Willie? That guy out there, that you were getting all cozy with right in front of me? He told me his name is Will Donner. That’s Willie, right? The fucking name you moan like a bitch in heat every time you cum on my fucking cock? He’s a real fucking person and you didn’t have the balls to fucking tell me before I had the pleasure of meeting the jack-off himself!”

Dean just goes off, not letting me say a word. The moment he almost throws the bottle of whiskey at the brick wall across from him is when I leap into action to take the bottle from him.

“You just had to grab the most expensive bottle, didn’t you? Jack is gonna be pissed that he’ll have to replace it so soon,” I say, trying to defuse the situation. Dean gives me a look of disgust as he pulls away from me, leaving me with the whiskey.

Taking a drag and then a swig with the bottle, I sigh. “I wasn’t expecting you two would even talk, Dean.”

“Are you fucking serious? Even the bouncer knew he was supposed to be here and you knew I was working tonight! Are you that fucking selfish?” Dean snaps as he gets in my face, glaring down at me. 

I would have kissed him and fucked him right in this alley, but Dean struck a nerve. “Selfish? I’m selfish? Fuck you, Dean! You are fucking half the women that are in there and you are calling me selfish? That’s so fucking rich coming from you!”

“Those women are nothing!” Dean taunts.

“Do they know that? Jesus, fuck Dean, why does it fucking matter if Willie is a real person?” I ask, taking another drink from the bottle. I did not want to be sober anymore.

“Because you want him! Don’t even fucking deny it! You want him!”

“Why does that matter?”

“You don’t want me!”

Hearing Dean say that takes me aback. Taking a drag, I breathe out the smoke before I answer him. “No, I don’t want you. I never did, Dean. That was the point.”

He gets closer to me, his eyes almost pleading with me as he gazes down at me. “You love him, don’t you?”

I am too stunned to speak. Dean steps away, breaking eye contact, making a sound of bored annoyance. “Guess that’s my answer then. Fuck.” He takes another hit, blowing out the smoke.

Pressing my back up against the van again, I watch Dean carefully. “Why do you even want me, Dean? We had an agreement. No attachment.”

He sighs, his blue eyes meet mine. “Because you don’t want me. It’s refreshing.” Finishing his cigarette, he drops the butt onto the ground, putting it out with the heel of his boot. “You know what, Jules? Lose my number. And don’t look for me.” He says as he starts to walk away down the alley, ditching the rest of his shift.

I am left there in the alley, on this cool October night, with a bottle of whiskey. “Fuck it,” I say to myself, bringing the opening of the bottle to my lips, and beginning to chug. The burn both hurts and feels good. If I can’t fuck my way out of this, I can at least not be sober anymore. ************************************************************************

Sunday, June 13th, 1999

Taft, Pennsylvania

2:13pm

Jules’ POV

Willie had just gotten back into town the day before, but much of the excitement was dampened by the fact that it was still raining yesterday. The rain only let up a couple hours ago, and the heat started to set in.

Joey wasn’t interested in going outside as Dee was gonna come over to watch a movie with him in a bit, but he had suggested that Willie and I get some fresh air if we were feeling that restless.

Of course, Willie had written both Joey and I all year, especially after what happened had happened, but we haven’t really talked-talked about much of anything out loud since the summer before.

My dad had almost tried to cancel Willie’s summer with us, telling his aunt and uncle that we were all still grieving. Dad rarely listened to me anymore, hell, he couldn’t even look at me anymore. However, I had overheard Joey tell dad that it would break my heart more if Willie didn’t stay with us this summer.

 I didn’t really like Joey speaking for me, but he was right. The loneliness I had been feeling for months had eased some when Willie had shown up. He hadn’t said a word, just took me into his arms, whispering to me that it was okay if I cried. I didn’t cry though. I just breathed Willie in, letting his very scent calm me down.

Now we were walking around the neighborhood, both of us in shorts, tank tops, and flip flops. My hair was in a messy bun, though I wanted to shave my head entirely because of how hot it suddenly had become. Willie’s hair was shaggy and a mess, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about putting my fingers through it.

We walked in silence for a long while, just doing laps. I don’t think either of us knew what to say. Willie had lost both his parents, so I knew he understood to some extent how I was feeling. He also seemed to understand that this was affecting me much differently than his loss had affected him. Willie was trying to be as considerate as possible, given the circumstances.

After lap five, his hand found mine, and I truly thought that was his way of letting me know that he knew I was in my head too much. It made my heart tighten in my chest. He was trying to be an anchor for me like I had always been for him. If I could have fallen any more in love with him, I would have.

When he decided to break the silence, it almost startled me. “Have you noticed all the burned up worms on the road? What’s that about?”

I almost laughed at the innocence of the topic. “Well, they likely were enjoying the moisture of the rain on the asphalt, but when the sun came out, the droplets magnified and fried them.” I stated matter-of-factly.

Willie considered my answer and then said, “Surely, they had to know that would happen. Unless of course they did know and they were suicidal.”

The moment he had said the word, we both tensed up, stopping in our tracks on the sidewalk.

“Jules, I…” Willie started but I finally just broke, falling to my knees on the sidewalk, sobs racking through my body uncontrollably. 

Willie dropped to his knees next to me, wrapping me up in his arms. My head tucked up under his chin and he kissed the top of my head as he held me. He didn’t tell me to shush though, or that I would be okay. He just kept saying ‘I know, I know, I know,’ over and over again. And he was right. He did know this kind of pain.

As my sobs started to lighten up, we both fell into silence for a few minutes. Not only was my face wet and my eyes raw, but we both felt a bit sweaty just holding each other in the middle of the sidewalk,

“I’m sorry about your mom, Jules,” Willie finally whispered to me.

My lips still against his now very damp tank top, I said, “I know, Willie, I know.”

He held me for a couple more minutes before we let each other go. He stood first, offering his hand to me to help pull me to my feet. Intertwining our fingers, we continued to walk down the sidewalk hand in hand.

“Suicidal worms? That’d make an awesome band name.” I finally said, thoughtfully.

Willie seemed stunned at first that I could just say that casually after breaking down like I had. Though when he saw me smiling at him, even if that smile didn’t quite reach my eyes, he relaxed a bit, smiling back at me.

“Yeah? I heard your music lessons were going well.”

Blushing, I asked, “Where did you hear that from?”

Willie laughed and said, “Joey told me, in his letters to me. I’m not sure why you’re embarrassed by it, Joey says you’re a natural.”

“Joey’s full of shit most of the time,” I blew Willie’s comment off.

Willie stopped us on the sidewalk again and caught my gaze. “Jules, don’t dismiss your gifts like that. If there is one thing you got from your mom, it’s her musical talent. Honor her memory by owning that for yourself.”

It was my turn to be stunned. We were only fourteen years old and here Willie was speaking with wisdom beyond his years. I wanted to lean in and kiss him, but I didn’t. He was only focusing on me right now because my mom was dead. If it wasn’t for that, he would be gushing about Emma.

I don’t speak, but I nodded my acceptance of his words, hoping that would be enough for him to believe. He seems to take it and let us walk on, still hand in hand.

“You’ll have to play for me one day, Jules.”

“If I am half as good as you assume I am, Willie, maybe I will.”

MASTER LIST/FIRST/PREVIOUS/NEXT

[phobia-sweets]

Okay, so how would different villains react to a vigilante reader doing this to them in the middle of a fight

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRbq6LVV/

Also I absolutely adore your fic and writing, please and thank you, and have an amazing day

used the freedom of getting to choose myself to practice writing music meister :3

(also im glad(?) to inform you i got that video on my fyp like two hours after getting this request lmao)

OH AND THANKYOU THAT MEANS A LOT i hope you also have a good day!!!

General! Music Meister & Firefly x reader

Warnings & Notes: None?? i got carried away w firefly, not proofread (reader is a bit dumb at the end of firefly's part lmao)

MUSIC MEISTER

During your time as a vigilante, you had learned to always bring earplugs wherever you went, just in case if you bumped into him.

“You do know your trick doesn’t work on me, right?” You chuckled, adjusting your domino mask. The music meister – or Darius, had taken control of the Gotham city opera house, where the both of you currently were. Luckily for you there were no civilians present when he took control – except for some guards, Who had left – leaving you alone with him.

“One of these days, you will be the one to do my bidding” he started, “It’ll be just a matter of time.”

Now, technically taking care of him without anyone to control should be easy, but you didn’t really want to hurt him. But then again, What were the chances there actually were people there being controlled, but just hiding, waiting for you to attack? You wouldn’t put it past him to plan that, he was quite smart. “Why won’t you just be good for once and give up voluntarily?” You suggested, and was met with him chuckling. “If you won’t, I still have a card up my sleeve.”

“Oh?”

You walked closer to him, To which he didn’t react – planning something? Were you playing into a plan he had in his head? Fuck it, you already started going through with this, may as well go for it. You were maybe a meter away from him when you practically jumped up to him, placing a kiss on his lips. He made a sound of surprise, eyes wide as he looked at you, a sweet red creeping up to his cheeks.

Then you handcuffed him. “Sorry, Darius.”

GARFIELD LYNNS

Adding a cape to your uniform was one of the purely aesthetic choices you made. In your defense, capes were really cool. Unfortunately, They could be very inconvenient when they got stuck. Especially when there was a specific pyromaniac trying to immolate you. Trying to pull your cape from under some barrels that had fallen, you heard him -

“There’s going to be nothing but ash left when I’m done with you!” Firefly yelled, sharply inhaling as he landed a few feet away from you and adjusting his grip on his flamethrower. You turned to quickly look at your utility belt, spotting the butterfly knife on its usual spot. Turning to face Firefly, you sighed,

“We’re not done yet.” You straightened your back, watching as he walked closer. You took the knife, making sure he didn’t see it and starting to cut your cape off.

He laughed. “You will burn with gotham tonight-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me that quite a few times already.” You interrupted him, and regretted it almost immadietly when you felt the warmth of the flames from the flamethrower come dangerously close as he fired it for just a second.

“Any last words, hero?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, “before I melt your face off?”

“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Heh heh, Too bad.” He laughed. You needed time. You knew that. If you didn’t find a way to either keep him talking or catch him off guard, you’d be as good as dead.

“Wouldn’t you prefer a nice slow burn over an explosion?” You questioned, Motioning to the barrels of… What ever was in them. You didn’t know, but it probably wouldn’t mix well with fire.

He stopped. Probably considering whether to blow you up or burn you. You cut the last bit of fabric off of your cape, free to move. Lunging towards Firefly, you pushed away his flamethrower, one risk taken care of. Now you just had to restrain him. You needed to catch him offguard. So you almost instinctively tried to place a kiss on his lips, but was met with the cold surface of his helmet. But hey, it worked. He stumbled backwards and you seized the opportunity to tackle him to the ground and tie his hands together.

“I could’ve taken my helmet off for that, hot stu-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[girlreviews]

Review #293: Last Splash, The Breeders

FUUUUUUUCK I love this record, but it permanently damaged the hearing in my right ear. I caught their show at Blackheath Hall in 2005. I put myself right at the front because I really loved them that much and I wanted — no, needed — to feel the heaving guitar in my chest, it felt like, to even continue on. I was seventeen so you know, everything felt a bit extra. I might as well have been hugging the PA system. Anyway, I didn’t anticipate what would happen during the part in Cannonball where Kim sings (yells) “WANT YOU, LITTLE CUCKOO” into the harmonic mic with all that distortion. Yeah, it’s loud. It’s so loud. My eardrum burst. I’ve had tinnitus ever since. My poor left eardrum suffered the same fate two weeks later at the Reading Fez (RIP), during a Mew show. Respectable, but so much less cool than its audio peeper partner in crime. Wear earplugs my friends. It’s not a joke.

Kim Deal founded The Breeders while The Pixies were on hiatus. Well that’s not true, she had been doing both but never able to focus on The Breeders, until 1993 when went Frank Black abruptly announced The Pixies hiatus live during an interview without informing the other band members first. The hiatus was kind of due burnout from recording three albums in two years and touring the hell out of them. Really though, Kim was not getting along with Frank. Here’s the thing — nobody really gets along with Frank. I love the Pixies. I do. But I will get into a fist fight with anyone who wants to insist that they’re better than The Breeders. They’re not. And the thing is, everyone has listened to The Pixies, while most of those same people haven’t given Kim and her band the same time of day. And you know why that is? Because they’re women who are playing heavy rock music. That’s all there is to it. I won’t hear anymore about it, I won’t say anymore about it and I’m not gonna fucking argue with you or anybody else about it. I’m right. Frank Black is a man, he fronts a band, so he gets paid more attention and listened to, and his shitfuck behavior gets dismissed as creative genius. The songs are great but that doesn’t mean you’re not an asshole, Frank! I’ll die on this hill but I’ll also throw hands before I do. Come at me.

I present to you, No Aloha, which actually, beautifully illustrates my point. It is also both beautiful and knockout punch effortlessly cool. It’s dreamy, and also like “we’re here to fuck shit up”. How can I express that it’s lovely and also ass kicking in its vague but biting commentary on being a woman in the music industry, and trying to make it in a band made up of all women (I think they’ve had a dude drummer in their line up from time to time to be fair, but still). It’s about how people that gave her the time of day during her Pixies tenure don’t give a shit about her now “No bye, no aloha, gone with a rock promoter” and how the perils of womanhood impact her creative output “motherhood means mental freeze, freezeheads, no aloha”. Think about what no aloha means. No hello. No goodbye. The disrespect. Ugh. Fuck yes to putting this out there unabashedly.

Obviously, Cannonball, the song that exploded my right ear, is iconic. If you don’t immediately recognize its bassline then I regret to inform you that you need to brush up on your general pop culture knowledge and you stand literally no chance of ever placing at any kind of trivia night. But most importantly, where have you been, and what have you been doing? And are you okay? Genuinely, you’re missing out. The whole thing about them is that musically they are just making some NOISE, and rocking so hard, but Kim’s voice is also so gentle and smooth. Like warm molten wax, or thick maple syrup and butter soaking into a perfect pancake. And she’s harmonizing with her own twin sister, who has the same voice? It’s too many textures but they’re polar opposites. It overwhelms and soothes at the same time. It’s quite an experience. So get it in your ears already.

There are some really lo-fi dulled down tracks, that are really tender and only a band of women could make them. Do You Love Me Now? Literally a low energy bass-led ballad earnestly asking someone if they want to get back together. It’s heart on sleeve girl bravery: I still love you and I don’t care if this doesn’t work out for me, I’m gonna say it. Such a poignant question, followed by a command:

“Does love ever end?

When two hearts are torn away?

Or does it go on?

And beat strong anyway?

You’ve loved me before

Do you love me now?

Come on come on come back to me

Right now”

It finishes with this cascade of harmonies. And I adore it.

My favorite track, and favorite story. Drivin’ on 9. A little ditty! Who doesn’t love a ditty? Again I need to talk about Kim’s voice. It’s like. It’s like. What is it like? When you toast a marshmallow and then squish it between a graham cracker and melted chocolate. It’s like, a smooth whiskey, probably (I don’t like whiskey). It’s like a tiny bird just landed on your hand for the briefest moment. It’s so delicate and precious and you don’t know how such a voice comes out of anyone’s mouth, but especially not hers, because she’s so tough and cool. The strings in the song make me want to die in the best way. Like when people say they died and went to heaven. They pluck it AND they use the bows. Why do I love it so much? Probably because it’s a song about driving and thinking. That’s my favorite thing to do.

“Drivin’ on 9

Lookin’ out my windowsill

Wonderin’ if I want you still

Wonderin’ what’s mine”

I last saw them play at Cannery Ballroom, and the most wonderful thing(s) happened. Firstly, they played this track, so I was happy to begin with. But there was some issue, like one of the violins was missing or broken or not able to be mic’d up correctly or something, I forget. So, Kelley Deal SANG the violin solo. And got it dead on. I cried. These women are just the coolest to ever do it.

I write these reviews because I fundamentally have a problem with the makeup of music critics being made up of men. And I notice looking back how these records and tracks are interconnected with trash men who have acted trash to me or others. I have things to say. I take issue with how they’re written as though their subjective opinions are gospel to be consumed as objective fact. This dynamic can make or break someone’s career when it’s their art and creative output that they’ve poured their heart and soul into. It’s no coincidence that music overall, but rock and alternative music in particular is made up of majority white men, too. Some with self-proclaimed “good taste” can just label it good or bad when it’s not necessarily made for someone that looks like them. These reviews are my experience and my opinion and it’s okay with me if you do or don’t agree, if you love a record that I hate, or if you hate a record I love. But more voices are important and remembering that they’re subjective opinions is pretty fucking important. Hearing someone’s passion (or lack of) about a record is more valuable than hearing their self-importance or gravitas. The Rolling Stone Top 500 is fundamentally flawed in how it’s compiled because of who it’s compiled by, and so I’m deconstructing it one review at a time, noting that as a white woman, the addition of my voice isn’t the full answer or even a big part of the answer. But like I said, I have things to say, and I hope if you have things to say, whoever you are, you’ll share too. But here we are: it’s just proving my point. I’ll be writing one review of The Breeders, but two for The Pixies.

I’m just doing what Kim did when she got sick of the bullshit with Frank Black and The Pixies and decided to do it her way. Nowhere near as loud, nowhere near as cool, and I expect your eardrums will survive my reviews in tact.

Signing off with these words from my favorite “girl” band:

“I see a boy I know

His hair's on fire

The whole world I discovered

If you're so special, why aren't you dead?

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

Wave bye bye

Cus it ain’t never coming down now”

[star--anon]

I'm bored, let's talk Thominho

1, 2 (not necessary to reading this one; they're all just scrambled headcanons)

Thomas draws in his spare time. Is just constantly doodling. Carries a ballpoint pen in his pocket everywhere he goes. Fancy restaurant? He's doodling the food on the napkin. Mountain hike? He's doodling the sunset on his hand. Car crash? He's doodling the wreckage on the airbag.

prefers charcoal drawings. He says everything's simpler in black and white.

There's hundreds of charcoal drawings of Minho in the attic (where Thomas works). Minho mutters that they're creepy, but his ears will also get really blushy whenever he sees one.

Minho doodles little mazes in his spare time. He's getting increasingly better at them (once bought a puzzle book for adults just to study how they drew mazes). His goal is to paint an entire mural, but he has to find the right design to paint first. Anything he's drawn so far, Thomas has cracked in under an hour.

Thomas secretly loves waking up and having Minho slap ten pounds of paper on his face like "Solve these."

The attic to their house has slowly evolved into their art studio. Minho goes up there to play bass guitar sometimes. Thomas can feel tremors in the walls when he does.

...Hmm.

Minho manages to live with it most of the time, but there are days when he wakes up and can't handle the disorientation of only being able to hear out of his right ear. Sometimes he slips on his hearing aids (he's not the biggest fan of that thing), and other times he puts in an earplug in his right ear and lets the rest of the world fall away. Then he scurries up to the attic and plays bass guitar for hours.

or he sits next to Thomas and half-daydreams half-watches him bloom a portrait from charcoal.

Thomas is a crazy bit in love with tea.

All their friends have, at some point, asked Minho what his boyfriend wants for Christmas/his birthday. Tea leaves. The answer is always tea leaves.

One time Minho brought home a cute teacup set from his work trip and Thomas basically tackled him with a hug

Minho tries to keep a backyard garden?? I can't get this out of my mind. Starts out nurturing little flowers and is fucking devastated when they die. Literally sobbing into his pillow T^T

just picture Thomas rolling up his sleeves aboutta throw hands with nature. He is going to garden the fuck out of them flowers

anyway Thomas and Minho now have a thriving backyard. Minho handles most of the physically challenging work like soil-turning and weeding and driving Thomas to the seed shops, meanwhile Thomas is researching how to stop plants from dying all the time

Flowers for bees 'nd butterflies, tomatoes, spring onions, etc.

Thomas makes the best soup. And yes, of course, they use their own home-grown ingredients. More than once, he has had to fight Minho away from the pot though.

"Minho it's not even done-" "Soup." "Let me at least put it in a bowl first-" "Soup."

Minho refuses to apologize. It's good soup.

[saunne]

I finally got an appointment to get my hearing tested ! Yay !

It's not before July ! Less yay but still yay !

Honestly, this is such a weird journey for me. Not as "bad" as the whole gender transition thing, but because I never thought that what I was feeling hearing-wise wasn't considered "normal".

Until I was actually straight up told that it wasn't, in fact, normal.

And it's a bit of a weird thing, this feeling of "normality" that we can have about one of our senses and that we don't imagine being different from those around us. Especially when we tell ourselves that if everyone is like us / we are like everyone else so then it makes you go like "everyone feels as uncomfortable as me, I'm just bad at dealing with it" or "maybe it's me who's exaggerating and it's not that painful ?" or even “I might just be a little sensitive, but nothing to worry about”.

Well actually, moron, yes ? Do worry about it ???

Because no, a screaming child isn't supposed to send you into a panic attack ? No, you aren't supposed to hear the clock across the room as if you were standing in it ? No, being unable to understand the conversation of your table neighbors but being able to follow the conversation three tables away without problem is not normal ? No, asking to turn down the sound on the television or radio four times in fifteen minutes is not normal ? No, wanting to live in a bubble of white noise where everything is attenuated because even the quiet is noisy is not “normal” behavior either ?

And so, diagnosis here I come. In the meantime, however, I try not to adopt too many bad habits, particularly in terms of the "bubble of silence" by wearing my headphones or my noise-canceling earplugs all the time.

That's what worries my mother the most to be honest. Not that I have hyperacusis, that I have to be diagnosed with something unexpected again, or that I'm going to become her even weirder weird child, no. It's that now that I know that what I'm feeling isn't normal, I'm actually starting to overcompensate for the problem that according to her, wasn't a problem. Because after all, I lived very well before, right ?

Except no, actually, I wasn't living well before. I tolerated it before, because for me it was "normal". That was how everyone felt and it would have been stupid to complain about something that I seemed to be the only one struggling with.

But there's actually a difference between "Gods, this baby's loud aren't they ?" and "God, this baby is so loud it feels like my brain is trying to leak out my eardrums and that someone is scraping their nails in my skull and someone please shuts them up before I throw myself by the damn window".

But now that I know my hearing is, in fact, weird ? Well, I'm going to do a very French thing and I'm going to fucking complain about it.

It hurts, it shouldn't hurt, someone make the world less "too much" and fix my shitty hearing, please and thank you.

My psychiatrist is hilariously of the same opinion and after the neuropsychiatrist who clearly marked in my file "please stay in therapy", my psychiatrist is now "please, go start this new therapy before developing bad coping habits now that your brain knows it can complain".

I'm not out of the wood, far from it, but at least the journey is interesting.

[404entity]

I'm so frustrated and upset. I don't understand why I can't just deal with this.

I have really bad noise sensitivities to body sounds and breathing things, I always have but it's been so bad in my relationship because my partner snores really bad, and when it isn't snoring it's long drawn out groans. It's so overstimulating and makes my throat feel tight and all my muscles tight. Once I'm aware of it, I cannot stop hearing it and it gets louder and louder and harder for me to ignore. I've tried everything I possibly can to deal with it; I've tried earplugs, I've tried playing videos to hide it, I've tried wearing headphones and earbuds and blasting shit through those, I've tried nudging them and getting them to change positions but nothing helps and it only serves to frustrate me further. I have resorted to sleeping in a different room for the past couple years, but things have gotten so much fucking worse in the last 6 or 8 months and I don't know why. It's constant noise all night every night. I've gotten about two hours of sleep tonight and was forced to leave the bedroom at 6am today, which makes me feel not only heartbroken but also extremely ill. This has been every single night for me and we've moved into a new apartment last month, so I have nowhere else to lay except the floor in the office. It's extremely painful with my disability but I have no choice. We can't afford a couch right now, hell we have $60 to carry us through the next two weeks so we can't really buy much food either. The worst part of it all is I start a new job next week that is the same hours as theirs, and I can't sleep at night. I'm so fucking miserable. I've been crying almost every day because I'm unable to get enough rest. The only thing I think I can do is to sleep when my partner isn't, which deeply saddens me, because that means we will not get to spend any time together during these times. I'll have to do this until we can afford a couch or something for me to sleep on at night. I just want to sleep in my own bed. I've been trying to sleep on the floor pretty much since we moved in but it's so fucking painful to the point where it feels like my organs are being crushed and I have gotten physically sick a couple times from trying. This feels so unfair, because it feels like my health and needs come second. I've tried to switch out a couple of times and make them sleep on the floor on the really bad nights but the guilt has been so crippling that I couldn't even sleep when I had the bed. I hate sleeping alone. I hate being forced to leave my own bed because of noise sensitivities. I hate being perpetually exhausted and not being able to fix it. I hate being awake all night and sleeping all day. I don't know what to do or what I can do, because the only thing that seems to be somewhat working is removing myself from my own bed and resorting to either the agony of trying to sleep on the floor or the mental torment of shame and guilt while I wait for my turn in the bed.