#i mean obviously they keep searching for Cooper but

[bbc-trolls]

No no I know but wouldn't it just make so much sense if while the Funk Royal parents are searching for their missing egg they instead find a wandering grey Pop trolling in the wilderness they would be like "cool, the universe sent a free son"

[4sh-n4]

Scenario for a Batman Identity Reveal™-

Takes place before Batman has revealed his identity. The rest of the JL know each other's identities, except Batman's. They've just received news of a threat against Bruce Wayne.

Maybe a rogue or an intergalactic enemy or someone has found out that Bruce Wayne funds a majority of the League and thinks that killing him will severely weaken it. Fair enough, I mean it's easier to kill a civilian known to be an idiot as compared to the greatest heroes, right?

So now obviously the JL feel obligated to protect him. They don't particularly want to do it, and usually they'd just set up police protection, but everyone knows how corrupt Gotham police are, and Wayne is being targeted bc of them. They'd ask Batman, but he only comes out at night and has publicly expressed disdain for Bruce. So they've got to do it themselves.

They take it in shifts, and while Wayne seems very welcoming on the outside, it's a little obvious that he doesn't want them poking around his house. In addition, the first night they were on shift, Batman gave them a very strict warning about what is and isn't allowed in his city. He tried to get them to leave, but they overruled him.

At first, Bruce spends all his time acting like an air headed idiot, flirting with everyone that tries to talk to him and refusing to cooperate bc he doesn't believe the threat. 'Coincidently', he's always in the room every time one of them try to talk to talk to any of his children.

Then as time passes, he lets his guard down. They start to see a gentle, kind, Bruce Wayne whose children are his entire world, not token trophies. He speaks in a soft voice, one made out of cotton and clouds. He cares about the underprivileged in Gotham and genuinely works to make life better for them. He's smart and actually involved in his company. He's also incredibly slippery and tries very very hard to lose their tail at all times. The only reason they can keep up with him at all is because most of them have special powers.

One day, while they're trying to look for him after he's lost them yet again, he gets kidnapped. The entire JL rushes to find him and rescue him before the person they've come to honestly respect and enjoy the company of gets murdered for trying to help them. They search for and reach the place he's being held after 2 days, only to find him tying up the criminals- who definitely all have broken bones- surrounded by the horde of younger Gotham vigilantes.

He turns to look at them and growls, "You're late. Civilian rescue time needs to be much shorter, these people weren't even experienced kidnappers. You're lucky it was me they were after otherwise you'd have found a corpse. We're running drills back at the watchtower."

They're all shocked because... that's Batman's voice?? Coming from the richest man alive, known playboy, not so known gentle father, BRUCE WAYNE??? BATMAN HASN'T EVEN BEEN OFF DUTY SINCE THEY BECAME BRUCE BODYGUARDS????

Turns out his children all ganged up on him and forced him to reveal his identity, especially since the JL had become friends with him both inside and outside the mask.

[alienwithobsessions]

Scenario I can't get out of my head:

THE GHOUL

- Reader has her period while wandering alone through the wasteland. Cramps get so bad she falls to the ground in the open. She's also dehydrated, so she passes out.

Cooper finds her and can smell the blood, so obviously ferals will too. He decides to hide her somewhere until he can figure out what to do with her.

Examination of his discovery, covers her with his coat to mask the smell of human and blood, internal thought process, pros and cons, memories of wife's periods, how can he help, why should he. Decides to keep her alive for a while longer.

Reader awakens, confusion, shock, fear. *cramps* Cooper is gruff but not too mean, sarcastic but understanding.

Some talking, explanations of what, why, where she's headed to. Decide to get her help (find pain relieving drugs and/or safe way to hide the smell of blood, like tampons if they still exist).

Search isn't successful, it's dangerous (even come across feral or 2).

Eventually...Cooper offers a way to relieve her cramps and mask the smell of blood...he fingers her for the former, p in v for the latter.

[albatmobile]

parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar pt. 2

[1] [2] [3] coming soon: [4] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 8k includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, masturbation, public sex, caught, fingering, voyeurism, come swallowing, facial, deep throating misunderstandings, confessions

𓅪 cam girl fem!reader x jason todd, cam girl fem!reader x roy harper, cam girl fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

After your wild night out, you’re not expecting to be approached by Roy- Mr. Harper, you correct yourself.

“It doesn’t feel right with me knowing,” he says, clearly panicked when he paces into your classroom as soon as you open the door for him.

“Well, hello to you too, Mr. Harper,” you say. You rub at your temple, feeling a headache stirring. 

You follow behind his quick gate, stopping yourself just barely from laughing as he plops into the small kid chair that sits in front of your desk. You move to sit behind your desk, noting how you’re suddenly an inch or so taller than him in your position. 

You’re wearing a tight, white v-neck, long sleeve bodysuit over top form-fitting professional pants, red heels and your signature glasses. The low-cut top leaves Mr. Harper at eye level with your lofty cleavage, something he evidently becomes distracted by. He shakes himself from it quickly enough, though, to focus back on your confused face.

He seems to disregard your words as if too lost in his own head.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. His guilty green eyes peer up at you.

“For…?”

You’re quickly losing patience and he’s quickly losing confidence.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he begins quickly. “The tip was a mistake. I was going back and forth on it, but again, I seriously didn’t mean anything by it and I-”

“Mean anything by what?” This dude is not making a lick of sense. What tip?

His eyes search yours for something, but you only offer him confusion in return. He seems to notice and continues on with his ramblings, “I swear I didn’t know it was you at first. Once, I did I just-" He continues to babble and you find yourself tuning him out. 

Your hair keeps falling in your face and this is already the second time you’ve pushed it back behind your ear but it’s obvious it won’t cooperate. Maybe if you’d been paying more attention, you’d notice the way Mr. Harper’s eyes linger on the hair tie you have around your lithe fingers. Maybe you’d even notice how he trails off, mouth agape as you tie your hair up and out of the way.

When you go to stand to put an end to this, he pops up as well and it’d be hard not to notice his-

“Mr. Harper,” you trail off uncomfortably as you eye the growing situation in his pants. You can’t help but be reminded of the voyeur in the alley last night. “What exactly’s going on here?”

He quickly grabs a folder off your desk to cover himself, something you grant him the consideration of ignoring as you edge closer to the door.

“Jesus.” Mr. Harper uses his free hand to run a terse hand through his fiery locks. “I’m not trying to- Look. I just,” he trails off in frustration. “I know what you do,” he says, sounding the calmest he's been ever since this weird conversation started.

You freeze, hand on the door as you face the disheveled man in front of you. You don’t necessarily think he poses a threat, but you don’t fucking know and he obviously knows what you are.

Knows what you do. 

You’re fucked. You’re fired. Sayonara, bitch- that’s how this always ends.

You mentally prepare yourself for the tough road ahead, figuring ending this conversation is the first step to fucking moving on, but he won’t even grant you mercy.

“Then say it,” you urge defensively, hand curling more around the handle with each passing second.

“avid_reader,” he says, watching as your hand tightens around the door handle.

You’re debating just leaving him there in your classroom, but your shit is all still on your desk. You probably should leave him in here and go get help, but you don’t. What would you even say, anyway? “Hey, I’m a cam model on the side and this dude who jacks it to me just figured everything out. Please help?” Yeah, that’s not going to work.

Instead, you stand there feeling tidal waves of embarrassment and anxiety washing down on you.

“You’re not the first person to figure it out,” you say. The words snap out of your mouth before you can stop them. You cross your arms across your chest as a means of comfort, but it only puffs out your cleavage even further. You sigh, dropping your arms as you approach the redhead. You don’t mean to but you stop closer to the man than you’d meant, leaving him to back against the desk behind him as you continue forward. “If you want to transfer Lian, I understand,” you offer, but he’s already shaking his head, eyebrows furrowed like you’ve got the wrong idea. Regardless of his reaction, you continue. “Just please don’t tell,” you plead with him. “I can’t afford to lose this job again.”

He looks completely stupefied by how this is unfolding.

You half expect him just to walk out the door as you’d planned to do, not even seconds prior, but he doesn’t. If anything, he seems relieved (?) by your reaction.

“Why do you even need the side job?” Out of all the things to come from his mouth, you’re definitely not expecting that. 

“Technically, if we’re talking pay, this is my side job,” you respond, gesturing to the classroom around you halfheartedly. “35k a year doesn’t exactly pay bills, or well, much of anything at all,” you snort humorlessly. “Again, I totally understand if you want to transfer Lian, though.”

Mr. Harper’s mind still looks like it’s reeling from the reveal and his dick still obviously is, too, as it remains half-mast. His voice is gruff as he stares down at your smaller form. Even though he’s the one being cornered, you still somehow feel like the prey.

“Why would I do that?” he asks quietly.

There’s an obvious heat behind his eyes, one you’d have to be dumb not to miss. It’s clearly not escaping either of you that your close position is reminiscent of your infamous scene.

You watch as his lips open, then close as if debating whether or not to take it further. His eyes are half-lidded, almost like he’s high on your presence alone. 

He gulps, watching your eyes trail across his every minute reaction as if it might stop at any second. 

It has to stop.

It’s one thing to be a cam girl and it’s another to suck off one of the parents in the classroom. Yup, nope. Not doing it. However, you grant him the satisfaction of staying a finger-width away from his chest for just a moment longer.

You sigh, “I don’t have time for this superfluous conversation, Mr. Harper.” You give him as stern of a look as you can manage.

“Damn, you’re killin’ me here, babe- Miss,” he says your name again and watch as his breathing sputters under your slitted gaze. 

“It’s best we keep this completely professional. Just because I…” you trail off, knowing he gets the point. “Doesn’t mean we can ignore the circumstances I’m under. I really care about these kids and I wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize this position.” 

You know he’s holding off on a comment about the position you’re both currently in in favor of backing away in understanding.

“Totally got you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable at all.”

You sigh in relief. Out of all the confrontations you’ve had about this topic, this has definitely been the easiest. Dare you say that Mr. Harper even seemed like a pretty cool dude. If you weren’t his daughter’s teacher, you’d definitely-

No, you can’t allow yourself to think like that.

“Thank you for, you know,” you hesitate, “not ratting me out.” 

“Never,” he assures you with the most seriousness he’s displayed since you’ve met him.

You move, opening the door for him and getting blasted by whatever delicious cologne he’s wearing as you see him out. 

He hesitates as if he wants to say something, but you beat him to the punch.

“Have a good day, Mr. Harper,” you say, granting him a small, genuine smile before shutting the door behind you.

You know he hasn’t moved and you know he knows you haven’t moved. The two of you stand there on either side of the door reveling in the last dregs of whatever the fuck that conversation constituted as.

Finally, you hear the tell-tale sign of his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum and you finally allow your heels to clack back over to your desk. You slump in your chair, head in your hand, wondering what the fuck you’ve just gotten yourself into.

➸💋➸

You received your annual invite to the Wayne Holiday Gala months ago, though you honestly had considered not coming this year. However, after your run-ins with Jason, you decide to show up.

You end up spending most of the night with the kids in the daycare area. As unappetizing as it may sound to some, making small talk with the stuffy Gotham elites in the other room definitely sounds like the shittier end of the bargain.

You’re in the middle of a makeover session, which seems to involve a lot of poking and pulling when you hear it.

“Oh, no fucking way.” Your body stiffens at the familiar voice. “This is so rich.”

“Mr. Harper,” you say without turning around. You thank the little kids around you for the glitter bomb they’ve set off on you as you rise. Your form-fitting, high-slitted dress unfurls as you do so, revealing the extravagance of your gown (x).

He cleans up very nice. 

You try to hide how you check him out, but it doesn’t seem to matter too much as he’s preoccupied with raking his eyes up and down your curves. You watch as his freckled cheeks turn red.

“How’d you know?” His voice is extra scratchy tonight and it’s doing things to you.

“You’re the only one of my parents who curses like a sailor no matter who’s in the room,” you explain. At this, you gesture down to the kids who’ve made you look like you’re going to Coachella rather than a gala.

The little girl closest to you keeps trying to tug at your hair, but Mr. Harper sits down and offers her his long locks in your stead. 

“Are you,” he trails off, looking away from your eyes to fiddle with his black tie. “Is it okay that I sit here with you?”

It’s a vulnerable question after the clear shift after he approached you in your classroom all those weeks ago. 

“I don’t own the place,” you say with a shrug as you sit back down with crossed legs beside him. “So, what are you doing here tonight?”

“My friend’s back in town and said he might be here tonight, so,” he trails off as he motions to his cornflower blue tux. It’s fucking ugly as shit and, somehow, it couldn’t look better on the muscular man.

“Where’s Lian?” you ask, blushing as soon as you realize you’ve asked.

Roy, however, seems pleased by your question. He points over to the other side of the room where she’s playing some combo of hide-and-seek and tag with a group of kids. 

“She loves these kinds of things,” he says. “She wouldn’t let me miss out once she heard we’d been invited,” Lian catches your eye and waves excitedly before she’s pulled back into the game. “What about you?”

His voice lulls you into an easy smile. “Didn’t expect to see me here?” you tease.

“I didn’t say that,” he jests back as he tries to navigate the minefield that is this conversation. “You look good,” he says finally, though his eyes are forcibly focused on Lian.

You follow along as she gets chased around to avoid being tagged. The smile that’s adorned your face ever since he came in the room has yet to dull, something you’re sure he notices as his cheeks burn red.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. It’s your turn to blush when you feel his eyes finally shift back to you. You make the hard decision to focus on the kids running around rather than on his stunning, verdant eyes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

It seems like your words have given him the confidence to… well, you’re not exactly sure, but he definitely seems more cocky now. However, a tiny voice interrupts before he gets a chance to respond.

“Go!”

“No, you!”

Your head turns to the gaggle of well-dressed kids currently shoving each other your way.

“Excuse me!” 

“Hello,” you greet them, smiling at their cute display.

“They said you’re a princess,” a small girl in a tutu says quietly as she sidles up to you. All the while, she wrings her hands behind her back as three other girls stand behind her shyly awaiting your response. 

Before you can think of something to say, Roy swoops in.

“She’s 100% a princess,” Roy assures them with a playful wink sent your way. “Right, princess?”

You snort, trying not to be affected by the wink, “Right.”

You’re covered in shitty body glitter in a gown that anyone else’s here easily dwarfs. You feel far from a princess. Hell, the only reason you’d even been invited anyway had been because of your mom’s legacy.

The kids convince you to play heroes and robbers. Roy watches from the sidelines as you use a pink bow and arrow toy to stave off the waves of robbers that now includes Lian. Soon, she drags her dad to play, convinced that he needs to show you how to use the arrow for some reason.

“You’re not lining up the arrow right,” he says as he comes up to stand behind you. 

“Mr. Harper,” you can hardly contain your eye roll, “it’s plastic.”

“Is this okay?” he asks as his hand hovers above your own.

Is it?

“Yeah,” you breathe before you lose the courage.

His firm chest presses against your back as he guides your hands on the bow. His soft hands trickle along your skin, effortlessly teasing you all the while.

“You know, we’re not at school,” you startle at what he murmurs against the shell of your ear. “You can just call me Roy.”

You hesitate. 

Is this crossing a line? 

It’s just a name, you reason before giving in. “Alright, Roy,” you appease him. You just  know he’s smiling big and a curious glance behind you proves it’s even dorkier of a grin than you’d imagined. “Don’t make me regret this,” you huff, settling back around the bow with his gentle guidance.

“Never.”

You release the arrow and, for once, it actually hits the target. The kids go nuts like you’ve just told them they get candy every day forever.

This is exactly when he shows up…

“Figures I’d find the two of you here.”

You startle, turning around with the toy bow and arrow still poised in your hands to find- “Jason.”

“What’s up,” he says, looking highly amused, though his only tell is the blatant mirth behind his emerald eyes.

Roy removes himself from around your smaller form to face your friend, who also seems to know Roy.

“I thought you didn’t come to these things anymore,” Roy says, confusing you even more.

“You know Jason?” you ask the redheaded man.

Roy backs away with an unreadable gaze as he shoots back a question your way, “Have the two of you met before?” It sounds pointed, like he somehow knows you guys fucked in the alley.

Your eyes flicker over to the darker-haired gentleman, wondering if Jason didn’t want him to know. He’s smiling like he’s in on something you aren’t, though, so you take it as a sign you can divulge.

“A couple of times,” you respond nonchalantly.

“A couple of times?!” Roy repeats in disbelief, shooting Jason a look he has no choice but to laugh at. After this, Jason and Roy seem to be holding a conversation with their eyes alone. 

You hand off the bow and arrow to the little girl who asks to use it before turning your attention back to the men who seem to have come to some agreement without ever having spoken. 

“I should’ve known the horndog dad she was talking about was you, Harper,” Jason says. At this, you clearly appear embarrassed to have been caught talking about Roy, but Roy’s too embarrassed that his flirting’s been so obvious. “So,” he drawls with his hypnotizing deep voice, “what’ve you guys been up to?”

“Just this mostly,” you tell him, gesturing to the glitter and toys scattered around. Your heels are starting to kill your feet, so you make to sit down again. 

Both men, much to your amusement, help you down before sitting beside you. The kids immediately come up and try to play with his hair like they were with you and Roy, but it’s too short. They ultimately resort to makeup and more glitter, leaving you to wonder just who the fuck was giving these kids body glitter?

The three of you amuse the kids for a bit longer before Jason signals the two of you to follow him.

Roy tells Lian he’ll be right back and to stay in the childcare area while he’s gone. You watch after the two of them, not feeling Jason’s calculating eyes on the side of your face until you turn and meet them.

“What?”

He just shakes his head with a light smirk. An attendant walks by with a fresh tray of champagne flutes and Jason asks for them to stop and takes the tray from their hands. You raise a questioning brow when he hands you one before downing a glass.

Yeah, you could stand to get fucked up.

You smile, following suit as you down the glass, then another. Soon, Roy sidles up beside you and joins in on a few. Jason easily out drinks you and you’re not trying to get to the point where you’re too drunk. Right now, you feel a pleasant, tipsy hum vibrating across your tingling skin.

Roy takes the drinks slower but still downs one or two.

By the time the three of you are done, the tray of 10 glasses is completely empty. From here, Jason takes you and Roy around the parts no one else dares venture, ultimately stumbling upon Bruce Wayne’s office.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you walk into the ornate room. 

The entire room is covered in deep, rich wood and is filled with shelves upon shelves of old-looking literature. It looks like what the two cheap sets you’ve been on were trying to emulate but could never come close to. 

Your fingers trail delicately across the fabric spines of books that adorn the wall-to-wall bookshelves in appreciation.

“Yeah,” Jason says. The muscular man sidles up beside you to pull out the copy of The Happy Prince you’ve been eyeing. “Haven’t been in here since I was a kid, but it still holds up to what I remember.” He stares down at your pick before handing it off to you. You hold it delicately, something he chuckles at, “You’re not going to fuck it up; trust me, he wouldn’t notice even if you did. Old man doesn’t have time to read anymore.”

“Oh?” you respond, not quite sure what else to say.

Jason merely nods. “I used to sneak in here or the library after patro- bedtime,” he coughs as he corrects himself. “Wilde is one of my favorites.”

You feel the all-telling stare of Roy from behind where Jason has you trapped against the shelf. When you turn around, however, he pretends to be preoccupied with the random knickknacks on the desk. 

“Who’s your favorite, Roy?”

He looks up from the paperweight he’s holding as if surprised to be addressed by you. “John Knowles is always good. Can’t go wrong with Ray Bradbury,” the redhead says.

You nod in approval, missing how Jason’s eyes flash mischievously as he glances between the two of you. 

“A Separate Peace has always been one of my go-to’s,” you add shyly. 

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because you’re not at the school, maybe it’s the fact you’re far away from the party, but you actually feel nervous around Roy right now. What’s making it worse is that Jason seems to notice. Much to your chagrin, he ups the ante between the two of you as if finding amusement in seeing the two of you blush so profusely.  

Jason suddenly moves from beside you and off somewhere in the corner to fiddle around with an antiqued globe. You watch, trying to ignore Roy in your peripheral, as the top half of the globe opens to reveal crystal glasses and containers.

While Jason pours the three of you more drinks, you and Roy get to talking about, well, just about everything. The cadence and ease at which the two of you switch from topic to topic is incredible. You feel like you’ve known the freckled man forever by the time Jason’s handing you a heavy, intricate glass.

You thank him, quirking a brow at his knowing smile. He just shakes his head. “You two are fucking hilarious, you know that?” Jason teases.

You don’t.

A quick look at Roy proves his confusion as well. However, one glance at his friend leads to another one of their eyes-only conversations that seems to bring Roy in on the joke. You, on the other hand, are left to flounder in front of your attractive company.

“And why is that?” you finally bite. 

Roy seems content to sip at his glass with raised brows as he watches the scene unfold. 

“I’m just surprised you guys haven’t up and fucked already.” 

You and Roy begin sputtering at the same time. Luckily, Roy seems to gather his bearings fast enough to respond so you don’t have to make a fool of yourself.

“Jay, what?” Roy practically chokes.

You and Roy still, looking at Jason to gauge the seriousness of his words. Roy then looks down at you to judge your reaction.

You know you shouldn’t fuck him. You really shouldn’t fuck him.

You can’t fuck him, but…

“Guess it’d only be fair,” Roy snorts at Jason’s words, but you don’t understand. “I don’t mind sharing with friends.”

The three of you return to a silent stare-down of who’s going to be the first to make a move.

Fuck it. You’re tipsy and horny and there are two attractive as fuck men in front of you. This is definitely a far cry from the boring night you thought you were in for.

“Are you sure, Jason?” you finally ask.

Roy’s breath catches audibly in his throat once he realizes you’re seriously considering it. “Princess, you’ve had a lot to drink. I don’t think- I wouldn’t want you to feel like this is,” he trails off, eyes searching yours.

He’s cute and thoughtful, okay? How can you not fuck him now?

With Jason’s blessing, you push forward, corralling Roy against the desk until your chest is flush against his.

“Takes more than liquor and a few glasses of champagne to count me out, Mr. Harper,” you say, realizing too late you’ve used the wrong name, though it doesn’t seem like he minds in the slightest. “Sorry,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t be,” he bites his lip, “it’s really fucking hot.” His hands close around the mahogany desk behind him as if keeping him from ravishing you right then and there. “Gotta admit, though, it’s been a few years since I’ve done anything,” he begins the tell-tale signs of his signature rambling, but you cut him off with a deep, slow kiss. It steals the rest of the words from his mouth as your body melts against his. “You don’t care that I’m out of practice?” Roy asks vulnerably.

You slowly wipe at the spit you’ve left on his lips before allowing your eyes to flicker up and meet his. He’s already looking at you when you do like he can’t believe this is actually happening.

“Not at all,” you smirk lightly at his surprised look as you turn his words back on him, “it’s hot.” 

He groans at your words as if he’s holding himself back from flipping your position and fucking you against the desk. He doesn’t, though. Roy sits back against the desk and lets you do whatever you please.

“Really?” He stares down at your wandering hands with wide, uncertain eyes.

You nod, biting at your bottom lip. “I can help you practice,” you offer salaciously.

His jaw drops and you can’t help but laugh alongside Jason.

“Can I touch you?” his deep voice rumbles across your skin, further spurring the stammering beat of your heart. You nod, but it’s not enough for him. “Tell me you want me.”

You smile up at him. “I want you, Roy,” you breathe.

“Fuck,” he moans. You watch as his dick twitches against the pants of his ugly suit. “Jay, are you sure you want to share?”

He’s sitting in the large chair behind the desk behind Roy, palming himself through his pants. “Just fuck already,” he replies darkly, voice thick with arousal.

Jason looks absolutely sinful. His thick thighs are spread temptingly in the head chair with his button-up completely unbuttoned to reveal his toned stomach. His suit jacket remains on, as well as his tie, though it’s loosened and strewn lazily across his shoulder.

Roy exhales sharply before flipping your position in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted onto the desk with Roy slotting between your thick thighs before your mouth is overtaken by his. You arch extra for Jason, who’s behind you and break away from the redhead to turn around and lean down slightly to kiss the other man.

Jason’s rough thumb runs along your jawline as he flicks his tongue teasingly against yours. Meanwhile, Roy’s hands roam your body tentatively as if he’s scared he’ll do something wrong.

“Jason,” you breathe against his soft lips as you pull apart, “tell him he’s not going to break me.”

“Tell him yourself,” Jason huffs like he can’t believe you pulled away to say that.

Soon, he’s shoving his calloused hands into your dress to cup your lofty tits and expose them to the room. You gasp, something he uses as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, though his hands eventually move, finding Roy’s hands and moving over top of them to sink them into your skin.

“Shit,” Roy groans as he finally allows himself to divulge in your curves. He throws off his blue suit jacket, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his dress shirt before focusing back on you. His eyes linger over your tits as if memorizing them. 

It’s cute.

Your finger beckons him hither. Your half-lidded eyes slip close as two sets of hands and mouths descend upon you in all the right places.

Jason moves to stand behind you at the desk, caressing up and down your exposed skin. His mouth leaves slick kisses along your neck, stopping to suck every few seconds to draw airy moans from your plump lips. Meanwhile, Roy’s mouth attaches to your collarbone, moving lower to suck your tits into his mouth with an appreciative whine as his fingers explore lower.

“Jay,” Roy’s voice breaks, leaving you to moan in response. His fingers trickle close to the top of the slit of your dress, begging to go further. k“I don’t think she’s wearing any underwear.”

Suddenly, they’re on each other, kissing over your shoulder with a clashing of tongues and teeth. It’s aggressive and, honestly, some of the hottest shit you’ve ever seen. You spread your legs even further before allowing your fingers to trickle up to your pulsating clit, but Roy stops you.

You look at the redhead in dazed confusion, just wanting some fucking relief, but he won’t allow it. “Please,” you beg, shifting your hips flush against the bulge in his pants, but he refuses to relent. “I need you to touch me.”

“Say my name,” he says darkly, fingers hovering right above where you’re desperate for it. 

You meet his wanton gaze head-on, whimpering as Jason leaves hickeys across your shoulders. You so desperately want to buck into Roy’s hand, but his firm grip on your hip prevents you from doing so. 

“Roy,” you moan, using your cam voice. 

He seems to notice because his resolve seems to crumble. “So good, baby,” Roy starts to ramble. “You’re so fucking sexy. You want to get fucked?” 

Jason’s breathing sputters against your ear as he finally allows himself to unzip his pants. His hard member rocks against the top of your ass and lower back with his hands reaching around you to tease your nipples. You arch backward against him with a loud cry.

“Please!” You’re not even necessarily answering Roy’s question. You just need something, anything from either of them and you need it right now. You squirm in the hold, bucking and writhing for any kind of contact you can get, but both are playing hard to get. 

“Should we give her what she wants, Harper?” Jason turns to Roy, ignoring your pleas completely.

You mewl when Roy finally rubs his thumb against your aching clit. However, the contact is gone as quickly as it began, leaving you just as desperate as you’ve felt this entire time. 

“I don’t know, Jay,” Roy responds sadistically. “Maybe we should make her wait a little bit longer.”

If they’re going to tease you, you’re definitely willing to do the same.

If they weren’t going to touch you, you’d just have to touch them. You waste no time in latching on to Roy’s sweaty neck, nipping and sucking hickeys into his collection of freckles as you mouth along his exposed shoulders.

“How are we doing this?” Jason asks gruffly, stirring excitement in your lower stomach. 

Regardless of all the talk, you know neither will be able to resist much longer.

Roy bites at his lower lip cheekily, eyes trailing down your exposed body as he considers the question. “I’m going to bend her over this desk, fuck her ass up,” Roy says. At this, the redhead gauges your reaction and, when he sees no hesitation, does just this. “Feel free to join in, I don’t care,” he says to Jason as he rubs his clothed erection against your arched ass as if testing the waters. “This alright, beautiful?”

Roy’s cock against your ass, or the dangerous look Jason has in his eyes as you come eye-level with his leaking cock.

“Answer him,” Jason demands cooly. He lifts your head with an assured grip as he draws your gaze from his twitching cock to his dark eyes.

Your body responds earnestly to all the stimulation, moaning his name with a broken, “Yes.”

The tip of Jason’s tongue pokes out to lick at his lips. You watch as his eyes flicker to Roy behind you with palpable desire as he brings his leaking tip against your pliant lips. He slips in with a groan, hands falling to the edges of the desk, curled white-knuckled to prevent himself from completely ravishing your throat right then and there.

“So good,” Jason praises. His thumb trickles at the corner of your mouth gently while his hips snap slowly but roughly into your mouth. “Now, show Roy how good you are.”

You groan around his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he picks up the pace. At the same time, you feel Roy lining himself up with your cunt and start to suck Jason more ardently.

Roy’s cock pushes against your tight entrance, slipping in slowly with an appreciative sigh from both of you. You feel him bob up and down from within you as soon as he settles. A quick look behind you proves how his orange locks cascade deliciously in front of his flushed, freckled cheeks.

“You feel so good inside me,” you breathe. To gain more friction, you wiggle your ass around his thickness, spurring an accidental snap of his hips. The sharp momentum sends you forward into Jason, who merely cups your face and draws you up for a deep, edging-on, rough kiss that leaves you backing helplessly against Roy for relief. “Fuck!”

He finally offers it, probably knowing he wasn’t going to last for shit, anyway. The redhead’s freckled hands caress and spread your cheeks as he sputters out uncoordinated, breathy thrusts into your tight heat. All the while, he spews the absolute most obscene things you’ve ever heard. Roy wraps your hair around his hand, forcing the rhythm on Jason’s dick as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. This only lasts for so long before you feel the shakiness in his thrusts.

“Jason,” Roy calls out from behind, “I need to tap for a second.”

Jason merely rolls his eyes, drawing you from his cock to his mouth for a lewd, terse kiss that leaves you breathless. You watch as his muscular form moves around the desk to settle behind you by Roy.

“You still good with this?” Jason asks, still a way back from your ass that’s arched over the desk. 

You look at him from over your shoulder with a playful glint behind your eyes. “Just fuck me already, Jason.” Jason wastes no time in pushing his tip into your tight heat. He remains like this, creating lewd noises as his tip bobs shallowly in and out of your slick cunt. “Please,” you beg after he continues like this for another beat. “I need you deeper. Jay, please!”

He chuckles darkly, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

It’s all the warning you get before he pushes into you fully. He remains seated as you squirm against the large intrusion, with desperate gasps and moans spilling from you as you do.

Jason’s thrusts start out innocent enough, exploratory in a sense. They soon grow more desperate and harsher as he responds to the wanton cries you produce each time he bottoms out inside you.

Soon, Roy’s tapping back in and the fun truly begins.

That’s how you end up bent over the desk in your dress and heels, holding on to the edge of the desk for dear life as both men take turns fucking in and out of you. It’s completely sadistic how they use your body just the way you need, drawing noises and reactions from you that you’ve never experienced before. If this had been a stream, you know you’d rake in a record amount of tips- how could you not when you looked this wrecked?

You see yourself in the window in front of you, staring at your tits as they bounce in time with the varied thrusts. Eventually, they seem to catch on to what you’re doing and meet your unfocused gaze in the reflection as they make a mess of you.

“Shit,” Jason groans when his tip catches against your entrance as he slows down the pace once again to tease you. It works. You’re left mewling and bucking helplessly against his firm grip that keeps you in place from doing so. 

Roy decides he wants you to get a taste of him and take the position Jason had earlier for you to suck him into your mouth. His member is slick and tastes like your pussy, only serving to make you moan wantonly against his thickness. The vibrations only amplify when Jason smacks your cheeks in quick succession, then moves to cradle and soothe them.

You feel completely and utterly used.

Soon, Roy’s breathing sputters in just a way that Jason knows to pull out. He begins to jack off over your jiggling ass as Roy slips inside of you once again. Their lips connect and you watch their sensual kiss through the reflection on the glass as you feel pressure mounting within you.

Your tongue lulls out without you even realizing it.

Jason, however, does.

“Two guys in your pussy isn’t enough for you?” Jason questions darkly as he makes eye contact with you. “You need a cock in your mouth, too?” You bite at your bottom lip, giving him all the answers he needs. “Tell me where you need me.”

Like he doesn’t already know.

“I need your cock shoved down my throat,” you say, panting lightly. The entire time, you maintain eye contact through the reflection in the window as you respond coquettishly. “Will you fuck my throat, Jason?”

“Say please,” he retorts in a dangerous voice that leaves you bucking back against Roy’s dick with a breathy moan.

“Please, Jason?”

“Good girl.” With this, Jason complies easily, choking you with his length as he thrusts against your pliant lips.

Roy doesn’t last much longer after you beg Jason to fuck your throat again.

“Fucking, damnit,” Roy curses, pulling out of you before you can even comprehend what’s happening. “Man, what the fuck?” 

You pull off Jason’s cock with a lewd ‘pop’ as you look over your shoulder. 

Roy’s got one hand cupped under his dick to collect his come, with the other running aggravatedly through his hair. It’s definitely not the ending you were expecting and you can’t help but laugh. He’s such a fucking loser and it’s only making you more and more attracted to him for some reason.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone wants to hear from a pornstar they bang,” he grumbles, though his words only make you laugh harder. He smacks you lightly on the hip, motioning for you to turn over so you can press your bare body into his firm chest. “Give me a sec, babe. I’ve got you.

“I’m actually quite flattered to be called me a pornstar,” you jest as you wiggle into the new position.

“Well, what would you consider yourself?”

“A random bitch who does porn.”   He looks at you like you’re insane. “Your video got in the fucking tens of millions, dude.”

He draws another easy laugh from you, “'Dude’ is seriously what you’re calling me right now?”

“No,” he starts lowly, “but feel free to start calling me Mr. Harper more often.”

At this, his dick slightly twitches back to life, leaving you to roll your eyes. However, you gasp when he drops to a crouch, now eye-level with your pulsating cunt and inadvertently attempt to close your legs, but he won’t allow it. He pries your thick legs open with greedy eyes and a firm grip, preventing you from shutting them again.

You groan, arching against his restraint in anticipation of what’s to come.

Jason runs a calloused hand through your hair that’s splayed out across his father’s paperwork. He then collects as much of your hair as he can and grips it, using the hold to force your head back onto his dick. His one hand remains in your hair while the other trails down from your tits to rub at your clit.

Your appreciative moans vibrate around his large member, drawing the most erotic noises you’ve ever heard from the man.

Roy’s tongue finally trickles out, teasing you with light licks along your folds, then pressured kisses to your inner thighs.

“‘M so fucking lucky, babe,” the redhead groans against your cunt as he finally picks up the pace. Roy’s tongue seems to know all the right places and all the right pressure to get you bucking against his smirking mouth. “I’ve dreamed about this shit.” He meets your half-lidded gaze as he licks a long, thick trail from your entrance up to your clit. “Fucking you just like this, getting to taste your sweet little pussy,” he says. As if to prove his point, he mouths along your cunt, slurping your juices into his already dripping mouth. “Forced me to sleep in underwear so I don’t have to change my sheets every night, princess.” 

“Roy,” you moan. You can’t help but push further against his tongue, hips sputtering against his skillful appendage for more. Your head falls backward, taking Jason back into your mouth with a forcefulness that has him tightening the grip in your hair.

“That’s right, baby,” he growls. “Say my name just like that.”

He eats you out, only removing his mouth to shove a finger inside of you when you’re getting close again.

You let out an embarrassing cry, leaving Jason to remove his cock. He smacks your flushed cheeks with his cock so he and Roy can both hear the full extent of you coming undone.

“Please,” you beg, arching off the desk. “Right there, Roy- fuck!”

With two different people working your pussy, you know you won’t last long.

Jason’s calloused pad against your clit and Roy’s expert tongue is all too much. You’ve never had it feel like this before- not even close. All the while, Roy continues to use moves you’ve never felt, but damn do you want to feel them again. 

Preferably soon.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. I need your come on my fingers,” he says your name like a demand.

You have no choice but to obey when he finally manages a second finger. 

You come against Roy’s expert tongue. Your hips sputter sporadically against his curled fingers inside of you, all while you force Jason back down your throat, effectively giving you the best orgasm of your life. When you finally catch your breath, you lift yourself weakly onto your elbows. The sight that meets you makes you laugh as both men are standing in front of you, ready for another round.

Fuck.

This round is hazy and steamy as the three of you find a new, sensual rhythm that drives you crazy.

They continue switching off fucking into you with sloppier movements, taking turns kissing you and each other as Roy plays with your clit and Jason plays with your tits. At some point, Jason places his calloused hand on your lower stomach in a way that makes every thrust feel so much more intensified. You know you won’t last long.

Your hips snap tantalizingly against Roy’s thrusts. against his fiery hair with reckless abandon as you feel another orgasm drawing near.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as your face scrunches up in absolute pleasure. “There we go. Give it to me, I want your come all over my dick. Good,” Roy praises as his fluid thrusts milk out your second orgasm of the night.

Your breathing sputters as you release on his hard length, squeezing down as you spasm around him until he’s forced to pull out. You’re still twitching in Jason’s arms as Roy spatters his come across your pussy and lower stomach.

“So fucking good,” you groan, allowing Jason to support the majority of your weight as you slink against his toned chest.

Roy stares at your fucked-out form in disbelief. He notices your smirk and blushes, beginning his usual rambling that you can’t help but be enamored by.

“If you want, my roommate won’t be in for most of the night.”

Jason snorts, you assume, at Roy’s attempt to get you back to his place.

You surprise everyone in the room, yourself included, when you ultimately agree, “Alright.”

➸💋➸

You wake up with a headache in an unfamiliar room.

There’s a random drum set in the corner, as well as various band tees and posters littered across the walls. Memories flood back to the forefront of your brain as you stare at the picture on the nightstand and groan.

Mr. Harper. No- Roy.

You hear the shower going from somewhere close by and use it as a chance to look around and gather your bearings.

You remember the office sex, driving back with Jason so Roy could put Lian to bed. You remember coming back to Roy’s place and fucking, changing into one of his loose shirts, then watching some dumb movie on his bed with tequila. After that, though, the memories all carry a hazy edge.

You find your dress lying across the desk in his room and silently pad over to it. Underneath the satin fabric is his partially opened laptop that dings out a familiar tone as if on cue. You change back into your evening gown, looking at your phone that lights up with a notification reminder about your stream later tonight. It’s too much of a coincidence for you not to sit there and debate snooping. Ultimately, curiosity gets the best of you as you open the screen fully.

What you find stops your heart.

He currently has tabs pulled up about some sort of mechanical issue with a motorcycle engine, the other tab is about nearby kids museums and activities. It’s the flashing tab all the way at the end that sends chills up your spine.

It’s your cam page.

Not only that, but it’s his chat log with you, showing the last message he sent.

inmyarsenal: have to stop coming by your streams. tAke this as compensation- no refunds :)

Holy shit, he’s a stalker.

Holy shit, you walked right into it.

The shower’s still going when you finally find yourself able to move again. You waste no time in rushing out of his room, searching desperately for an escape. The front door is too close to the slightly opened bathroom door for you to be able to sneak out of. You turn around and find a balcony, sighing when you realize this is your best bet.

Fire escape it is.

Donning last night's dress and remnants of body glitter, you slip out onto the balcony for your first and worst walk of shame ever.

No, actually, it gets so much worse.

“Well, this is a new one.”

You startle, turning to face Jason who’s smoking.

“Jason?” you exclaim in surprise. You’re entirely confused. He’s Roy’s roommate??? You move over to the ledge where he’s standing and look down at the ten flights you’ll have to traverse down in your heels with a sigh.

It’s going to be a long day.

“He slept on the couch, you know,” Jason says, taking a drag before offering it to you. “Nothing happened after the movie. I promise.”

For some reason, you believe him, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still seriously disturbed by what you’ve found. For fuck’s sake, Roy had watched your stream before the parent teacher conference knowing it was you and tipped you after. It’s entirely fucking creepy and way too contrived to be a mistake.

The pounding in your head takes over your senses as you take a hit off the cigarette. You sputter as soon as the smoke hits your lungs, immediately wishing you hadn’t taken the shit at all. Thankfully, Jason holds in the laugh you can tell is bubbling in his throat, something you appreciate.

Inside, the faucet squeaks off and you quickly realize that if you’re going, you better go.

You hand back the cigarette and shuffle down the first few stairs before looking back at Jason, “You never saw me.” 

By the time you get to the bottom, you look up to find the man’s already gone.

You need a fucking aspirin. 

A/N: work has been stressing me out and I recently got diagnosed w an autoimmune disease so we b dealing with that shit. i saw the eclipse tho and it was p cool!

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[bountydroid]

Stitches

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean (PLATONIC)

Request: Can I please request some hurt/comfort between Lucy & The Ghoul 😩 Like she gets hurt during her encounter with the gulper & Cooper breaks his bad boy/mean character for a minute and helps to stitch her up? Or Cooper gets hurt during a gunfight & tries to hide it from Lucy but fails, & Lucy brings her nice, down-to-earth self and takes care of his wounds (even though he bitches the entire time 🤣)

Notes: Okay anon this is a shorter one. I tried my best to keep him in character but also a little softer with Lucy. I mean he did cut off her finger and tried to sell her organs, so it seemed ooc to have him be all mushy. I hope you like it anyway.

Once the gulper finally retreated into the water, Lucy finally felt the result of her struggle. A large gash on her leg pulsed in pain. Tears fell down her face as she pushed herself away from the water. 

Cooper was in another world entirely as he hurriedly searched his bag for his tin of Radaway. All the vials were completely crushed.

"Motherfucker!" He shouted angrily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've just let you use me as bait in a poison river!" Lucy yelled back.

Cooper lowered his gun before turning back around to the water. "Fuck!" He screamed.

"You can't treat people like this!" Lucy shouted angrily.

"Yeah, why's that?" Cooper asked, his mind obviously elsewhere. 

"Because of the golden rule." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."

"Those gulpers digest real slow. You got time." Cooper said to himself, throwing his bag over his shoulder before pulling out his lasso.

"No. no, no, no, no." She begged as he put it around her neck. "Where are we going? What about the head? I need the head to get my dad back."

"Yeah, well, the wasteland's got its own golden rule," Cooper replied, dragging her along.

"Yeah, what's that?" She asked.

"Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time." Cooper sighed.

"What about the dog?" Lucy asked, scurrying after him.

"He ain't mine." He responded curtly.

It had been hours since they started walking to who knows where. Lucy had no idea where they were going or why they left the head behind. Her leg was angry at the continued use and she was getting worried. 

"Please, sir," Lucy implored. "My leg hurts."

This was the first time Cooper realized she was hurt. He sighed. "Sit." He commanded. 

Lucy quickly did as she was told, looking on with a hopeful expression as he rummaged through his bag before he pulled out a needle and thread.

"But, sir.... don't you have a stimpack?" Her eyes bulged at the needle, never having had stitches before.

He scoffed in response, "Why the hell would I have one of those? Now sit still." He knelt��down in front of her as he inspected the wound. It was a large gash across her thigh, angry and bleeding.

She instinctively wiggled as fear settled in her stomach. 

"I said sit still," Cooper said before putting his hand firmly on her thigh. Lucy noticed a decided lack of venom in his voice. The venom he has had since they first met in Filly. She sat as quietly as possible, letting out a few yelps and gasps here and there as he stitched her back up. 

After some time Cooper leaned back on his heels. "There." He said to himself before pushing himself up off the ground.

Lucy stayed on the ground sniffling in pain, staring at the crude sewing job. "That is going to leave a nasty scar." She mumbled to herself.

'Stop your whining." Cooper complained as he offered his hand to her to help her up. She put her bound wrists in his hand as he pulled her up with ease. 

While he was still in a hurry, Cooper let her walk a little slower after that.

Tag list: @v3lv3tf0x

[shesthedream]

Before, After, and Forever - Chapter 3

Aaron Hotchner x fem!OC (Anya Decker)

Summary: Agent Decker is a phenomenal agent. She has been through hell and back and is unwilling to open her heart. But what happens when Agent Decker’s case lands in the BAU’s hands? What happens when it is decided that she is an asset to the team? And, most importantly, what happens when she meet the unit chief?

Series cw: canon topics, killers, hostages, rape mention, torture, scars, nightmares, flashbacks, slow burn, mentions of eating and body insecurity, yelling

Chapter cw: canon topics: killing, crime scenes

--

"He spent time here. Look at the ground, no prints… more time means more mistakes. There must be something he left behind." She walked around the house, weaving through all the rooms when she finally spots something.

--

The body was left in the bedroom and right against the door frame was a little bit of blood. Small enough that most would not notice, but Decker had a keen eye.

"Look." Decker got Hotch's attention. Rossi followed right behind him.

"Partial print. Good eye Decker." Rossi said.

"Let's get this sent to a lab and see if it's a match to any we have in the system." Hotch commented heading out.

"That's a start, but it won't be enough. We need to work to narrow down our scope of search. He isn't just picking these women randomly off the street. There has to be something connecting them. He's motivated. There is a reason he kills." Decker's comment stopped him

"He's becoming more unhinged. The previous killings maybe, but this could just be pure rage or a break from his pattern."

"No it's not. It's all planned. This can't be random. It was planned in London and it's planned here." Decker was slowly but surely getting on Hotch's nerves.

“Yes, but he can deviate from the pattern-“

“But he won’t. He won’t. Look at how specific this fantasy is. He won’t change, he doesn’t want to change. It’s just going to keep getting worse. We need to find him as soon as possible.”

“And how do you suggest we do that Agent Decker?”

"Keep looking." Decker sends him a glare.

After the evening and next morning of sorting through evidence, they finally had a break. Garcia had found a link between the victims. They had all called electricians prior to their murder. It seemed like he left London because they were getting too close there. What he hadn't expected was that they would connect the dots.

The takedown was simple once they found him. Dennis Hoffshire. His wife passed away and was looking to recreate the fantasy with the women. When they didn't cooperate, he has to kill them. They were able to take him down right as he was checking in for work. After at least 10 known murders internationally, he was done.

He was found with his newest victim, the team thankfully able to get her to safety.

The team got back to the hotel late that night and it made sense to stay the night and fly in the morning, getting straight into work once they reached the office.

That morning, the team had piled back onto the jet, eager to get back home. But they were all still curious, about Anya. No one knew much about her, but they were determined.

"So Decker, which team are you going to next?" JJ asked, hoping to strike up a conversation.

"I don't really know yet. As of right now I work support on many undercovers so I'll be heading to the main building once we get off." Anya had settled herself in the back of the jet hoping to get her paperwork done prior to landing.

"You work undercovers?" Emily asked.

"It's determined on a case by case basis, on need basically. They need me tonight so I have to go."

"What case is is?" Morgan asked. But in response he only got a bored stare from Decker. She obviously couldn't say.

"What's been your most interesting case?" Spencer asked. He knew she had been working at the FBI for years.

Anya was a little bit of a legend at the FBI. You could hear whispers about the women with the highest case solved rate and her incredible efficiency. You would hear talks about how good she was with a gun and how she had taken down crowds of people double her size. No one had brought it up, but everyone knew.

"There was one where we had someone go undercover in a cult. That was certainly... interesting. Group mentality, that sort of thing." Anya looked up to answer his question and looks straight back down to do her work.

The conversation stopped after that. She obviously didn't want to talk and had a lot of work to finish. Everyone retreated to their seats to get some rest before landing. Once landed everyone dropped their things off at their desks and headed home to freshen up. Anya, however, followed Hotch into his office.

"Thank you all for your help, I really appreciate it." She started.

"Not a problem. I was great getting to work with you."

"I know you run a tight ship around here, Agent Hotchner. So I apologized if I stepped on any toes. I meant no disrespect." Anya never really felt the need to explain herself, but this time she thought that if would do her some good. She had a feeling she would be seeing the team again.

"It's not a problem Agent Decker, I understand. It was a honor, we know the prestige your name has around here."

"It's nothing of the sort really."

"So they're rumors?" Hotchner asked. He knew the answer. And he knew she was just trying to be humble.

"Things aren't always what they seem. Anyways, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to give me a call." Anya passed him her business card, a card that could come in handy later down the line when the BAU found themselves in some trouble. With that she also placed her completed files on his desk.

"Thank you again. You have an incredible team."

"Of course."

With that Anya was off and Hotch gathered his things to head home as well before coming in later in the day.

To the teams surprise, they walked in to coffee on their desks. A different one for each of them, the coffee they liked accompanied with a sweet treat.

"My brave crime fighters, which one of you lovely people brought everyone coffee?" Garcia asked walking in with her coffee and muffin. She was even more confused with the lack of response from everyone.

"I thought it was you?" JJ asked Garcia

"No..."

Rossi stepped out of his office and walked down into the bullpen. Seeing everyone's confused faces he commented, "Decker".

Everyone looked at each other in surprise. She had gotten all their coffee orders right. Her way of saying thank you.

"Aww... and I didn't even get to say thank you." Garcia said sadly.

[lebienquifaitmai]

thoughts about The Emperor

I want to just put all my thoughts about The Emperor while my memory is still fresh after beating the game. Obviously spoilers ahead, obviously personal thoughts and perception, and doing it mostly for myself from the future, but feel free to reply if you have something in mind.

I keep seeing takes about how the Emperor is using Tav for his own goals, but his main goal is, basically, destroying the Absolute. Which is not a bad goal, if I must say it's a heroic goal. But he's not able to do so alone, he needs allies for this, however who would want to go through countless challenges one after another, challenge chosens of the Dark Gods, and face the Elder Brain on top of that? Only someone whomst life would depend on this, someone who not only would die if they fail, but their soul and their very being would be destroyed after turning into mind flayer.

So the Emperor and his crew (not sure if they are also rebels, or Emperor is fooling them around) is gathering anyone they can catch through the worlds, Emperor is putting magically altered tadpoles in their brains, then the nautiloid crash happens. Again, it's unknown if Emperor knew, expected, maybe even planned it from the start, or he wanted to do it the other way.

But it is what it is. He can't stop just yet, when stakes is this high. He starts to manipulate the party into thinking that they are protected by some mysterious dream visitor, I assume that he searched trough the minds and made the most personally appealing appearance for each, just to make it easier. He's successfully pushing the party forward their goal. Trying to put in their minds an idea that they shouldn't get rid of their tadpoles, but they should embrace it's potential instead.

And then there is Act 3. His true identity is getting revealed, a lot of stuff is going on.

About Ansur: Emperor tried to turn him down, to make him leave and go live his on life. The letter we can find on Ansur's dead body is very sweet and very sad. I don't think that it could be staged, since Ansur is laying down below the castle, it's very hidden, to access it you have to pass trials, and Emperor is trying his best to make Tav go back, instead of looking for the dragon, and it's not like there is something that could truly expose him, nothing here hints us that he was doing it not out of pure self-defense.

About Duke Stellmane: We know that he was visitting her every tendays, and that's it. There is a thought that he could be the cause of her condition, but it could also be something else. Emperor himself is not saying anything about it if Tav trusts him, but if Tav is being hostile towards him, he'll show Tav how he'll say "the truth" but. He'll show it even if Tav doesn't want to look, and Emperor will make sure to make the vision the most unsettling thing he can come up with, and on top of that he'll completely clash in tone after that. I think the reason behind of this is that Emperor is getting scared about the possiblity that Tav can do something unpredictable and fail everything when they are so close to the destruction of the Absolute. If Tav doesn't want to cooperate willingly and on a good terms, then Emperor is trying to make them act out of fear. If it's easier for them to put everything in black-white terms then Emperor is gonna play the role of an "evil mind flayer who is here only to bring disaster" I don't think we can wholeheartedly believe what we saw there, especially since he keeps her portrait among his old stuff under the Elfsong tavern.

And my final thoughts: the Emperor wants to survive, this is his first priority, his second priority is keeping his city safe. It's good and very understandable desires. He wants to kill the Absolute, and you can only try to persuade him to do otherwise; also he's not even in a cutscene if Tav is becoming an Absolute themselves. Emperor is getting sad if Tav is turning him down on romance, and I think it means he's not living rent free in Tav's head just to lie or/and manipulate them in all ways possible, because then he'd know about Tav possibly not having a romantic interest in him, so he wouldn't even try to engage. And in the end of the game Emperor is still here to say his farewells, and he feels genuinely sad that his journey with Tav is over, and he's being nice even if Tav is acting cold and rude. There is no point of manipulating in the end, and if all of it wouldn't matter for him, he could just simply leave without saying a word.

I personally think that Emperor is not just "another evil mind flayer" and also I think that he has some real feelings for Tav.

[1indigoisles]

Chapter 3 - Excerpt 1

Alright so this is just a small look into what Chapter 3 is going to be about. I meant to add more to it, but that would just make it a lot longer than my excerpts generally are, so here you are.

“What would we tell him? How would we even start?”

“From the beginning, obviously.”

“Like... the 1867 beginning?”

“Maybe from the-beginning-of-the-world beginning.”

“Would he even listen to us? He’s been through a lot, you know.”

“You don’t know Kenneth. He’s tough, he’s patient. If answers are what he wants, then he’ll listen to you people for hours.”

********************************

My eyes snapped open.

Okay, maybe that was a mistake, I thought, as a bright light hit my eyes the second I opened them. I immediately tried to blink it out, the initial spark of pain petering away as I did. I felt groggy, like I’d been sleeping for days on end, sleeping for so long I was almost sick with it. My mouth tasted foul, I was sure my hair was almost irreparably messed up, and I felt so unwashed that I itched to take a nice, long shower, preferably one that lasted a month.

I attempted to sit up, which was another foolish mistake on my part. I groaned aloud as I forced my rigid bones to cooperate, which they did to an extent, until pain seized me and forced me back on the bed. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” came a voice.

I opened my eyes again, immediately searching for the source of the voice. As my eyes finally adjusted, I found I was in a long room with baby blue walls, wooden floors, and a high ceiling. To my right, I saw a couple dozen pristine beds with wooden frames spaced at least a metre away from each other and pressed against the wall, one of which I currently sat on. There were two large windows on the wall opposite to me, presumably where the bright light had come from and woken me up.

At the centre of the left wall were two heavy-looking white double-doors. Above it were some words painted in silver that looked like they were in another language. They were written in a careful, curvy script, and looked more like a drawing than an actual sentence. One of the double-doors was open, and a bright head stuck into the room.

“Jolene!” I exclaimed, as memory came back to me in a sudden rush. The shadow creatures, the fight, the glowing weapons, Rowan, Scarlett and Jolene in armour.

Jolene bleeding.

“Are you alright?” I asked as Jolene stepped into the room, looking none the worse from her ordeal. She was wearing a simple white top covered by her leather jacket and ripped jeans that looked like they ripped just out of old age.

Jolene’s eyebrow shot up. “Seriously?” she demanded. “That is the first question that comes to your mind after seeing a bunch of teenagers battle huge black cloud-monsters?” She let out a breath before I could answer. “I’m fine. Desiree fixed me up. Also, thanks for saving my life back there.” She said the last part in an off-handed manner, like I’d brought her a cup of coffee instead.

“Wait, Desiree?” I asked. “How would she know how to treat wounds? I mean, she’d helped me once at school after gym but-”

“I know about that,” said Jolene. She looked equal parts guilty and amazed, although I wasn’t not sure why. “We know about that. We’ve been keeping a closer eye on you than you think.”

My own eyebrow shot up. “So you and Rowan and possibly Scarlett have X-Man-like powers. Three creatures that I have never seen before in my life ambush me and tell me a lot of creepy things before you and Rowan jump in and start fighting them like it’s straight out of an action movie. And now you’re telling me you spied on me too? Why?”

“To understand,” Jolene sighed, “we’d have to explain from the beginning.”

She moved a little bit to the side, and four people entered the room: Rowan Frost, Scarlett Raynott, Desiree Raynott, and-

“Lila?” I stared at my mother, who looked like she hadn’t slept in a while. She was wearing loose and light clothing, which wasn’t her style at all, and her hair was tied in an untidy ponytail, like it was done in a hurry. Her eyes were the same emerald green of forest streams, but they held an innate sadness and a strange fear that was so unlike Lila that it troubled me.

“Hey there, Ken,” she said, “You alright?”

I looked at her skeptically. “How long was I out?”

“Three days,” Desiree piped up, looking entirely wretched.

I glared at the other four. I didn’t know them well, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be angry at them. All of them had interacted with me and pretended like everything was normal when clearly it wasn’t. Except Scarlett, though. She and I had never really spoken, and when we had, she hadn’t lied.

Nothing would make sense even if you did.

Strange, how the one person I knew the least in this room was the only one who’d been honest.

Right now, however, she had a blank expression painted on her face, indifferent to all the world around her. Her sister, on the other hand, looked guiltier than anything, Rowan was looking at Jolene questioningly, and Jolene looked as though she was working out what to say. Lila still had that strangely sad expression on her face.

“Kenneth,” Jolene said, “we know you have questions and-”

“Well that is excellent,” I said dryly, “how kind of you to consider that I have questions about this place and you people.”

Jolene looked unperturbed. “Would you be ready to listen to really long story, like history-of-the-world-long story?”

“How long am I being held here?” I asked.

“24 hours,” Desiree answered.

“Well then,” I said, trying to etch as much finality as I could into my tone, “you have 24 hours. Explain.”

[howaboutcastiel]

That Good Old Way 2

Summary: You and Joel have a talk about the future. Previous Chapter.

(I decided to use a gif of Peña because this is 40 year old Joel and I wanted The Vibes)

Content: !!! This chapter is from the reader’s perspective and it features a lot of negative self-talk as well as expectations of abusive behavior from Joel. There’s also talk of firearms and use of firearms. Let it be known here that I am NOT an expert when it comes to guns and the advice mentioned is a combination of google searches and cable TV quotes. 

Maybe boredom was getting the best of all of you. The supply runs quickly extended from half-day trips to twelve-hour ones, where two members of the group would leave on horses at first light and return shortly after dark. If it wasn’t Joel and Tommy, it was the lovebirds out looking for food and gear. Out of the immediate radius of the village, there seemed to be plenty to pick from, but it wasn’t without its danger. 

Everyone in the group had managed not to sustain any more serious injuries, but it was clear that venturing further from your temporary farm home meant facing all sorts of new trouble. The village may have offered a layer of protection from raiding parties and groups of infected, but their reach only spanned so far. As it was, your farmhouse was at the very edge of their influence. Exploring closer was neither desirable nor likely to reap much benefit, and exploring outward was pushing your luck every day. Tommy had managed to find some root vegetables that could withstand the cold, and lots of ammunition and scrap fabric came in over the weeks, but the loot was nothing special overall. At best, Isobel had finally managed to find you a proper winter coat. 

It wouldn’t be long until it was your turn to tag along. 

This is where you knew you were bound to screw things up. You were surprised that you had made it to this point with as little drama as the party had been through. The death of the ex-marine had been a great challenge for everyone, but ever since that day, there was only quiet. 

No one had yelled at you. No one had laid a hand on you besides cleaning your wounds. No one had reminded you of how useless you were—how incapable of doing basic tasks you so obviously seemed. The only shouting that happened at all was few and far between, and mostly had to do with Joel’s frustration about his lingering concussion symptoms. You gathered pretty quickly that, even though he desperately needed someone to take care of him, he hated the thought of anyone going out of their way to help him with something. Usually, the yelling was nothing more than a quick snap at Tommy for being overbearing. Once, it was to the group in general, after which Mateo all but laughed in his face. Life in the quaint little farmhouse was quiet and cooperative, for the most part. 

That didn’t mean it felt peaceful, and it certainly didn’t mean that you felt welcome here. 

And now that you needed to truly pull your weight? To ride a horse and hold a gun and keep yourself safe from infected or raiders or worse?

You knew that you’d have them begging the reverend to take you back. 

And you knew he’d say yes. He would always say yes. 

The thought made you sick. 

You didn’t know how to ride a horse, and you certainly didn’t know how to wield a gun while you did it. Under the most controlled circumstances, you were a piss-poor shot, and you knew that the pressure of a genuine threat would make you freeze or falter. You weren’t the warrior that Joel so clearly was. You weren’t a soldier, like Tommy. Not a survivor like Mateo or a doctor like Isabelle. All you had to bring to the table now was… wood chopping. Cooking dinner and planting veggies and washing dishes and playing house. As soon as they were ready to leave this place, the party would understand how little you were worth. They would figure it wasn’t worth it to have to protect you all the way to Boston. 

But for now, you were worth it. For now, you were safe. 

And for some reason, Joel was asking for you. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was that soft, patient tone that it was every time he spoke to you. It was so gentle that you almost wanted to call it patronizing, but you couldn’t deny that you liked it. “Come on in. You can leave the door open if you want.”

You, Tommy, and Joel were still trading off on the two upstairs bedrooms. The past few days, Joel and Tommy had taken the beds while you slept on the couch, which was the boys’ least favorite arrangement. Even Tommy, for some reason, was upset by you sleeping downstairs in the living room. You guessed it was because he was the same kind of stubborn as Joel. As you stepped into the room Joel was staying in, you pulled the door so that it was only open a crack. He sat against the headboard with his head cushioned by his hands. You approached the bed, but didn’t sit down. 

“Is everything alright?”

Joel nodded, his eyebrows turning up into that familiar puppy dog expression. How he could be so soft and so vicious all at once, you could never understand. 

He swallowed. “Just wanted to talk to you.”

Oh. It was happening earlier than you thought it would. Already, he was ready to tell you to get lost. The thoughts raced around in your head. He doesn’t want to carry my weight anymore. They’re mad at me. Joel’s mad at me. I’ve done something wrong. I’ve forgotten something. He’s going to scold me, isn’t he? He’s going to yell and scream—

“Not really good at talking,” Joel continued. “But I figured we need to. Seein’ as this arrangement’s… looking more and more permanent.”

You looked at him with what you could only assume was a confused expression, and a beat of silence between you grew into two, then three. Finally, the silence was as uncomfortable as the thought of him yelling. 

“What is it you want to talk about?” You eventually gave him the cue to speak up. 

Joel pursed his lips. His eyes darted around the room uncomfortably without settling on you. Here it comes, you thought. 

“The weather’s finally gettin’ warmer. And even though it’s mighty cozy living in this little farmhouse of ours, I’m thinking we can’t be stayin’ much longer. Tommy’s been dead set on Boston for months now, and I’m sure the lovebirds are gonna be wantin’ for more company than the three of us. That, and…”

You tensed in spite of yourself, readying yourself for the sting of his words, readying your ears for the raising of his voice when you inevitably responded the wrong way to his criticism. His lips turned at the corners while he tried to push the words out. He must be disgusted with me. Repulsed. He must be so angry. 

“That old village of yours ain’t too keen on us sticking around. We thought it wasn’t gonna be a problem, seeing as we’re more than a mile out from that church anyways. But evidently, they know that we’re holed up here, and… they ain’t too happy about it.”

His words were muffled inside your head. “They know we’re here?”

“They’re not gonna hurt you,” he insisted. Joel’s posture had slowly risen until he was hunched forward in the bed, almost like he was curled in on himself, but now he made an effort to straighten his back and raise his chin. “They ain’t gettin’ anywhere near you. Don’t you worry about that. I’m only saying that we can’t stay here in the long term. We’ll need to be leaving soon unless we want the reverend to send some more men to pay us a visit.”

Your head, it wasn’t catching up to what Joel was saying. All you could manage to think first was that he was mad at someone else, not you. It echoed in your head until your brain got around to understanding. Then the anxious feeling in your gut only twisted deeper. 

“…more men?”

Joel’s eyes only widened some more, glaring into you with an expression only discernible as pity. 

“Couple of ‘em cornered Tommy and me yesterday on our rounds.” He pushed the words out slowly, like he was admitting to something horrible. “Said it was time to… to move on. Made it known that we weren’t gonna get another warning. I’m sure you can get some idea of how the conversation went.”

“We have to go now, then.” There was sudden haste in your voice that had Joel shuddering back, muscles sprung. “We need to pack all our stuff—be out by first light.”

“Whoa, easy now.” Joel’s hand shot out to grab at your shoulder, gently pulling you down before you could scramble off of the bed. “Just hold on a second. I ain’t planning on runnin’ with my tail between my legs. We’re not in that big a hurry, sugar.”

You shook your head, a cold sweat forming on your skin. “You don’t know what they’ll do.”

“I think I can just about guess the gist of it,” he countered. 

“Then you know why we can’t stay.”

His hand gripped your shoulder tighter. The contact sent something through you, grounding and more unsettling all at once. 

“I want to make sure we’re prepared for what’s out there,” Joel explained in a hoarse tone. “We got food, sure. We can find game on our trip if we need to stretch our supply. But there’s plenty of danger out there, you know that. Runners, clickers, whole swarms of infected.”

Joel made a disgusted, truly angry face. 

“And people.”

You scoffed, almost a laugh. “Seems you have more trouble with them than the infected.”

Joel ignored your comment. His expression was serious. “I want to make sure we can protect ourselves out there.”

It was your turn to avoid his gaze. You were slowly making your way back around to that realization he was going to have. If he hadn’t found a reason to be angry with you before, this was bound to be it. 

He noticed the change. “I’m not trying to scare you. I know we can make it to Boston. We will make it to Boston. I just need to think it through before we go out in the open.”

“I’m not…” you shuddered. Joel’s hand lifted off your shoulder, barely grazing your skin as he didn’t pull away all the way. “I can’t protect myself, Joel. It’s not that I’m scared, I’m… I’m just not capable.”

He scoffed. “What’re you talkin’ about? You’re one of the most capable people I know. You’ve kept this house together for weeks now. Kept us fed off of scraps I didn’t even know to call food. I’ve seen men twice your size struggle to chop wood like you. And I’ve seen you put up with me. Don’t know why you think you wouldn’t be capable.”

“I can’t shoot a gun.” You pulled away from him. “And I don’t know how to ride a horse. I think I’m gonna be slowing you down, trying to tag along to Boston. I think—I think I can’t ask you to drag me along.”

You expected Joel to agree with you. Or worse, get angry. Scold you for being so useless as to being unable to care for yourself. He only stared at you with a blank expression, though, setting your nerves on fire as you waited. After a moment, he laughed. Really, heartily, breathily laughed. His soft lips stretched across a bright white smile. Dark brown eyes crinkled at the edges and the chuckle that rose from his chest was loud and boisterous. Your heart hammered in your chest. 

His tone was…joking, almost. “Oh, honey. Don’t you ever worry about asking me for a damn thing. I don’t think you’re slowing me down at all. And you can shoot a gun, I’m sure of it. I’ll just bet that no one’s taken the time to show you how. Same with riding a horse. I can’t imagine you havin’ much trouble with that. Our horses already love you. You’ll pick it up quick.”

Your breathing was heavy enough that you could hear it in the gaps between his words. Joel’s face turned soft, less amused and more genuine, as he waited for you to respond to him. When he realized you were having trouble with that, he rethought his words. 

He added, “Let me show you how to shoot, sweetheart.”

Finally, your heartbeat calmed enough that you could hear your own thoughts again. Meekly, you nodded. 

“Good.” He brought his hand back up in front of you. You didn’t pull away, expecting a hand on your shoulder again, but his fingertips came to brush along the underside of your chin. He stood from the bed, making his way to the door without looking back at you. Joel stalled in the doorway for a second, not having heard any movement behind him. 

“C’mon now. No time like the present.”

Slowly, silently, you followed him outside. 

~~•~~

“Squeeze, don’t pull.”

There wasn’t much ammunition for you to waste on target practice, but Joel didn’t seem to mind the three missed shots you’d already taken. An empty can of pinto beans sat on the jagged stump of a willow tree, ungrazed by your bullets. Each time you’d aimed, your fingers had flinched or your wrist had jerked. After each shot, you instinctively hunched lower into your shoulders, expecting him to yell. 

But Joel’s voice was gentle as always. 

“You’re holdin’ the gun like it’s gonna jump out of your hand. Relax into it a little bit, sweetheart. You’re controlling the gun, not the other way around.”

Up until this point, he’d delivered instructions from a few feet away, not daring to step into your space to correct your grip or guide you with his touch. You nodded hesitantly at him, rolling your shoulders and lining the pistol up with the can as best you could. This time, you twitched before your finger even pressed against the trigger. Joel noticed your shiver. 

“If I can’t do this now, how am I supposed to shoot someone trying to kill me?” You tried not to let your voice sound too much like a whine. 

“You’re thinkin’ too much about it.” Joel stepped closer, just within your personal space. “I’m hopin’ it won’t come to you having to shoot anyone, but I know you can do it if you have to. You’ve just got to stop looking at the gun like it’s going to hurt you.”

“It’s a gun, Joel.”

He scoffed. “It’s a gun that you’re holding. You decide who—or in this case, what—exactly it hurts. Now come on, show that tin can who’s boss.”

Your body went rigid when you aimed again for the aluminum can. You forced a deep breath out of your lungs and tried your best to steady your hands. The sound of the shot echoed across the hills, and the dull, cracking impact of the bullet on dead wood tumbled back toward you. 

Joel’s hands were on yours before your heart had the chance to sink into your stomach. 

“Give me this for a second, sweetheart.”

You loosened your grip, allowing Joel to slip the gun out of your hands and into his. When he aimed for the can, you fought the instinct to cover your ears with your palms. 

“Sounds backward, but the more you tense up, the more you’re going to flinch.” He demonstrated a slack, secure grip with both of his hands folded around the gun. Joel held it like it was an extension of himself, the pistol sitting almost comfortable against his fingers. “Once you set your target, you just gotta commit to it. Look here.”

He gave a quick nod, then raised his chin to level his sight with the top of the gun. You stepped back as if it would do any good to lighten the sound of the shot. Sure enough, the bullet sliced the can clean through, sending it tumbling behind the stump. Joel clicked the safety on the pistol, shoving it in his belt to go and set another piece of scrap metal on the wood. 

“Give it another go.” He held the gun out to you and you gingerly took it in your hands. Immediately, you had forgotten the grip he’d shown you. Your hands fumbled around the base for a moment, until one of his snaked underneath. “Remember. High on the backstrap. Lock your wrists, not your fingers.”

He gently guided your hands into place, tapping on your thumb to signal for you to grip inward. Your fingers flexed against the barrel, and he added, “it’s not supposed to be comfortable, but it should feel stable.”

Eventually, you found the position of your hands that most resembled what he’d demonstrated. Joel backed away to give you space and your breath shuddered in your chest before you swallowed it down. You brought the barrel up to your line of sight, settling on the new can. 

A deep breath in, a deep breath out, and your finger slid down from the cage to rest on the trigger. 

Squeeze, don’t pull.

The sound of the shot made your ears ring, but that didn’t matter so much as the heat that spread through your chest and bubbled up in your throat. You switched the safety on the gun and let it rest idle in your hand, taking in the view before you. 

An empty stump, a dented can with a whole in its side lying at its base. 

“There you go, sugar. Told ya you could.” That mile-wide grin was back. His hand cupped your shoulder, closer to the back of your neck than anything. “Reckon with some practice you’ll be just as sharp as any of the rest of us.”

Your eyes lingered on the can. “Holy shit.”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” His fingers danced along the base of your skull. 

You scrunched your eyes. “How much more ammunition do we have?” 

“Enough to make sure you’ve got the hang of this.” Joel’s hand moved down between your shoulder blades, playfully tapping. “Now hurry along and put another can up there. Don’t wanna be late for dinner. Mateo says he’s making gumbo.”

“Out of what?” You smiled almost as wide as Joel. 

“Got no idea,” he chuckled. “Sure as hell can’t wait to find out, though.”

The sun was starting to dip behind the hills now, painting the sky with orange and pink and purple and red. As the light faded, your confidence grew. Each crumpled can made Joel’s grin brighter, made the weight in your shoulders a bit lighter. By the time he was leading you in to grab a bowl of food, you felt more alive than you had in years. 

Maybe you could ask him to drag you along. 

[billconrad]

Chekhov’s Gun

Wikipedia defines the phrase Chekhov’s Gun as a narrative principle that states that every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. The original example recorded in letters by Anton Chekhov discussed a character who shot somebody, but the writer failed to explain to the reader where the gun came from.

            Some writers disagree with this basic concept. For example, a Western has many armed characters, so there is no need to explain how a character obtained a gun. Another option is a story such as a mystery. It is intentional that there was never an explanation.

            I have a unique problem with Chekhov’s Gun concept because I assume readers can read my mind. I leave LOTS of story detail that never makes it onto the page. The result has been negative feedback.

What is going on? In electrical engineering, there is a term “too close to the wires.” The designer is so focused on minutia (my first time using this word) that they miss the big picture. I get so focused on the story that I forget about the reader.

Missing details is a writing crime. A story must make sense; a single inconsistency will confuse or upset the reader.

How can I avoid this problem? I have stumbled across a helpful tool. I now develop all my plots with outlines. This high-level approach allows me to spot this exact type of problem. Yet, there are still minor issues that crop up.

To identify these little buggers, I now make one editing pass specifically to locate plot problems. This is one of the last passes because editing often introduces minor issues.

For example, in a book I am working on, the main character has a backpack with a walkie-talkie radio. So… Where did he get it? Umm? Fortunately, I caught that mistake in time.

However, I have another problem. In the above example, I still do not see the lack of explanation as a big deal. “Obviously, the character got the radio from somewhere. He probably found it in a drawer, or it was a gift. Nobody cares. No big deal.” It IS a big deal, and it is taking a lot of effort to change my outlook.

Does this mean that all writers must spoon-feed facts to the readers? I used to think this was bad writing, but I no longer do. It is the goal of a writer to provide facts entertainingly. Chekhov’s Gun exemplifies the importance of keeping the reader in mind and ensuring they are happy. You’re happy with this article. Right?  

    You’re the best -Bill

    August 30, 2023

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[anticipatedexhale]

What Were We All Along? (Part.2)

Summary:you always thought that it was too good to be true, the outcast dating the popular cheerleader,how cliche.But after an event you find that your theory was correct maybe after all it was too good to be true.

Warnings: sad reader, angst to fluff, cursing, a lot of feelings, this is a part 2 to my previous fic,a really stupid rushed ending, i hate this so much help, um kissing? Idk

part 1.

~~

The last couple of days were hell for both you and Eddie, Eddie has tried multiple times apologizing yet he never got the forgiveness he wanted.

Well mainly because he was sending you gifts, not talking to you like a normal person would which made you even madder, if he so badly wanted your forgiveness shouldn't be here right now standing in front of you explaining?.

You sighed, grabbing the 100th flower bouquet he sent. Staring at it you noticed something odd about it.

A note, a note is what you saw, you slowly held it into your hand looking at the writing. You immediately knew it was Eddies handwriting, it was messy just like him.

"Meet me at our spot at 8 tonight please -Eddie" his name had that stupid heart beside it, you were thinking of not going, but you knew that he wouldn't give up, Knowing Eddie he'd probably bring you the world at your feet just for forgiveness.

"I think it's sweet he's doing that" Nancy pulled you out of your trance, sneaking behind you.

"You should go, really i know what he did is stupid but you can't keep avoiding him your whole life" it's pure logic really she was right and you knew that, but you couldn't get yourself to look at those pretty brown eyes not after what happened.

"You really think i should go?" Your voice is filled with genuine curiosity, she only hummed "Trust me if you don't you'll regret it." That's all she said before leaving you alone in the room with nothing but your brain making up so many scenarios.

But of course life goes on and 8pm was slowly arriving. The sound of your clock ticking broke the tense silence.

Soon enough you had the guts to go get dressed and head to the spot.

Once you arrived it was already beginning to get dark the sun saying its last goodbyes as it painted the sky a red-orange color.

You noticed the boy with frizzy curly hair running around in circles nervously waiting, obviously waiting for you.

"Hi" you said, his eyes immediately shot up,you saw the glimmer of hope that flickered in his eyes.

"Hi"he said breathlessly not believing you were actually in front of him.

"So why'd you bring me here?" You questioned, he looked nervous he looked scared almost.

He took a deep breath "Look Y/N i really wanted to talk to you about what happened a few days ago can you please hear me out" he said desperately trying to get you to cooperate.

He didn't care if you rejected his apology he needed to explain everything that happened.

You both sat down on a bench nearby after you've agreed to give him a chance and hear him out.

"You can start now" you said, "Yeah-yeah right ok um well as you know it's true,i mean like the bet,but please before you react i want to tell you that I've loved you for so long, longer than the bet. The bet gave me a door of opportunity for me you know?"

He noticed that you were still quiet so he continued "This was never a lie, we were never a lie, I've loved you for so long, and im not about to make it all disappear because of a stupid bet, you know I rejected the money a couple of bucks is worth nothing against receiving your love".

His voice was wavy at the end, hand creeping closer to yours slowly entwining with yours.

Tears pricked your eyes as you heard his little speech. You turned to him, you searched your eyes silently, waiting for a response hoping you wouldn't just get up and leave.

But he didn't expect you to be grabbing him by the collar and kissing him. He immediately kissed back with no hesitation hand sliding up your neck to your face holding your cheek softly.

You both pulled, "So i think that's a yes?" You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic question before pulling back for another kiss.

It wasn't a lie after all you thought, maybe it was all going to be ok.

[igotanidea]

COUNTERPARTS : Morpheus x OC

Summary: Kayleen was born to be the embodiment of Reality. Protector of the Waking World and Keeper of the Order. Naturally, that makes her a counterpart of the Dream of The Endless. Despite their differences in both approach to life and characters they are forced to work together to keep balance between Dreaming and Waking. Thank God, they are both professionals who DO NOT fight or engage emotionally….. Or do they?

Pairing: Morpheus x OC 

A/N: You can find Kayleen’s origin in the prologue, but I’d like to explicitly say that she is human (and so, has human needs), but also immortal, considering the role she was given.

prev/ next

 Chapter 1

Sometimes reality sucks.

From my observations there are four groups of people in this world, and though it may seem a little bit far-fetched they can be divided if you try hard enough.

First group is the one who are completely out of touch with reality. The ones who are sad, or even depressed, suicidal, emotionally deranged. They don’t have a care in the world. Long story short, walking zombies.

Secondly, the bunch of people who get up, get on with their day, fulfilling it with duties, task and obligations only to wish to get through till weekend to unwind a bit. I call them The Hamsters because they keep spinning their wheel but basically every day is the same for them.  

Thirdly, people who are perfectly content with what they have. Their reality is everything they need and more. Those are the ones who either worked hard to make their dreams come true and now derive from it or the ones who don’t have bigger ambitions and just take what they’re given. Either way, those are the happiest.

Finally, the last group. The Day-Dreamers. I’m not supposed to say that but I think those are my favorites. If you are the kind of person who search deeper than just what you see on the first glance, if you want something more from reality, if you dare to ask questions and search for the answers you will fit right in. Why settle, right? Think bigger. It’s good. Well, at least as long as you don’t let those dreams consume you, because most likely you will end up in group one.

Anyhow. Since my birth I was assigned a task to keep all of those people safe. To make sure that they are not in danger, that none of the Endless won’t interfere too much. Obviously, it was hard to keep Destiny at bay – he’s a self-made man and to be honest, a bit terrifying at times. Death has her own ways, but she never abuses her power. Destruction left some time ago so this one’s of the list. Desire can’t be controlled by anyone, always meddling with everyone’s affair. This one is a troublemaker for sure and have caused me a lot of trouble. So is its twin – Despair, but I don’t have to do with her that much, she prefers being lonely. Delight, ever since she became Delirium, was cut off, so the only one left is … Dream.

The Endless call us the counterparts. Hell, ever people believe that we are. You know what I mean? Dream and Reality. A very, very, very thin wall between those two realms. So easy to break. Thankfully, Dream is compliant with the established rules (DO NOT CROSS), so he’s not that problematic. However, there are times when we need to cooperate. Like one time when there was a lucid dreamer. Or that time when someone literally forgot to live because of some crazy fantasies Dream planted in his head. …

Flashback

-          Watch out, mister! – I grabbed the man’s hand in the last moment to save him from the rushing car. – You might wanna be more careful

-          Thank you, miss. I don’t know what I was thinking. Guess my head is elsewhere.

-          Yes. I suppose it is -  I carefully looked straight into his eyes. – Tell me what’s on your mind.

-          I imagine myself somewhere far away from this place. From my work, my wife who doesn’t love me, my ungrateful son and friends who would stab me in the back with the first opportunity they get. Do you ever get that feeling?

-          Like what?

-          Like you want to get away?

-          Well, I …..

-          I’ve always dreamt of travelling exotic places, exploring, living an exciting life, maybe sharing it with other people. I mean, social media gives us so many opportunities now, don’t they? I could become rich and famous and…. – he got more excited with every said word, squeezing my hand harder and harder to the point where it started to hurt.

-          Sir. I need you to open your eyes now. – I say firmly, my voice resonating – You are on the Street of London. You are a journalist. You have a stable job in which you use your talents. And you actually love it. Your wife is going through a crisis, she believes you don’t need her anymore and that’s why she became distant. As for your son – he’s not ungrateful. He’s hurt because you shoved him off last time he needed your help. That’s what’s real. Nothing is stopping you from fixing it, since you know it now. Now. You are going to become steady and wide-awake. We can’t risk you getting hurt, can we?

-          Yes. Yes, of course miss. You’re absolutely right. Thank you again and have a good day – with that he left, but just to be sure he won’t get into any more trouble I send some protective energy towards his, almost seeing the bubble surrounding him as he went.

-          Time to pay a little visit in the Dreaming – I said to myself.

As I came back home I stood in front of the simple blue door with no doorknob.

-          Take me to the Dreaming – I whispered.

Soon enough I found myself standing on the sand in front of the enormous gate – entrance to the Dreaming. I felt my skin tingle. Crossing the borders of Realms was always a bit exhausting, leaving me lightheaded, but I would lie if I said that I didn’t like it. Whether we choose it or not, Dream and Reality are two sides of the same coin. Obviously it doesn’t; mean anything in our relationship, which is strictly professional. He’s the kind of person who would rather go through hell than show any sign of liking.

-          I require an audience with the Lord of the Dreaming. Dream of The Endless. The King of Nightmares.  – Or whatever title he uses, I thought, but for obvious reason didn’t say that out loud.

With a gentle creak the gates started to open and the Dreaming in its full glory showed up. No matter how hard I tried this place always took my breath away. It has everything that reality was so often missing. At least the Dream section. I assure you, none of you would be as delighted with the Nightmare part of the Kingdom.

-          Greetings. Lady Kayleen. – gate guard, the griffin spoke.

-          Greetings Greyclaw. I’m no Lady, which I have to remind you every time. Still, wonderful to see you as always. I need to speak with your master on the rather urgent matter. Hope he’s on premises.

-          Indeed. Kayleen. I shall take to you to the palace. Yet, I must warn you, His Majesty is in a rather gloomy mood, I dare say so.

-          When isn’t he? – I sighed and followed Greyclaw through the Fiddler’s Green. As we walked some familiar Dreams came to say their hello. It was always exhilarating to let my mind fly with them. Something I was not allowed to do in the Waking. I’m not going to lie – having to be watchful and keep my feet on the ground was hard. Sometimes. Leaving me weary. It was nice to relax every now and then.

-          I shall leave you here, Kayleen. His Majesty expect you.

-          Thank you Greyclaw.

I quickly ascend the steps to the castle, greeted by Merv, the Pumpkin Head, who made a joke about how I look so unreal since it was long since my last visit. I knew it was impolite to keep the Ruler waiting but I couldn’t restrain myself from  a little visit in the Library, where my friend Lucienne was working. Just a quick glance, I promised myself.

-          Lucienne?

-          Kayleen?

-          It’s so wonderful to see you, Librarian.

-          Likewise, my dear. What brings you to the Dreaming. No trouble I hope.

-          I wouldn’t say trouble but I believe Dream and I should have a talk about some recent event in the Waking. Those may be of his concern as well as mine. – I sighed – Any new book appearing lately?

-          A few. You would love them.

-          If you say so. I will surely have a look at them later on, but now….

-          You must follow to the more important matters.

-          Indeed.

-          I’ll have Jessamy announce you.

-          That won’t be necessary. He already knows.

It seems like my words meant nothing though, because as I approached the Throne Room a Raven flew right in front of me, and made some circles in the air before finally landing on the arm of a dark-clothed man. He was standing on the steps, not even facing me, his long black coat cascading in the steps.

-          Lord of the Dreams – I spoke firmly – I believe this meeting is long overdue.

-          Indeed it is, Reality. – he still did not turn toward me, his eyes locked on the stained glass in front of him

-          It would be nice to actually have a face to face conversation, though.

Finally, slowly (I bet it was just for the effect) he shifted towards me. His eyes locked on mine as he spoke with his deep voice.

-          Welcome, Kayleen. – almost invisible sign of smile on his lips.  

-          Hello, Morpheus.

-          Been a while.

-          Quite a while.

This was clearly getting quite uncomfortable for both of us. I should get to my point before it gets worse than that.

-          I need you to take control of your Kingdom, Dream. Apparently, some of your subjects were invading the Waking long after their reign ended. You know well enough they have no power during the day. This has been occurring for a while in the last couple days. I can’t have people walking in front of vehicles all the time. This may cause a commotion, which I’m sure none of us want.

-          It’s so bold of you to come here and tell me what I should do, don’t you think – his footsteps echoing through the wall , his voice cold as ice, and yet his eyes were somehow glowing. – You’re still a guest in the Dreaming, even if the honored one. The only thing in your power is to ask me for help and not demand it.

Damn his stubborn ass and his space-blown ego. He can’t hurt me here, cause he’d be damaging reality. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction he wants. I will not beg.

-          I actually can. You have your duties as well as I.

-          I’m perfectly aware of my duties and the rules that were set. -  He was now standing in front of me, slightly taller so to my dislike I had to look up at him. His dark hair, a mess, as usual, his face paler than I remembered, and his eyes, a space showing you so many universes, you could actually get lost. Defeated I looked away, but he used his index finger to turn my chin up again. And said nothing. Utter silence. Not  a single sound, ever from Jessamy. Felt like the whole life was swept out of Realm. I almost got lost. Key word being almost. My gaze hardened.

-          Will you help me – I moved myself for a safe space, away from his reach.

A shadow run through Dream’s face when he promised to do so.

-          Shall I call on the Dream who causes such havoc in the Waking? Shall I have said talk to you?

-          No. It’s your realm after all. Those are your subjects and ….. – I started , but then I realized what Morpheus might do to the one defying him. He wasn’t particularly gentle with one of his ex lovers , Nada who did so. From what I know, he literally sent her to hell. – Actually, my Lord – I don’t know why he flinched when I used that title – if you so generously allow, I would love to talk to that Dream.

-          Very well then. I shall summon said.

He moved away from me, his coat sweeping the floor. I cant; lie, putting aside all of that cold behavior and coldness he was graceful. It’s for the best that he stays in the Dreaming most of the time. If he showed up in the Waking more often I would have to deal with way to many daydreaming about him women. This would probably end up with me tampering with their memory and I really hate breaking the rule that states I can only reveal the Truth to people. Not manipulate their mind so they can get the real picture. Well, sometimes we need to turn to desperate measures.

-          Lady Kayleen? – my thoughts were interrupted by a soft, gentle voice

-          I’m no Lady. Just the name – I replied automatically

-          Were you staring? Or maybe daydreaming – unlike himself Morpheus, who switched places and was sitting on his throne decided to mock me.

-          Don’t you forget you are called not only Dream but also a King of Nightmares. I believe I saw that other side and now I can’t shake it. – I knew I was playing with Fire. Saying those words, with such tone and in the presence of the citizens of the Dreaming could end me up faster than I could think. His eyes darkened but he said nothing.

-          I can’t skip the title, Lady Kayleen – the voice spoke again and this time I actually looked at the being it belonged to. A dream. A tall, lean iridescent figure with butterfly wings. It looked so young and inexperienced for the purpose it was set to.

-          Tell me your name, Dream.

-          It’s Axel, my lady.

-          Are you the one, who’s been making people daydream? Endangering them? Causing trouble in the Waking?

-          I am.

-          Why would you do that? – It was quite unlikely for Morpheus to just sit there and watch the whole scene without a word. I can sense something is not right here. Let’s have a little check then. – I believe you should explain yourself to your king rather than to me.

There was no change on Morpheus face but his eyes locked with mine for a brief moment.

-          You heard the Lady, Dream. Explain yourself.

-          My Lord – Axel slowly approached the Throne, just a few steps but stopped as he met Morpheus’s cold gaze – It was never my intention. I merely did what I was created for. Give people dreams. Make their life more colorful, more joyful, make them forget about the trouble.

-          You are supposed to do that only when they sleep. You have no power to invade their waking life.

-          I’m sorry my Lord.

-          You shall be. Your actions cause danger not only to the Waking but also the Dreaming. That also forced Lady Kayleen to abandon her post and came to beg me for help.

Ok, that’s a HUGE exaggeration. And diminishment since like I said I would never beg. Yet again, Dream can be such a drama queen.

-          I shall never overstep again my lord – Axel was almost on the floor. Terrified. As Morphueus rise from his throne I softly looked at him, shaking my head. “Don’t” – I said silently scanning him with my eyes.

-          You are lucky you have a protector  – he spoke. – Rise Dream. I shall keep my eye on you. So. You. Better. Watch. Yourself.

Yes. He made each word a single sentence.

-          Thank you my Lord – Axel stood up and as fast as he could run away from the room.

When I was sure no one would hear us I turned to Morpheus who, again, was standing too close. Personal space was never a concept he would understand. A so-mortal-idea.

-          That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

-          We must preserve order of things. You know that well enough.

-          Of course, but keep the cost of that in mind.

-          Are you trying to preach me in my own Realm?

-          I would not dare to do so. I have no authority here after all, do I? – I frowned

-          You know that is not true. Whether I like it or not. – he muttered under his breath.

-          I know you’re not a big fan of me. So I shall not prolong this visit anymore. Until next time, Dream Lord.

-          Farewell Kayleen.

End of flashback

Like I said, our relationship is strictly professional and it serves both parties well enough.  

next part: chapter 2

[naminethewriter]

Logan Lost

A while ago, @thecrowslullaby sent me a horrible challenge to start a cooperative story with the prompt

"What do you mean you misplaced [them/him/her/etc.]"

While it was intended to only be the start, I had a solution in mind, so I thought why not share that! So here is my version of the story but here is the last addition to the original thread.

I also made it a Loceit story, a little thank you to Crow 💛💙

Here on Ao3

“What do you mean you misplaced Logan?!” Janus exclaimed, staring disbelievingly at Remus who shrunk a bit under his gaze.

“I wanted to show him my new castle so we went to the imagination. I took the lead and told him about my process, you know he likes to know the steps, but when I turned around he was gone! I went back the whole way calling for him but nothing!”

“So you’re saying he’s on your side all alone?!? How many monsters do you have roaming around out there?!”

“He should be fine! All my creations know he’s not to be harmed, same as you!”

“What about injuries! Tripping hazards! Cliffs! Spikes! You have those everywhere!”

“Well, what do you want me to do?!”

“Find him obviously!”

“I tried!”

“Try harder!”

“What are you two yelling about??” Janus grimaced for half a second before turning to face the other twin with a forced smile.

“Nothing important. Remus simply… misplaced something that’s rather dear to me on his side of the Imagination. I was just asking him to retrieve it,” he hissed, glaring at Remus, daring him to say anything more specific on the matter.

“And I was telling him it’s not that easy,” Remus shot back, pouting a little. Roman looked between the two warily.

“Must’ve been something rather important to you if you yell like that,” he commented. Janus simply shrugged, not willing to say anything else. “I could help look if you tell me what it is.”

“As much as I appreciate your kindness, my prince, it is my understanding that you are not very welcome on Remus’ side and constant monster attacks would be more distracting than helpful, I’m afraid.” Roman frowned.

“Remus can just tell them off, right?” He turned to his brother. Janus stared pointedly at Remus but he didn’t need to worry.

“I could, but I’m not gonna. It’s too much fun. Plus I don’t think I could stop myself from stabbing you in the back when you least expect it.” His grin was wide and made Roman shudder.

“Fine, fine. Don’t say I didn’t offer. Good luck to you then.”

“Thank you. We better be off then. We wouldn’t want to miss dinner and make Patton worry.” Janus moved to grab Remus and pull him toward the portal but Roman spoke up again.

“Wait! Have either of you seen Logan? I can’t find him and I need his input on the next script.”

“I haven’t seen him since breakfast,” Janus said, trying to stay composed.

“Remus?” A pause and Janus prayed that Remus could keep his impulses under control.

“Haven’t seen him in a while,” he chirped finally. Technically the truth, Janus thought before again pulling Remus toward the portal.

“Sorry we couldn’t be of help, Roman, but we must be off now. Good luck on your search!” he called over his shoulder, shoving Remus through the gate and quickly following after before Roman could protest.

***********

The search was long and filled with bickering. The worry for his boyfriend had Janus on edge and Remus still didn’t understand what the big deal was. His side of the Imagination was great! Logan should be fine. But if Janus was going to be snippy with him, he was going to shoot back. Maybe just because he thought it was fun.

After one and a half hour Janus held up his hand, causing Remus to slap his own over his mouth and stopped him mid-rant. He growled to show his displeasure but Janus just shushed him.

“Do you hear that?” Indeed, there was noise coming from deeper in the woods, off the path they were currently walking on. Voices. Still unable to speak, Remus hummed in acknowledgment. Janus, as if he just noticed what he had made Remus do, let him drop his hand.

“Let’s go see,” Janus said before carefully stepping through the underbrush. Remus simply strut forward, stepping into thorn bushes and sharp stones without even flinching. Janus rolled his eyes but let him take the lead. It didn’t take them long to find the source of the voices.

Logan was sitting on a large tree trunk, notebook in hand and fiercely scribbling something down. Across from him lay a gigantic… creature. Janus couldn’t even begin to describe it but a large portion of its body disappeared overhead into the trees as it was wrapped around several pines close by. He might guess that Remus had been inspired by Chinese dragons initially but whatever had added afterwards to make it look like it did he had no idea. Logan seemed entirely fascinated by it though. His hand never stilled, continuously writing down information as he asked question after question and intently listening to the creature’s answers. Neither seemed to have noticed their approach. Janus stopped, cautious of the creature but Remus sauntered up to them without hesitation.

“Poodle Noodle! What are you doing with our nerd?” Janus knew of Remus’ naming convention but still the silly name surprised him. The creature – Noodle apparently – turned its head towards them.

“Your highness,” it said in greeting, its voice carrying a sense of old wisdom. “What an honour to meet you once again.” It dipped its head in a way that Janus could only assume to be a bow. Remus waved them off.

“Don’t be formal, it’s gross.”

“Very well. I came across your ‘nerd’ observing a swarm of spiderflies. I thought it better to warn him not to touch them.” Janus sighed, turning to Logan who looked properly embarrassed, cheeks tinted red.

“Darling, did you wander off to research Remus’ creatures again? We agreed you would not go alone.”

“I apologize,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses and nervously fiddling with his notebook. “I saw something move in the corner of my eye while we were on our way to the castle and I only intended to stop for a moment to see what it could have been. I must have unintentionally followed it and when I realized I was for off the path. I was trying to find my way back when I came across the colony and that’s when Mx Noodle came by and offered to answer some of my questions.”

“I was going to escort him back once his curiosity was sated,” the creature added. Janus massaged his temples. Having both Remus as his best friend and Logan as his boyfriend could be so stressful. Their impulse control was nearly non-existent, he really wondered if he could leave them alone with each other anymore.

“That was very kind of you but I’m afraid his curiosity could never be sated.” Logan had the decency to flush an even deeper red before clearing his throat and getting up.

“I guess it would be better if I returned with them for now but I enjoyed our conversation immensely, Mx Noodle. Thank you for your time.”

“I did so as well. Please feel free to come visit again. His highness knows where to find me.” With another bow towards Remus, the creature slithered away, deeper into the woods though it took about a minute until its tail appeared from the treetops and subsequently vanished after them. Janus sighed again.

“Another incident like this and I will not allow you two to come here unsupervised. Or chained together so you can’t lose each other.”

“Kinky~” Remus grinned. Janus just rolled his eyes before grabbing his boyfriend’s hand.

“Come on. Roman was searching for you and it’s almost dinner time.”

“Alright.” Logan followed without complaint but spoke up again a few minutes into their trek. “I apologize if I worried you. That was not my intention.”

“I’m aware. But please be more mindful in the future.”

“Of course.” Janus squeezed Logan’s hand still grasped in his own and his boyfriend smiled slightly before squeezing back.

[selene-stories]

"Sleep."

"With the fishes?"

"What? No, I mean--"

"Ohh" hero said, "Then perhaps you want me to sleep with you~" they threw a wink at Villain's direction.

Shockingly, Villain's voice turned into a squeak, "No! I mean literal. Sleeping. By yourself."

Sadly for them, they were met with utter confusion.

"That isn't what you are supposed to say."

Aand there we go again.

"For the last time" Villain was practically chasing hero around the room by that point.

"There is no script that I have to follow."

"Yes, there is", Hero said as they hopped over a stray shirt on the floor.

"First, you threaten to blow something up."

"I don't have to-- Just come here!"

Hero dodged, causing Villain to chocke down a frustrated scream. Two days. Two freaking days and the hero was still standing, having gotten no wink of sleep and now Villain- Villain of all people- had to chase them around so they would go to bed.

Villain did not get nearly enough credit.

"Then i stop you." Hero went on explaining the proper procedure. "And after that--"

"Don't touch my stuff."

"Kay" hero replied, only for them to start poking at every single thing on Villain's desk.

"Anyway, I stop you and then you start flirting with me", they ignored Villain's protests, "and then I swoon but try to hide it, but you see my blush anyway so you purr seductive things at me." A pause, "and maybe pin me down, that is a classic."

Villain opened their mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

They had no clue where to start.

About Hero supposedly wining against Villain, Villain needing to resort to flirting of all things, or the fact that it would make the hero swoon, apparently, or-

Villain nearly tackled them. "Don't touch my things!"

Hero yelped as they both hit the ground but at least that way they were too distracted to notice Villain's retreating blush.

"Why? What are you hiding??"

"My socks hero. Dear God. Do you think I have a bomb in my drawers or something? In case you haven't noticed, this is my own fucking room!"

In a matter of seconds Hero had Villain pinned to the floor. Villain didn't give a damn; They reached for the lamp cause if a hit to the head was what it took, then so be it. Hero was going to rest whether they wanted to or not.

Only that before they could reach it, Hero shoved Villain's wrists further onto the carpet, making their skin tingle. It was just because of the friction though, obviously.

"You know" they said, as some strands of honey blond hair slid from behind their ears, "you should be the one doing this."

"Th-this?" Villain asked, disoriented. What, did they have to be the one to pass out from exhaustion just because they disobeyed the law? Was that some ridiculous form of punishment they weren't informed about?

Hero squeezed their wrists and Villain acted as if their breath didn't hitch.

Then, slowly but surely, Hero leaned close enough for their breath to ghost over their opponent's lips.

"Seducing me."

Villain's heart aggressively bumped against their ribcage, but they remained perfectly still. Even if they wanted to move, their body refused to cooperate. Not that being under Hero was as bad as Villain initially thought.

"Ah. I see. But, you should still head to bed though."

"Make me" they purred.

"Hero, I swear-" Villain would have a heart attack at this rate.

Hero chuckled brightly, dazedly, head tilting a bit to the side.

"I know, I know."

And then there was a lack of a warm, comforting body against their own and Villain had half a mind not to pull them back in.

"Fine" Villain huffed, trying not to think of their ancestors booing from the heavens. "I'll sleep with you."

"Yay!"

"I mean it literally" Villain started to say, only that Hero had already began snuggling against their shoulder.

"W-what are you doing?"

Big, pure eyes lifted to meet theirs and Villain couldn't help inhaling sharply at the sight.

"Sleeping."

"You're supposed to sleep on a bed."

"Why?"

"Because!" What kind of question was that?? "Do I really have to explain why people sleep on beds?"

Hero hummed while leaving more and more of their weight on their sworn enemy.

Their eyelids fluttered closed.

"Well, i'll tell you why since you are that stupid."

"Mhm."

"Your back will be sore in the morning."

Hero responded by grabbing fistfulls of Villain's shirt and releasing, grabbing and releasing. Suddenly, all Villain could see was a sleepy kitten searching for warmth, and there was no going back from that.

They shut their mouth when they realised nonsensical sounds came pouring out, and with as much grace as possible they stretched out their hand. Hero moaned in complaint. Even though Villain's heart flat out died, they managed to keep their voice even and soft. It only seemed to relax Hero further.

"Good, just a bit more."

Once they had the blanket, they used it to cover the vulnerable Hero's sleeping form. Not that Villain would ever, not even in a million years admit, but Hero putting their trust in Villain made their insides turn to mush. It made Villain want to hold them, snuggle them, keep them safe for as long as they could. Maybe even forever.

There was no way Villain approved of Hero's antics, but maybe, just maybe, staying awake for this long had its perks. Gently, they pulled hero closer and run their hand through their ruffled, blond hair.

They were still scolding the heck out of Hero when this was over, but for now they got comfortable and let themself fall asleep.

[sweet-demiboi]

Well. Mhmmm, I was thinking of being the other King of Asgard and maybe also a God? (maybe the God of Knolagde). And maybe the Avengers need help so Thor asks his Husband😜 and that of course, means that the Avengers will meet him and maybe kinda fangirl? Oooh I'm so stupid, I forgot to ask, do we need to describe our personality? Cause if so I'm rather shy.

Also feel free to message if you need any clarifications.

Thanks!

Thor x Male!Reader

Plot: Requested

Warnings: Hm... bad English? A bit angst, but really not much

.............................................................................................................................

You were having trouble in your mind. You sat outside in the beautiful gardens of Asgard's palace, admiring the beauty of the nature around you. But it wasn't able to clear your mind of the concerned thoughts you were thinking about for the past days now.

Thor had promised to inform you about everything that was happening in his life on Midgard but he had neither sent a message nor had he visited Asgard by himself. You were seriously concerned about your husband.

You got up from the chair you were sitting on before and started walking around the gardens. No other god or goddess disturbed you as they could clearly see that you were trying to focus on your problems.

At least that was something you could do really well, after all you were the god of knowledge and wisdom. Different scenarios played in your imagination and you didn't notice the person standing next to you until they laid a hand on your shoulder.

Your head went straight up and in the matter of just a few seconds, you had pulled out your dagger and were putting it against the intruders throat.

"Whoa, keep calm, (Y/N)!", Thor laughed with raised hands. You sank your weapon and looked at him with an accusing look in the eyes. "Why didn't you tell me about your days? I was concerned.", you asked with crossed arms.

Thor smiled but looked a bit defeated at the same time "I am sorry, my love, but I wasn't able to send you a message. The mission we're working on right now is quite hard.", he stepped closer to you and took your hands in his own, big and warm ones. His blue eyes had a pleading look in them "I should have told you about it earlier, I'm sorry." A small smile spread on his lips as well as on your own.

"I'm still mad.", you informed him "But not as mad as before." Of course your husband could've handle the situation otherwise but everyone made mistakes sometimes although Thor didn't want to hear that. You decided that you had forgiven him, but wouldn't tell him now.

"So, why are you here?", you asked "Obviously something's up." The god of thunder smiled, you knew that he loved it, when you acted smart "I need your help with that mission I was talking about before." You nodded slightly and and started slowly walking with his hand in yours. "Tell me about it.", you demanded, so he told you:

"Hydra is active again, it's a terror-group, which managed to hide from us for quite some time now, but we managed to get a few hints from some... shady people. If we could crack the code they gave us, we could handle them! This coded message can tell us their location! But sadly... we couldn't crack it until now."

"That means you want me to help you with that message?", you understood. Thor nodded "You're the god of knowledge and wisdom!", he took both of your hands in his and stood before you, excited and with pleading eyes "Please! Please, (Y/N), help me!" You smirked slightly and whispered: "Of course."

Thor smiled brightly, cupped your cheeks and kissed you pasionately on the lips. Oh boy, how you had missed that! His warm lips on yours, his body pressed against your own and rising together in that bubble of love for each other. His tongue found its way into your mouth and played eagerly with your own. You slung your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself.

You looked deeply into each others eyes after this kiss. "Let's do that code!", you whispered against his now swollen lips, which showed you a big smile now.

.............................................................................................................................

Over all this excitement you had forgotten that you were rather shy towards new people, so you grabbed the hand of your husband while Heimdall was bringing you to earth. Thor's thumb brushed slightly over the back of your hand, calming you a little bit.

Suddenly you stood on the top of the Avengers tower, Thor had already told you about. The outlook you had over New York was stunning and something you had never seen before. "It's beautiful, isn't it?", Thor asked next to you and you were only able to nod. He closed your mouth with putting a finger under your chin, smirking when you blushed slightly.

"Oh, Thor, you're here again!", a man with sunglasses and an expensive looking suit walked over to you. It had to be Tony Stark, who your husband had also talked about. "And you must be his charming, smart husband he always talks about!", he gifted you a smile and put out his hand for you to shake it.

"That's right, Tony Stark.", you shook his hand a bit nervously, but he didn't seem to notice. "I guess Thor already told you about our problem?"

"I wouldn't be here, if he had not.", you answered and Tony laughed, already guiding you inside. You weren't pleased by seeing even more people in the conference-room, where you had just walked in. The looks were on you, the other Avengers seemed interested in your presence and someone was walking towards you.

"Hello, my name is Steve Rogers.", he shook your hand "Thank you for the cooperation.", he acted a bit nervous himself, but you just smiled and introduced yourself too.

"Where's this code I'm here for?", you asked. A red-haired woman in a black suit came to you and gave you a piece of old-looking paper. "We tried to figure it out with countless programs, but nothing worked.", she had a slight russian accent, and looked you up and down.

You took the paper out of her hand and looked briefly at it "No wonder, I don't think any computer or even program was invented in the time this language was spoken, Ms Romanoff."

"Wait a moment, it's a language?", a man, Clint Barton, asked with crossed arms. "How could you figure that out so fast?", another one interfered, who had to be Sam Wilson. "The structure and signs in the text are similar to old-greek although it's way older. It might be an old japanese text, as there are still some people who can translate it. Give me an hour and you'll have a translation."

The group was starring at you with surprised looks, which made you a bit uncomfortable, so you looked over to your husband, searching for help. Thor came right next to you and requested the others to get out that you could concentrate. "Can we keep him?", Bucky mouthed to Thor, who rolled his eyes smilingly, but you felt very flattered as Thor had told you that the 'man with a metal arm' wasn't trusting people fastly.

"They already like you.", Thor commented, when everyone had gotten out of the room. "Looks like so... it's calming that I'm not the only one who is nervous." Your husband laughed a little and caressed your cheek. "I wish you good luck with the code.", you smirked "I don't need luck." Thor smirked back "Have fun." He kissed you softly and left the room too.

You weren't mad anymore. How could you? You loved him.

I found time a bit earlier! :D Hope you enjoy it, @marilynmonroefanfics

[yandere-daydreams]

I'm not sure if anyone has asked you this, but how would you imagine the Spirit of Halloween be as Yandere? The mischievous tricky type searching for a forever vi-- I mean friend to play with for all eternity? To play twisted trick to make the person be unable to distinguish reality due to constant fear? If they try to tell anyone, their friends or family member would just brush it off as nothing since it's October. That its just the wind howling in the night. A tree branch tapping their window

tw - stalking, non-consensual touching, obsessive mindsets, implied imprisonment.

To be fair, it never starts as horrific as it gets. Halloween's about tricks, about pranks, about watching your friends jump and scream and laugh, afterwards, when they realize the object of their terror was little more than a plastic spider or a rubber snake. It always starts out small - misplaced objects, chapstick stolen off of your bedside table, a window you can vividly remember closing and locking before you went to sleep found open, the next morning, letting the heat seep out of your cramped apartment and the biting Autumn chill take its place. You catch a cold, once or twice, have to make a few unexpected supply-runs for sugar and candy and all the other sweet, trivial things they like to take, but it's nothing you can't live without, nothing you can't blame on a neighbor's creative cat or your own forgetfulness. It's nothing you can't ignore, even if ignoring the tapping on your window in the middle of the night takes a little effort, sometimes.

And, of course, it escalates, because it always escalates. You feel hands on you, in the middle of the night, fingers brushing against your jaw, palms pressing into the small of your back, not that anyone's ever there when you turn around to check. Other things, different things, begin to disappear. Books you forgot to put away, all appropriate for the season. Costumes that've been living in the back of your closet for years, some bought, some hand-made, all missing, gone without a trace when you think to look for them. Posters for horror movies, all of your favorites, all films you've seen a hundred times, not that you plan on re-watching any of them, this year. There's something watching you, all the time, every day, even after you stop going outside, locking yourself away, cutting yourself off from the outside world just to try and keep whatever's out there from getting in again and again and again. It doesn't work, obviously. They're still there, right next to you, slotted against your side, curled around you, laughing as they tell you not to be so serious, not to be so boring.

You've always been so good for them, so cooperative, and they've always liked playing with you so much, even if you haven't been as lively, lately, as willing to brush off their... less harmless tricks. You're still sweet, though, and they still like you. They still want to play with you.

And they'll give you all the time you need to learn to play along.