#i tried to make it where like the a side is the public perception

[bossbtch1]

Golden Boy of America

Summary : What if Steve Rogers wasn't the revered symbol of American virtue that everyone believed him to be? Contrary to the public perception of his kindness and charm, you've come to realize it was all a façade. Now, you find yourself in a nightmarish scenario—kidnapped and bound, questioning everything you thought you knew about the man once hailed as the golden boy of America.

Pairings : Dark!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Words : 6,9k

General tags : SMUT, 18+, NSFW

TW : dark fic, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, degradation, non-con, dirty talk, oral sex, smut, vibrator, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, rough sex, p in v, overstimulation, breeding kink, forced impregnation

A/N : This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I've been going back and forth, tweaking the story to add a darker twist. I've always felt like there's more beneath the surface of Captain America's heroic façade, he did good and sacrificed everything for the world. What if he's not as perfect as he seemed? And you had to be the one who found out about his true side, his dark side. That's the premise of this one shot, enjoy~

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+.  I don't condone any of this kind of thinking in real life, this is purely fan fiction. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. Please don't read if this content is not your cup of tea, you've been warned.

My masterlist

The sound of a car door slamming shut is the last thing you remember before everything went black. A dull ache in your head is what you first felt when you woke up.

When you open your eyes, you find that your hands and legs are bounded by rope and tape, the coldness of the floor and walls send shivers down your spine. It takes a few seconds for you to process the situation you were in. The first thing that came into mind was where you were, who did this and why? Your memories were all a blur, you can't remember how you got into this predicament.

You hear a door open from somewhere, it echoes in the empty space, making the hairs on your arm stand up. You start to feel anxious and scared as your heart beats loudly. "Hello?" You say and the voice bounces off the walls, not knowing who was behind this.

"Good, you're awake now." A familiar voice speaks out, walking into the room. Your eyes widen in shock, mouth agape.

"S-Steve? W-What's going on? Why am I here?" You ask him, fear evident in your voice. Steve doesn't answer and stares at you blankly. He's standing right in front of you. "Answer me!" You demand but he remains silent, only looking at you.

"You don't have the right to tell me what to do." He said with a dark expression. 

"What the fuck, Steve!" you said as you were tied to a chair. The ropes were tight enough to not get out of but loose enough so it doesn't hurt. "Let me go, Steve, you bastard!"

He was standing in front of you with his arms crossed and a stoic expression. His jaw was clenched tight and he looked like he was going to kill someone.

"Why should I? So, you can escape and go tell on me? Tell everyone what a bad man I am? Huh?" Steve said as he walked up to you and grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. "You know I can't let you do that."

He kept you in a small bedroom. The wallpaper was torn, revealing the rotten wood behind it. A single bed and a rickety drawer stood as the only furnishings. The window had its shutters closed, allowed no glimpse of the outside world and there was only a single light bulb illuminating the room. It gave a very eerie feeling.

"Steve, let me go." You said in a low voice.

"I can't do that." He said, running his fingers through his hair. "If I do, they will find me and put me in jail."

"Steve, they will not find you. I swear I won't tell anyone." You said as you tried to get up. But Steve came up and pushed you back to the chair.

"Stop. Fucking. Moving." He said in a menacing tone. "You're not the boss here. I am." He said.

"Do you think you can just imprison me like this?" you shouted, your voice cracking with frustration. "What you're doing is cruel and inhumane!"

A chilling smile crept across Steve's lips as he retorted, "Oh, I can, and I will. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. I have my reasons, and I won't let you ruin everything I've worked for."

Your voice trembled with shock and disbelief, "What do you mean I'm not the first? There were others before me? What happened to them? Who are you?!"

"I've always been Steve Rogers, the same person you met and fell for. As for the others, they were my mistakes, and I fixed them." Steve replied in a casual tone as if talking about the weather. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you won't have to worry about that. I won't make the same mistakes twice."

"What happened to them?" you asked, feeling the blood drain from your face.

"That's none of your concern, sweetheart. You don't need to worry about them. All you need to worry about is obeying me."

You couldn't believe that the man in front of you was the same person you'd known. "I will not obey you, Steve."

He laughed as he sat on the bed, "You’re not the Steve I know. You're fucking insane! You're no hero!" You screamed at him, "I saw you kill that man, Steve. You took his life without a shred of remorse."

He shook his head. "Y/N it was necessary. He was a criminal, and it was self-defense."

"No it wasn’t!" you raised your voice. “You had other options, you could have spared his life, but you didn't. You killed him because you're a psychopath!"

He ignored your statement and said, "I told you, you should have never followed me. You've made this very hard for yourself." He crossed his arm, "I warned you, I tried so fucking hard so you wouldn't see any of this, but you just had to follow me."

He was right, if you listened to him and didn’t follow him, you wouldn’t end up like this. You didn't know how to respond.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me next?"

"Oh, please, if I was going to kill you, I would have done it the minute I brought you here." He said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, why would I kill you when you could be so much more useful to me alive."

"Useful?"

"Yeah. I could use some help." He said as he walked closer to you.

"What kind of help?" you asked.

He smirked and licked his lips. "The fun kind."

"Steve, what are you talking about?" you asked, fearing the answer.

He leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I'm sure you'll be a good girl and obey."

You didn't like where this was going. "Steve, please let me go." you whispered, trying not to cry. You were scared, you were tied to a chair and no one knew where you were. You were scared of what Steve was going to do to you.

"You're begging already?" He laughed dryly. "It hasn't even been 20 minutes."

"Please." You sighed and tried to break free from the ropes. "You can't keep me here, Steve. Please"

"I can do anything I want." he whispered, his face getting closer to yours. You tried to lean back, but there was no room. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You shut your eyes.

"You don't want to do this, Steve." You said.

"Don't I?" he asked, tilting his head. "Because it seems like I do."

"Please..." You opened your eyes, you had tears forming in them. You were scared, he could do anything he wanted to you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"You look so pretty when you beg, you know that?" he said, his face inches from yours.

"Steve, don't do this. Please" You begged.

He ran his fingers over your cheek and wiped away the tear that was threatening to fall. "Shame that it had to be like this."

"Steve... I-I promise I won't tell anyone." you whimpered, flinching at his touch. You didn't want him to touch you.

He shook his head. "You've seen what I did."

"It was an accident. We can get out of this," you pleaded, your voice laden with desperation, seeking any flicker of empathy in his eyes.

"No. We can't. This was inevitable. Don't worry, sweetheart. You're going to love it here," Steve declared with an unsettling certainty, his tone almost comforting, as if he genuinely believed the twisted reality he was creating.

"Steve, please. You can't keep me here. If not for you, at least do it for our friendship. Please, let me go"

"This will be the last time you beg, Y/N. I will not repeat myself. You're not going anywhere. This will be your new home"

"It won't be," you insisted, defiance laced with fear.

"You'll see, in time, you'll change your mind." Steve's response echoed through the room, the unsettling assurance leaving you with a sinking feeling of dread as the realization set in that escape seemed increasingly improbable.

The room seemed to close in, the peeling wallpaper and the flickering light bulb casting eerie shadows that danced around the space, creating an atmosphere of both captivity and impending menace.

Your hand struggled against the rope as you watched him. Your eyes wide and frightened. "You see, my sweet Y/N. I've got my eye on you for quite a while. Maybe after I've had my fun with you, I'll consider letting you go. Who knows" he smiled at you, his hand caressing your lips. You felt sick.

"Don't you dare touch me" you hissed, jerking your face away from him. His eyes flashed with anger for a second before it was gone. 

"You don't have a choice" he chuckled. He took hold of your jaw and brought his face closer to yours, his lips a breath away. "I will enjoy making you scream and beg for mercy."

You felt his hands trail down your neck and down to the top of your shirt. He looked up at you before ripping your shirt open, making the buttons fly across the room. You gasped as you felt the cool air hit your skin. You were left in your bra, the thin lace fabric the only thing protecting you.

"Don't" 

"Don't what?" He grinned and pulled your bra straps down, exposing your breasts. You tried to cover yourself but you couldn't. You were still tied to the chair, and he was stronger than you.

"Please. Just stop" You felt tears roll down your cheeks.

"Oh, honey. This is just the beginning" He took one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it, making you gasp in pain. He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. You squirmed under his touch, trying to push him away, but he held onto your wrists and kept you in place.

"Stop! Please, Steve. I'm sorry!"

"No. I don't think you're sorry" he growled as he moved to your neck and bit down. He sucked on the sensitive skin, making sure he left a mark.

"Stop!" you exclaimed, trying to push him off you. He chuckled at your efforts, then next he was moving his hands down your waist and stopping at the top of your jeans.

"Now, be a good girl and stay still. Wouldn't want to ruin such pretty underwear, now would we?" he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your breathing sped up and you started to squirm.

"Steve, stop, please, I'm sorry, just let me go, please" you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn't believe that he was doing this.

"Stop with the dramatics, princess. It won't change a thing. Just sit back and enjoy, it'll feel better if you relax" he cooed, pulling your jeans down to your ankles. You felt a sob escape your throat as he looked down at you, his eyes looking hungry and lustful.

"Please, don't do this, Steve, please"

"Shh, princess, I'm going to make you feel good, okay? But, first, I gotta take these off" he murmured, reaching for your panties. Your breathing stopped, and you felt yourself shake.

"Steve" you whimpered, shaking your head. Tears were falling down your face, and Steve was wiping them away. 

"Such a pretty sight. You're gonna look so pretty covered in my marks" he whispered as he leaned down and started to suck on your neck. You let out a strangled moan as you tried to move your head away from him.

"Get off, you creep" you groaned, trying to kick him away. He didn't seem fazed and just held your hips down. He was much stronger than you, and the more you struggled, the harder his grip became.

"That's it, baby. Squirming like a little slut" he murmured, moving his hand down and under your panties. You shook your head frantically, trying to kick him away again.

"Don't touch me, please" you begged, closing your legs tightly. He looked up at you, his blue eyes darkening with lust. "Steve, get off me!"

"You know, I've seen the way you've looked at me. Like a piece of meat" He was right, you couldn’t lie, you were attracted to him ever since you first saw him. Who wasn’t attracted to him? He was kind and gentle. Even right now after you found out who he really was, you still feel attracted to him. You knew you shouldn’t be. 

“You’re disgusting!” You spat in defiance, you were in denial. 

"You say that now, but I'll have you screaming my name"

"I'll never scream your name, you pervert."

"We’ll see about that, princess.” he murmured, kissing down your stomach. You shivered as you felt his warm breath fanning over your stomach. You didn't want him this close. 

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but why are you already wet huh?” You were shaking your head, trying to get him to stop. But it felt so good. 

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but you sure are wet, darling. So, what is it, hm? Tell me, are you wet because you want me or is it something else?” He pushed a finger inside of you, making you gasp. He began pumping his finger in and out, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Fuck. I've always wondered what you would feel like. So tight and warm." He continued pumping his finger in and out of you, and you tried to hold back a moan. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasuring you.

"Scream my name, princess."

"Never." You said through clenched teeth. 

"That's fine, sweetheart, I can do this all day." He smirked.

You could feel his finger moving inside of you, hitting the spot that made your legs tremble. You tried to hold back a moan, but he knew what he was doing.

"Oh fuckkk," you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"That's right, princess, be a good girl for me" he groaned, moving his fingers inside you. You moaned, feeling him thrust his fingers in and out. He moved his lips back to your neck, biting and sucking. He added another finger and curled his fingers inside of you.

You let out a small moan, and he smirked. "Come on, princess, you can do better than that."

He added a third finger and thrust them faster, making your hips buck. He was moving his fingers faster and faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer.

You couldn't stop the moans from escaping. Your body betrayed you.

He continued curling his fingers inside of you, and you felt a pressure building up.

"P-please, st-stop, I don't- I don't w-want" you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"What, princess, don't wanna have some fun?"

"No, I-I don't want th-this"

"Stop lying to yourself, princess.” He said as he kissed your cheeks. “You're so pretty like this, Y/N. All vulnerable and defenseless"

"I'm not-"

"Oh, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll make you feel so good."

"Fuck, Steve"

"That's right, baby, moan my name. You sound so beautiful." He laughed and continued thrusting his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers went deeper, hitting your g-spot.

"Beg me, princess. Beg me to make you come.” he said, moving his fingers faster. Your breathing sped up as he added a third finger, stretching your hole. 

"Screw you!" You refused to beg him, not giving him the satisfaction.

"You will. You'll beg me to make you come, and then you'll beg me to fuck you. You'll beg me to use your body until I've had my fill."

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. He began rubbing your clit again, causing your legs to shake. You could feel your climax approaching, and you didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. "I can feel how close you are. Say it, princess. Beg me."

Then when you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. You wanted to cry. "No!" You panted, trying to catch your breath.

"Not yet, princess. You know what I want, princess. Tell me." He purred, licking his fingers clean. You knew what he wanted, you still refused.

He laughed. "You're really gonna make me do this, aren't you?"

You were so confused. You didn't know what he meant. "You're gonna make me show you just how bad you need this."

He got up from the bed and walked over to the closet. He opened the doors and reached inside, pulling out a bag.

"What is that?" you asked, nervously.

He turned and looked at you. He opened the bag and pulled out a long, thin, pink vibrator. Your eyes went wide, you began to tremble. You were terrified. He was going to use that on you.

He held the vibrator up to your face and pressed a button, making it hum. You shook your head at him, "Steve No!"

He walked back over to you and crouched down in front of you. He ran his hand down your thigh, before spreading your legs, "Such a pretty pussy, princess." he murmured, tracing a finger along your folds.

He put the vibrator between your legs, pressing it against your clit.

"Fuck! Don't!" you moaned, trying to get away. He grabbed your hair and pulled you closer to him. "Oh, princess, you're gonna cum on this. Then, you're gonna cum on my cock. And, after that, you're gonna beg me for more."

You let out a sob as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel yourself getting close again. "Please, Steve."

He pressed the vibrator against your clit harder, making you moan. You didn't want him touching you there, but you couldn't stop the pleasure. "Tell me what you want, Y/N"

"Steve, I can't. I don't want it, I can't, please"

"But, you do, princess. You're already wet for me. You want this."

You shook your head, trying to get away from the vibrator. He held onto your hips, keeping you still. He leaned forward and licked your nipple. He sucked your nipple, making you arch your back.

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator, causing your hips to buck. He let go of your nipple and moved the vibrator lower, rubbing it against your entrance.

"Fuck! Stop, Steve. I-I can't. It's too much!"

"Oh, baby, this is nothing. Just wait until I start fucking you."

You were getting closer, the pleasure almost unbearable. "Steve, please. Stop. Please. I can't. I'm gonna-"

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator. "Say it. Or I'll make this last even longer. I'll keep you here all night, and the whole time, I'll be inside you."

You moaned and closed your eyes. "Please… Steve…”

He chuckled. "I like hearing you beg, princess." He turned the vibrator off and moved it back up to your clit. He slowly pushed it into your tight cunt.

"I can't…."

He smirked, "Oh, baby, we've just gotten started."

He turned the vibrator on and fucked you with it. You arched your back and moaned. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up. You let out a whimper as he kissed you, hard. He pulled away and licked your neck. "You're such a slut for me, princess. You will love it when I fuck you."

You shook your head, trying to get him to stop. "Please, Steve. Stop."

He ignored you, thrusting the vibrator deeper inside you.

You were about to cum when he suddenly pulled the vibrator out. "Steve, please, I need-"

Everytime you were close to cum, he would turn the vibrator off,  making you frustrated and horny. "I can do this all day, princess."

You couldn't take it anymore, "Please Steve! Please let me cum, I can't take it anymore, please" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks. You really needed to cum so bad, he was edging you so hard.

You hated yourself for begging him. He kept the vibrator pressed against your clit, and with his other hand, he began fucking you with his fingers again.

He grinned, "What's the magic word?"

"Please…."

"Wrong answer, princess." He chuckled and stood up. He turned the vibrator on and started walking towards you. He held the vibrator against your clit and rubbed it in slow circles. "Now, be a good girl and spread your legs."

You took a deep breath and slowly spread your legs, revealing your dripping cunt. “Good girl.” 

"Yes, oh god, Steve, please." You were moaning and panting, trying to hold off your orgasm, but he was making it impossible. "I can't hold back much longer, Steve, I'm so close. Please don’t stop." You were moaning, you didn’t care for anything, you needed to cum. 

But the moment you were about to cum, Steve stopped again, and removed the vibrator.

"Steve! No! Fuck!" You screamed, tears pricking your eyes. "What the fuck! Let me cum!"

He laughed, "So desperate. How long has it been since someone touched you like this? I can tell by your reactions that it's been a while." He turned on the vibrator again, “You will cum on my cock, now beg me to fuck you."

You were shaking, crying, "Fuck you, Steve. I'm not doing that."

He laughed, "Oh, I think you will. You're so desperate, Y/N, so close to the edge. You'll do anything to cum." He slowly undid his pants and stroking his cock in front of you. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at his length, you didn't think it was possible for a man to have such a huge cock. But, the sight of him stroking his cock was making you even wetter, and you couldn't help but want him to fuck you.

"Tell me you want me, tell me how much you want my cock."

"Steve, no. Please." You tried to close your legs, but he put the vibrator between them, spreading your lips and pushing the vibrator inside.

"If you don't, I'll just leave you here. Alone. Unsatisfied."

You were quiet, you shouldn’t want him, you should hold a little longer but he was being so good to you. It had been long since a guy made you felt like this. 

"Come on, princess. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me how much you want me inside you. Tell me how bad you want my cock." He grinned as he kissed your clit, “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you want. I’ll fuck you better than any guy you know. I’ll make sure you will never be more satisfied than being with me again."

His words sent it toward your clit, you clenched your pussy hearing him said that. You were frustrated, sobbing, you needed release, and you didn't care about anything. You were going to beg.

 You caved in, "Fine! Fuck me, Steve. Please fuck me. I need your cock, please!"

He leaned forward and kissed you. He bit down on your bottom lip, and you gasped. He chuckled, "I bet you'd let me do anything right now, wouldn't you, princess?"

He turned the vibrator back on and started fucking you with it. You were crying and moaning, begging him to let you cum. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "Fuck, please, Steve, fuck. I'm so close, I'm gonna cum. Fuck."

"Cum for me, princess.” 

You came screaming, your whole body convulsing. You were shaking and sweating, your body aching from the pleasure.

He turned off the vibrator and pulled it out of you. He kissed your cheek, "Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you, princess."

You were panting, trying to catch your breath. "I hate you."

"You don't mean that, baby. You're just a little overwhelmed. It's okay."

You looked at him, his eyes were soft and gentle, but you knew he was crazy. You were still tied up, helpless, and completely at his mercy. He was going to use his large cock to fuck you, and you couldn't do anything to stop him.

"Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of you. I promise."

He started to untie you and you were confused. Was he letting you go? You tried to scramble to ran away from him but you didn’t get far, he wrapped his arms on your waist lifting you. “Steve! Put me down now!”

He ignored you and brought you back to the bed. He put you down and pinned you, using his body weight to keep you still. "Don't think this changes anything."

He kissed you, hard and hungry. You tried to push him away but it was useless, he was too strong. "Fuck, baby, you taste so good." He kissed down your neck, biting and sucking as he went. He stopped at your breast, taking one nipple in his mouth and the other in his hand.

"Steve, please..."

"You want me to stop, Y/N?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's too bad. Because I'm not stopping until I'm finished with you. And you're gonna love every minute of it. You're my girl, Y/N. I'm never letting you go.” 

"No, please...don't...stop...don't hurt me, Steve."

He smirked, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."

He let go of your wrists and reached down between your legs. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. "God, you're so wet. So wet and ready for me."

"Stop..."

"No. I'm not stopping, princess. You're going to come for me, just like you did with the vibrator. And then, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you all night long."

You tried to wiggle away from him, but it was no use. He was too strong. You tried to kick him, “Princess.” He warned, you stopped your movement, his tone made you scared. 

He then smiled, “Good girl.” 

You were trapped, at his mercy. He was going to hurt you, he was going to fuck you, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were his.

He slipped a finger inside of you, moving it in and out slowly. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're gonna feel so good on my cock."

He added a second finger, stretching you even more. He kept pumping them in and out of you, making sure to hit your g-spot every time. You could feel another orgasm building.

"Oh God...oh fuck, Steve...please..."

"Please what, baby? Do you want me to stop?"

"No...don't stop...fuck, Steve..."

"Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want."

"I want...I want you to fuck me."

"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. You're gonna come for me, aren't you?"

"Yes...oh God, Steve...yes...I'm gonna cum." He fucked you faster, harder, his fingers pounding into you. You couldn't hold back anymore, you threw your head back and screamed his name as you came, your whole body shaking with pleasure.

"Fuck, that's it, baby. You’re so beautiful, princess.” He didn't stop, he kept fucking you, his fingers buried deep inside you. You couldn't believe how good it felt, you had never been fucked like this before.

He kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your orgasm. You were panting and moaning, trying to catch your breath. "That's it, princess. That's it. Just like that."

He moved down and spread your legs wide open. "Fuck, baby. You're so fucking wet."

He licked your slit, tasting your juices. You moaned as he lapped at your folds, sucking and licking like his life depended on it.

He pulled back and looked up at you, "You taste so fucking good, baby. I could eat you all day long."

"Oh, god...please, Steve..."

"Please, what, princess? You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes..."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please, fuck me, Steve."

"Fuck, I love when you beg, princess."

His cock was rock hard, the tip leaking precum. He grabbed the base and stroked it a few times before positioning himself between your legs. He lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the tip through your folds, coating it in your wetness. "Fuck... Steve… It's not going to fit."

"It'll fit, princess. I promise." He slowly pushing inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. It hurt, but the feeling of him stretching you was incredible. He was so big and you felt so full. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. So wet. Do you like my cock, baby? Do you like the way it feels?"

"Oh god, Steve. So full." You moaned.

He started moving, thrusting into you. The pace was slow and steady, letting you get used to his size. "God, you feel so fucking good, princess. So fucking good."

It hurt at first, but the pain soon turned to pleasure. You were moaning, begging him for more. "Steve...faster..."

He grinned, "You want it faster, baby? You want me to fuck you faster?"

"Yes...please...faster..."

He quickened his pace, pounding into you. He grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

"Fuck, yes, Steve!"

"That's it, baby. Scream my name. Scream my name as I fuck you."

"Oh, god...yes...please, Steve... harder!"

He groaned and started slamming into you, fucking you hard and fast. "Fuck, baby. You're such a slut, begging me to fuck you harder."

You were lost in pleasure, moaning and screaming his name. "That's it, baby. Tell me how good it feels, princess. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

"So good, Steve...it feels so good...I love you fucking me, Steve."

"Yeah, you do, don't you? You love being fucked by me huh?" He growled and pounded into you, harder and faster.

"I love it...please, Steve, more..." He felt so good inside you, you should've hating him, but all you wanted was more. You shouldn’t want him but fuck no one ever fucked you this good. "Yes, Steve, oh god, yes. Please fuck me."

"Yeah, baby, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you hard. I'll fuck you until you can't walk." He began thrusting his hips, fucking you hard and fast. He sped up his thrusts, slamming into you harder and deeper. You were lost in the pleasure, not caring about anything else. All that mattered was him and how good he made you feel.

You were so close, you could feel your orgasm building. "Steve...I'm gonna come."

"Yeah? You gonna come, baby? You gonna come on my cock?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, you are. You're gonna come all over my cock. You're gonna come for me, baby. Come on, princess. Come for me." He then went to sucked your neck and then bit it, hard. "Rub your clit, baby. Make yourself come. Rub that fucking clit while I fuck you."

You obeyed, reaching down and rubbing your clit. It only took a few seconds before you were coming, screaming his name and digging your nails into his back.

"Fuck, yes, princess. That's it. Come for me."

You were coming down from your high and he was still pounding into you

You moaned and came, your body shaking with pleasure.

He didn't stop, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it. You were so oversensitive and it was almost too much, but you didn't want him to stop.

He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up. "Oh, God, yes, Steve!" He slammed back into you, his pace relentless. "You like that, princess? You like me fucking you?"

"Yes! Oh, God, yes! Don't stop!"

He reached around and rubbed your clit, making you moan even louder. "Come for me, princess. Come for me again. I want to hear you scream."

You were close, you could feel your orgasm building again. He pinched your clit and that was it. You came, screaming his name. He continued to fuck you, not slowing down at all.

"God, I love it when you scream, princess. Keep screaming for me."

You were barely coming down from your orgasm and he was already pushing you towards another one. You couldn't take it, it was too much. You were oversensitive and it was almost too much. He leaned forward and kissed your neck, whispering in your ear, "That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all."

"Steve, please...it's too much...it's too much..."

"Shh, princess. I know. I know. But you can take it. You can take it, can't you, baby?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, I know. I know you can. You're my good girl, aren't you?" He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. "Now, say it. Say you're my good girl."

"I'm your good girl." 

"Fucking right you are." He said and went to fondled your breast while he pounded into you, his pace unforgiving. His trusts became erratic, you knew he was close.

Then you remember, he didn't wear a condom and you weren’t on birth control.  "Please pull out! Don't come inside of me, please! I’m not on birth control!”

He stopped, but didn't pull out. "You're kidding, right? What's the point in fucking you if I don't come inside of that tight pussy of yours? I'm gonna fill you up, make you mine."

You started to panic. "Please, you'll get me pregnant. Please don't come inside of me."

"No, you're mine now. And I'm gonna breed you, just like you deserve. You're going to give me what I want and you're going to take it."

"Please, don't come inside of me." Your breath came in gasps, you couldn't hold back your moans anymore, even though you were crying. You tried to push him off, but he didn't let you, didn't stop fucking you.

"Please, please don't. I'll do anything you want. Please just pull out, I'll let you fuck me every morning. I'll be your good girl, please just not inside." You were sobbing now, but your cunt was dripping.

“Your body says otherwise, princess.” He picked up his pace again. Fuck, you like this, don't you? You're so wet. You want to have my babies, don't you? Fuck, yeah, you're a good girl, begging for my cum."

He felt you trying to pull away and he slapped your ass, hard. "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're going to stay here and take my cock. I’m gonna fuck a baby into you." He moaned, his thrusts were becoming more desperate, his hand left your waist and moved to your clit, rubbing hard.

You whimpered and he slapped your ass again. "Don't fight me, princess. Just let go and enjoy it. You're already mine, and now you're going to have my baby. We're going to have a family, Y/N. You're not leaving me."

You gave up, your body submitting to him. He was in complete control and there was nothing you could do. He kept fucking you, going even faster and harder. "There you go, baby. That's it. Let me take care of you."

Your pussy started to contract and you screamed, a wave of pleasure rolling through you. "Yeah, fuck. I knew you'd like this. Fuck, you're squeezing me, that's it. Take it, take it all, be a good girl and take it."

He moaned and pumped into you harder, until his hips stuttered and his cock pulsed.

"Ahhhh!" You cried as he spilled his seed inside of you, filling your insides. He groaned at the feeling of you, warm and wet, squeezing around him. He let go of your wrists and wrapped both his arms around your waist. 

When he was finished, he stayed inside of you, breathing heavily. "Fuck, that was great. Best sex I ever had."

 When he pulled out, you felt his come dripping down your leg. "We can't waste this, can we?" He thrusted his finger into you, gathering his come. You were still shaking, not able to comprehend what just happened.

He shoved his finger into your mouth. "You'll be a good girl, won't you? Now clean my fingers.”

He shoved his fingers into your mouth, you were too exhausted to do anything, just opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers down your throat.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you and the baby." He whispered. "You'll be the perfect mom."

"Oh, no. We're not done yet." He grabbed your face with his clean hand, and pulled you into a kiss. He pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, tasting his cum. "You're such a good girl. Now, I'll give you a reward."

He got down on his knees and pushed your legs apart, then leaned forward, licking your clit. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive skin, but quickly bit your lip, trying to keep quiet.

He looked up at you. "Don't worry, honey. I love the sounds you make. So sweet. Keep making those noises for me." He moved his tongue over your clit, slowly, teasing.

He licked and sucked at your clit, while you moaned, the sensation almost too much. "I know you're sore, honey. But I wanna hear you come on my tongue. Be a good girl and come for me, can you do that?"

"Yes."

He continued sucking your clit, and moved his hand down to your pussy, pushing his fingers inside. He moved his fingers in and out of your pussy, slowly, but it was still too much.

"Please, Steve, make me come."

"That's my good girl." He moved his fingers faster, sucking harder, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your moans were louder, your whole body felt hot.

"Steve, oh god, oh god, I'm coming."

You felt him smile against your clit, his tongue moving faster, sucking and licking. Your moans became screams, your legs were shaking, you felt the pressure building in your belly, your whole body shaking. You came hard, squirting on his face.

"You taste so sweet." He got up from his knees, his cock hard again, and pressed it against your pussy.

"Please, not again. It's too much. I-I'm too tired. I can't...I don't have any more energy." 

"I can give you energy, princess" He pushed into you, and you screamed, the feeling too intense. He pulled out and then slammed back into you, setting a brutal pace. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and moved his hips in a circular motion, the pressure in your belly building again.

You sighed, you didn't have any energy left. Steve had been non-stop ever since the day he took you, he didn't give you a single moment to rest. You were always filled with his cum. "You'll enjoy it, princess. You always do."

He started to thrust up into you, and you felt your orgasm building. "Oh, God, Steve!"

"That's it, baby, scream my name."

"Steve! Oh, God, Steve!"

You came, clenching around his cock. He groaned, and you felt him spill inside you, his hot cum filling you up. "Fuck, baby, you're so good."

He kissed you, and you could feel him getting hard inside of you again. "No, Steve, please. I can't..."

"Yes, you can, princess. I know you can."

He started to move again, and you knew you were in for a long night.

You couldn't help but moan, you could feel his thick length filling you up. His cum was still inside of you and it was a warm feeling. You were so tired and he could tell, "One more time, princess, and I'll let you sleep."

He was so big, and he hit all the right spots. You couldn't help but moan, it felt so good.

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his cum, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You moaned as he thrust deeper into you. He was so big and it felt so good. You were lost in the pleasure, forgetting about everything else. All that mattered was him and the way he made you feel.

"Say you want me to come inside of you."

"I want you to come inside of me, Steve."

“Beg me.”

“Please, Steve. I want your cum. Please fill me up.”

"Good girl." He kept his rhythm, the feeling of his cock inside of you was too much, but it was so good.

"Come for me, be a good girl and come for me."

Your body was shaking, you felt his cock throb and fill you up again, and then you were coming, your legs trembling, your moans loud.

"Fuck, yeah. You're such a good girl, so sweet, coming for me. So tight, fuck. Such a good girl."

His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you. He held himself above you, watching your face, while he fucked you. His cock was still inside of you, twitching, the feeling so intense.

"And don't you forget it. You're mine, and no one else is gonna fuck you. Cause you're mine, and I'm gonna keep you pregnant, giving me all the babies I want."

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his mark and seed, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You didn't have a choice, he wouldn't let you go. He'd fuck you every day, until he had knocked you up. You didn't even want a baby, and he didn't care. He'd do whatever he wanted. You had no choice but to obey him. But he made you feel so good and gentle with you, you couldn't help but enjoy it.

You had given up, the police weren't going to find you. No one was. You were his prisoner, his plaything. And he was going to keep you forever.

But, in a twisted way, you didn't mind. Because he was always there for you, taking care of you, fucking you, loving you. You had never felt this way about anyone before. And deep down, you knew you were falling in love with him.

"I love you, Y/N. And I'm gonna take care of you, and our baby. Forever."

"I love you, too, Steve."

FIN

A/N : So what do you guys think? Let me know in the comments, I want to know about your thoughts! 

[spideyhexx]

what do we think about a situation with Snowjanus x Reader where maybe there are rumours about how Reader is involved with both of them and Festus or Felix or someone tries to make advances towards Reader and when she declines they get somewhat salty and tell her that if she's enough of a slut to jump back and forth betweem Sejanus and Coryo then she should be thankful that someone else still wanted them as well. maybe Sejanus and/or Coryo overhear? whatever happens then is up to you, but I'd love it if it ends with the three having sex or similar again where they praise her for being only theirs💗💗💗

omg okay

mdni

The night after you and Sej officially ask Coryo to be a part of the relationship, the question about public perception would come up of course. But at this point, people had already begun to suspect something was happening. Why would Coriolanus always sit next to you and Sejanus? Why was Coriolanus always going home with either you or Sej? Why was Sej's girlfriend getting all cute and cuddly next to Coryo in the library?

I think Sej becomes the clear voice for you three, saying something about focusing on one another and not letting any possible comments get to you.

Festus teasing or even asking to "join," would be enough to piss off you or either of the boys, but it would also be expected, especially from him. The moment is worse if you aren't around either of your boyfriends, just you and Festus, talking until he teases you about being with both of the men. At first, it feels playful, like he's just gonna make a small jab and then move on, but then he moves in close, "you got room for a fourth? I wouldn't mind sharing you," he whispers with a disgusting smirk as his eyes rake over your body.

You deny him, hoping to just walk away from the conversation once you get your words out, but he mutters, "I know you'd actually want it," and it's got you turning back on your heel to face him, asking what he means.

Festus' smirk would only grow wider, "You're fucking the Plinth and Snow boy. Sounds like something a whore would do. You're lucky I'm even interested in someone like you." And you can never really tell if Festus is being genuine or if he's just trying to hurt you, but it wouldn't really matter. You'd want to go off of on him, but you're still at the Academy and you don't want to cause any sort of scene so you just end up rolling your eyes and leaving.

Sej would notice first that something is wrong, but you brush it off. He'd share a look with Coryo and soon Sej's hand is holding yours as Coryo's eyes pierce into yours. You wouldn't tell them what happened until you're in the safety of your bedroom, tears threatening to prick. You'd find it in yourself to joke a little though, saying, "I think I win in the end. Even if I do get called a slut or whore or whatever name they can come up with cause I have two very caring boyfriends," and you let out a breathy chuckle as they both give you small smiles. "I'll just tell them I'm a slut too," Sej would chime in, making you giggle for the first time this night and it would bring a blush to his cheeks.

"And you're our girlfriend. Ours. No one else's, especially not Festus'," Coryo says, tugging you into his side as Sej rubs his hand on your other thigh.

The progression of the night feels too obvious, but you end up being surprised when both Sej and Coryo deny you getting on your knees for them, instead opting to please you and you only. They'd take turns between your legs, while the other is letting their tongue soak in your juices, the other is at your chest, neck, or ear with his mouth.

"our girl, you're so pretty," Coryo would mumble against you, kissing your shoulder while Sej's head is buried against your cunt. "make us feel so lucky, did you know that?"

Sej's words are a little sweeter given the fact you've been in a relationship with him longer. Coryo doesn't seem to mind at the moment as he brings you closer to another orgasm. "I love you, baby. You're so good for us, Coryo's gonna fall in love with you, I know it." And it makes all three of you smile when that's what sends you over the edge.

let's chat about sej, coryo, or both, here :)

[yanderes-galore]

I can't wait to write more of him... along with the Noir prompts at some point. Hope you enjoy and I hope I got him in character! NOT PROOFREAD.

Yandere! Homelander Concept

Prompts Here

Yandere! Homelander Prompts 4, 22, 26

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

“I don’t scare you, do I…?”

“I always get what I want.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Forced affection (Kissing, Touching), Slightly violent behavior, Homelander is lucid for just a moment, Forced "relationship".

Homelander always gets stressed when dealing with Vought. He used to be unable to find a proper outlet to vent his frustrations. But then he found you.

Homelander loves you... someone who appealed to his child-like side. He felt comfort in your presence. While he tried to ignore such an obsession for a long while for the sake of appearances... he caved eventually.

Homelander is a man who always gets what he wants. He originally just took you away to have some sort of comfort to return to. He originally didn't care what you thought.

Over time... he began to form a twisted love for you... his captive.

You are Homelander's special little secret. A guilty pleasure if you well. You are kept away from Vought... the public... everyone but him.

After all... Homelander hates to share.

Now, as often as he can, Homelander returns to the remote location he keeps you in. You have no way to leave... he'll find you quickly. Vought never bothers asking questions... as long as Homelander is compliant with them they could care less.

No one will ever know about you... which leaves Homelander able to indulge in peace.

"I'm home!" The Supe calls into the home he provided for you. It's quiet but he knows exactly where you are. His powers make him quite perceptive.

Homelander takes long strides to the bedroom. He opens the door without really knocking to see you sitting on the bed. You look to have been expecting him... it's good that you've learned.

The Supe flashes his signature smile towards you, circling the bed before leaning in front of you. He feels giddy when your eyes meet his. He can see you're scared... but compliant.

He places a red gloved hand on your cheek before leaning in. As if expecting his advances you prepare yourself and kiss back. It's best not to go against what John wants, after all.

His kiss is passionate and intense, pushing himself against you as you kiss him back. By the time he pulls away he's panting, gaze never leaving yours. He grins... but you try not to focus on him.

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Homelander whispers, nuzzling his nose into your neck. It's as though his stresses and worries melt away when with you. Even if he causes stress on you.

Homelander pauses when he hears your heart beat increase. He pulls back to look you in the eyes. They're wide... scared....

“I don’t scare you, do I…?” Homelander asks... his tone a bit... soft. He may not understand the concept of love well but he doesn't seem to want to scare you. However... your fear wasn't really going to stop him anyways.

Homelander notices you not answer him, his grip on you moving to your waist before tightening. His eyes scan you over... he wants an answer. You bite your lip before shaking your head.

"No...." You answer softly. Homelander accepts your answer, leaning in again to kiss your neck softly before sitting on the bed and laying down on your lap. He basks in your comfort with a smile.

As though you're trained... your stroke his hair. He sighs softly before turning his gaze to you. You can see he's infatuated.

"I love you..." Homelander coos, holding your face as he cuddles into your lap. You push a smile onto your face hesitantly.

"I love you, John...." You answer back, pleasing the Supe.

"Good..." Homelander praises, a vaguely threatening smile on his face. “I always get what I want, don't I?”

"Yes, John." You answer back. The Supe then leans up to kiss you again softly. As expected, you reciprocate, making Homelander's heart accelerate.

"You're mine, aren't you?" The Supe asks again. "Only mine?"

There's an evident pain in your gaze for a moment, but you hide it by kissing the Supe's forehead.

"Yes, John...."

[neathyingenue]

What’s been going on with Silvia?

An update ft. sticky note doodles

After hearing that her dear friend the Six-Finger’d Scrimshander was living somewhere that wasn’t a house, Silvia has installed it in the guest room of her Side-Streets flat, where they’ve been getting along swimmingly.

Her professional life is going great! Ever since she and Lord Oswald J. Emerson struck a bargain—he writes silly plays, Silvia writes silly reviews, they create public beef that sells tickets and papers—the Prodigal Plebian has practically been printing itself.

Silvia’s also made a new friend, one Youthful Naturalist! She’s been lending him a hand where she can—trying to convince him to move out of his rookery, and keeping her kitchen stocked with jellied eels should he come over, and taking him wherever he wants to go in her zee-clipper.

In the meantime, she’s been growing frustrated with her lack of progress regarding her research on the Third City. If you’ve been with Silvia for a while, you’ll recall that she has been learning Yucatec Maya and chasing leads to discover if there are any pockets of Third City inhabitants untouched by colonialism where she could convince her remaining dad to move with her. (Hm? Inherently contradictory logic? What inherently contradictory logic?)

Enter the Sixth Coil and the freed captives. Several of them are from the original Third City. Silvia follows them to Venderbight, uses her broken Yucatec Maya to explain what she’s after—

They tell her: There’s no such place as you’re describing. We hang around in Venderbight, but even now, there’s nowhere untouched by the Masters, by London.

Silvia presses them—No, there has to be, maybe you just don’t want me there? Why not? Why won’t you let me in?? I promise I’m trustworthy, I won’t tell—

And she finally realizes that she sounds like a fucking conquistador.

Welp! No better cure for a crumbling belief system and self-perception than to zail as far away from your problems as possible! She and the Youthful Naturalist fuck off for a while and that’s when the Delight gets wind of them.

Speaking of wind. The Wax-Wind catches up with Silvia’s ship. Silvia gets a bad burn across the right side of her neck and shoulders.

Not to just rehash everything that happens ever in Evolution, but, uh, shit hits the fan, Silvia gets pretty traumatized. But secretly she’d glad that she’s helping the Youthful Naturalist, proud of both of them. Her search for precolonial Atlantis failed. But here’s another basket to put some eggs in. If they crack the secret to life and death, well, no one else will have to die like Silvia’s other dad, they can have all the time in the world to create their own utopia.

And the other basket of eggs is the Marvellous. She’s been so busy she’s scarcely had time to think of it [I’ve been on the lodging grind for 3+ months ;_;]. But can’t she just win and make the Masters let go of everything, set everyone free, end imperialism, or whatever? That’s how it works, right?

Oh, by the way, no one knows she’s been doing this shit. Not her father-ish figures, not her flatmate, not her partner, not her best friend, not her newspaper employees. Just her crew, and they are pretty pissed at her right now, so she’s been avoiding them.

Around this time, Silvia gets a letter from Shaw (one such father-ish figure) explaining about Nemesis and saying he might not make it back from his final revenge quest.

ALSO around this time (or maybe right after) Silvia gets what really sounds like a last will and testament from Jones (other father-ish figure).

And ALSO also around this time, Brett (Silvia’s best friend) is recovering from learning of the death of his partner.

Then Silvia forgets to be careful, and Caoimhe (her partner) sees her burns and asks what’s going on. She doesn’t buy Silvia’s story about a cooking accident she forgot to tell Caoimhe about (Silvia never cooks), and she really doesn’t appreciate that Silvia tried to lie. Caoimhe gives Silvia the chance to come clean.

So it all comes out. The Marvellous. The scientific voyages. The experimental surgeries. The multiple supernatural enemies. Caoimhe is appalled that Silvia would be taking all these risks without saying a single word—she thought the most dangerous shit Silvia was involved with was printing ill-advised articles about powerful people. Caoimhe’s extraordinarily patient and supportive, but Silvia didn’t even tell her!

The breach of trust frays at their relationship and drags Silvia further into guilt and despair, especially because Silvia’s support network is spread rather thin at the moment!

So… here we are. Silvia’s standing in the crumbling ruins of her relationships and ideals. She needs to help this 20-year-old cheat death, and then she needs to beat a bat at cards, and she’s so, so sad about everything.

This is it folks! We've hit rock bottom! Even I'm not sure how she's getting out of this one :) :) If you made it this far, thanks for reading <3

[The Six-Finger'd Scrimshander - @T6FS; Lord Oswald J. Emerson - @lord-emerson; August Shaw - @zeebreezin; Robin Jones - @viric-dreams; Brett Heroux - @thedandy-detective; Caoimhe Coledoc - @the-insouciant-scientist]

[adhdnojutsu]

Your opinion? https://www.tumblr.com/dranosh-haran-of-paleoworld/766237407554273280/why-do-you-hate-itachi-so-much?source=share

Had to use a different browser because this pleasant person has me blocked lol anyway.

TL;DR: Itachi had no right to do the things he did, but he also had no choice. Even if adult onlookers could come up with choices, he was a child trapped in a mindset his authority figures hammered into him in his formative years, and then he was put under additional duress. Come the fuck on.

"This guy willingly betrayed his own people and family, selling them out to the government who wanted to destroy them all."

"Willingly" when talking about a 11-12-year-old brainwashed, groomed, traumatized child under duress is kinda wild. Yes, Naruto is all about normalizing child soldiers, but there's a line and that's Itachi having his horrible "milestones" at an age where others are still in school.

And it's not treason to report a conspiracy to commit, well, treason.

More after the break. Enjoy this screencap of a literal child and one of the many adults who chose to fail him.

Itachi was 11 when he joined the ANBU, 12 when he killed the clan. His incompetent piece of shit father dragged him into a "kill or be killed" situation at 4, and he already had the muscle memory of slitting throats ON REFLEX?? What the everloving fuck did Fugaku do to his toddler? He was encouraged to leave school and enter the field for more death and horror at 8. All for the alleged greater good that was peddled to children and adults more aggressively than America's magical sky cloth. Fugaku and Danzo played a grooming tug-o-war with a literal prepub child and actively, deliberately, had him believe the weight of the world rested on his 3 inch shoulders. The fuck did anyone think was gonna happen when Itachi joined the ANBU everyone encouraged him to join, and did the work he was taught to admire - BY Fugaku, by the way. Fugaku wanted a peacemaker, then tried to start a war. Hm.

Also, Itachi didn't "sell out" his clan. If I know a family member is about to start something with predictably catastrophic ramifications, like, you know, a glorified terrorist invasion ("coup"), I have a moral obligation to report that. "Family" does not matter. Blood, water, starting a war is something you deserve to have sabotaged. And if you're willing to kill, you better be ready to be killed. Everyone who cheered for the coup willingly risked death and willingly doomed their families. "Bloodless revolution" my ass, that is delusional. As if Konoha is just gonna accept Fugaku after a COUP!? Fucking TREASON!? Oppressed or not, you sow violence, you reap violence, and public perception matters. The public's perception of the Uchiha coup would probably be *checks notes* treason :)

"His own people"? They all treated him like a trophy and an attack dog when they didn't outright abuse him for speaking his mind, when he was clearly old enough to let them exploit him. All they had for him was demands to make them proud and bring them glory, at the cost of his well-being. Chapter by chapter in Itachi Shinden, you can watch him wither and crumble. When Itachi's comrade was killed when he was 8, Fugaku literally said "He'll get over it" while his boy was falling apart in the next room. Those are not "his own people", they're one big, bubbling cunt stew with very few exceptions, judging by the novel.

Whether the government wanted to destroy the Uchiha clan or whether it was racist or oppressive ultimately doesn't matter when the active threat to world peace and countless lives is coming from the other side. Two things can be true at the same time, so yeah Konoha sucked, but also yeah, the Uchiha posed a threat. The clan's lives weren't in danger when they decided to endanger everyone over discrimination that isn't even as egregious as what fat people on airplanes have to deal with. Defunding the police (LMAO), not letting a latent traitor run for president, surveillance, and a dedicated, OPEN compound none of the other clans who got one bitched about. Wow, what a compelling reason to set the world on fire!

Yes, Konoha failed the clan, yes, Konoha is scum for that. But two wrongs don't make a right. I'm tired of this whole nonsense of "they're oppressed so they're allowed to act like total barbarians and be the next oppressor". I'm tired on a personal level which you can probably guess.

This is not a responsible adult:

"He knew about Obito and that he was behind the 9-Tails attack but said nothing to anyone. He discriminated against his own people and slaughtered them all to the last child."

He should definitely have reported Obito. But calling his actions against the clan discrimination is like saying the German police discriminates against that Berlin-based crime family because it happens to be a BIPOC minority. THEY ALSO HAPPEN TO BE THE FUCKING MOB. Of course, most Uchihas probably weren't active combatants and didn't deserve to die, but as horrible as it is, strategically, Danzo had a point when he said there could be no potential avengers.

Plus, outsiders like to focus on numbers as if more dead people means more suffering, but this isn't true. Just because 99 people suffer and die with me, doesn't mean each of us suffers and dies 100-fold. Sasuke was based when he said Itachi should have killed him, too. Outsiders don't want to accept this because it IS horrible, but sparing a young child after killing his whole family, is not kind. What would've awaited any children Itachi spared? The village that ordered their parents' slaughter? A world that clearly doesn't want them and will come after them at the first chance? Yeah sounds ever so fucking merciful. Just because unaffected gawkers think preserving a unique cultural or genetic group is the most important thing, doesn't mean the people actually affected have such priorities when literally staring death or a life of pain in the face.

"He cast Tsukuyomi on his own parents and brutally murdered them, tortured his own little brother beyond imagine with one torture session putting Sasuke in a fucking coma, one he would've never gotten out of if it wasn't for that bitch Tsunade and that's the only good Tsunade did in the series."

When did he cast Tsukuyomi on his parents? And "brutally", well, they surrendered and he cut them down rather quickly. All murders are brutal. Should he have raided the local vet and injected them with anaesthetics first? He was a 12-year-old child, crying, shaking, probably exhausted and barely coherent after having killed all the others, and looking at his final victims, his parents, comforting him. Striking them down quickly was the best for everyone involved at that point, anything more elaborate, "more gentle", would have prolonged this horror. Also what did Tsunade do wrong, and if Itachi hadn't knocked Sasuke out for a while, he would have gotten himself killed. The Tsukuyomi was overkill, 100%.

"Itachi thought he was wiser and more noble than his own people, which was pure and utter arrogance. When brought back as an edo, he said that a 7-year-old Sasuke could've changed the clan. He called himself Itachi Uchiha of Konoha and that he specifically had no regrets he was a massive piece of shit in life and death."

This is called interpretation. Yes, he was an arrogant child, he admitted this, Shisui told him, adults told him. But being an ass at the dawn of puberty doesn't invalidate the fact that he WAS smarter than most and the Uchiha uprising WAS a problem, and the clan was infinitely more arrogant than him for thinking they could just take power and that's the end of it. They were delusional. Being 11 when pointing this out doesn't mean he's wrong.

Vilifying him for calling himself "Itachi Uchiha of Konoha" is silly. Many nations will do horrible things behind the scenes to keep the peace, and just because Sasuke and Itachi were the tragic and ever so pretty victims of this, doesn't make Konoha worse than others. It is a place people actually live in. A place people call home and have a right to call home and feel safe and thrive in. Itachi did what he was forced to do by both sides, to protect people's home and peace, not to get headpats from Danzo and Hiruzen.

He also never said he didn't regret the massacre. The fact that he said he wished he would have confided in Sasuke, the fact of him telling Naruto, Sasuke, and Kabuto that he was wrong to try and solve everything on his own, all suggest he wishes it had been different. His words when he dissolves are "Mou miren ha nai", which can be interpreted as regretting nothing, but this is usually meant in a sense of unfinished business. Itachi could not un-kill the clan. Danzo was dead. What more could he do that he could still have "miren" about? Personally, I think he shouldn't have undone the whole Edo Tensei because he kinda owed Sasuke to stick around and fight the other Edo Tenseis manually, but that's not the point.

Actual footage of Itachi alone with his thoughts, probably:

"None of his plans make any kind of fucking sense. He wanted to save Konoha from war even though the other villages wouldn't have attacked for their own reasons."

Kindly look at Syria, Sudan, or Yemen, because the civil war the Uchiha were sure to start, would have been bad enough, you absolute pinecone. But I agree, Itachi's plans were mostly shit, but who taught him any kind of life skills or coping mechanisms? He wasn't parented, he wasn't guided, he was a trained attack dog. He never grew up mentally because when you're not allowed to feel like a child, know what being a child is, how are you gonna know when you're supposed to be all grown up and smart? He treated his suicide by Sasuke like a playdate. He toyed with him. He was a typical old soul, trauma and paralysis masquerading as maturity and composure. It's very apparent in the novels how helpless and small he felt. When the FUCK did he get a chance to unlearn his helplessness on one hand, and the world resting on his shoulders on the other? Itachi was deranged, but not by his own doing. A 4 to 12-year-old child is not responsible for their poor life "choices".

"So Itachi saved Konoha from zero potential wars, especially when none of the other villages attacked after Obito's, Orochimaru's, and Pain's assaults in the series."

I wasn't aware Itachi's Sharingan could accurately predict the future. He stopped the civil war that was certain to happen and that he could stop. Not a single ninja has ever been expected to fix the whole world and the few who expected it of themselves were even more deranged than Itachi. Why hold a 12-year-old to a higher standard just because he's foolish enough to do so himself? Right until Shisui died, Itachi clung to his naive dream of becoming the greatest ninja to stop all wars. And then, both Fugaku and Danzo demanded he be that, when Shisui's death just had him realize how helpless he is. And then, there was a war looming on the horizon that he COULD prevent.

"He practically sent Sasuke gift wrapped to Orochimaru or Danzo. He knew about Obito and Pain's plans and yet did nothing about them, which just screwed over Konoha immensely."

Yeah he fucked up with Orochimaru, and this was one of the things he could have predicted after Orochimaru tried it with him. Not killing Orochimaru when he had both cause and opportunity, was bafflingly stupid and I'll chalk it up to plot armour since Itachi will kill his own mother to protect Sasuke.

He was also a useless spy in Akatsuki, yes. He aided and abetted in several Kage and Jinchuuriki assassinations, all to keep a cover of questionable use.

We do have to grant him that he needed to stay alive to give Sasuke deserved closure. He didn't even know Obito wasn't Madara, so I don't expect him to have known much about Pain's abilities. Given he allegedly ties with Jiraiya and we all know what Pain did to him, Sasuke would not have gotten his revenge. As for Danzo, can we not underestimate him please? He had to be worn down into self-destruction by Sasuke, and when Itachi attacked him in the novel after getting the MS, he was immediately stopped.

"He was never a prodigy or anything, unlike Sasuke. His fights are just him using genjutsu on his opponents and overpowering them with it, which just childish and stupid. He pulled Susanoo, Mirror Yata, and the Tsoka Blade out of his ass."

I agree Susano'o and its rigs were asspull done to compete with DBZ ratings, but how was he not a prodigy when he was recommended for graduation at 8? Poor writing or not, the canon fact is that Itachi was way ahead of his peers and many adults. We can't blame a character's personality in one moment, then bad writing the next. All writing boils down to creating the character's reality and all facts written by the author are equally valid.

Calling genjutsu childish and stupid is silly as you can apply this to all jutsu. Naruto's army of clones is arguably more ridiculous than mastering an otherwise underdiscussed technique at a level that has people like Kakashi scared. Personally, I think the big noisy techniques like Kisame's water jutsus and Hashirama's Slaparama are a lot more childish and geared towards hollering little boys. Itachi's fighting style is elegant and super duper gay.

"This fucker is all over the place and doesn't make sense. Dushman-e-jaan has posts that go into greater detail about how this guy doesn't make sense, and I recommend you read them as she does an infinitely better job at explaining my dislike for Itachi than I have."

Dushman explicitly supports this:

But thinks Konoha is worse for allegedly being this:

In other words, Doucheman is fine with making 0 sense whatsoever as long as they can virtue-signal for fascists if they know how to sell the underdog act.

[macabr3-barbi3]

God, That's Good!

Chapter 5: Pentious' Miracle Elixir

A few weeks after Lucifer's arrival, Husk is witness to a couple spectacles at the market.

Tags: Sera is Still the Worst™️, Huskerdust Beginnings, Niffty Shenanigans

THINGS ARE PICKING UP IN THE NEXT CHAPTER RADIOAPPLE FRIENDS ���🍎 here is a secret lil apology to Sir Pentious (I'm sorry, I love you, but the plot must plot) and here is my weekly thank you and handover of my heart and soul to @fraugwinska ily 💕

Act 1:  Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7 🥧 Chapter 8 🥧 Chapter 9

As soon as he saw the little kid running around and setting up a makeshift stage, Husk knew he was going to end up with a headache today, one way or another. It had been a few weeks now since that Morningstar character had come into the picture, and from behind the bar, opposite the wall to Alastor’s living quarters, he could hear the pair of them chatting all hours of the day. It was basically up to Husk these days to run the show since they didn’t have any ‘meat’ for the pies lately, not with Alastor so wrapped up in his new passion project that he didn’t have any spare time to scout for targets. The news was lamenting the fact that the Bayou Butcher seemed to be on vacation- great for the people he wasn’t killing, but bad for ratings.

He heard the story Alastor gave the man- that he valued ‘quality’ over quantity and waited until he had enough revenue from the bar to get decent meat rather than using whatever roadkill he could find like some others did. He didn’t tell him the truth, of course; only Husk was privy to the information about the real source of the filling of Lovett’s pies. He knew already, somehow, that this Lucifer was going to get sucked into it like he himself had.

Alastor wasn’t the kind of guy to get involved with if a person could avoid it, even before his extracurricular activities. He was too perceptive, too intuitive, too fucking good at getting people to trust him and then stabbing them in the back- whether that was literal or figurative. He didn’t know what the angle was that he was working with Lucifer, but it couldn’t be good if Alastor wasn’t even hunting because of it. If Alastor was interested then the guy was fucked.

And sure, Husk wanted to do the decent thing and warn him. He had tried to steer him right, steer him away, the first time he stepped into the shop; he had seen him outside looking at the place upstairs, abandoned for God knows how long, and knew, somehow, that Alastor would sink his claws in. His employer was borderline obsessed with the apartment above the pie shop, constantly going up there for no reason, checking the locks, making sure people stayed away, refusing to rent it out to the few people that did ask about it despite the stories that surrounded it. 

But Benjamin Husker was no fool- not when it came to Alastor Lovett, not anymore. He had made that mistake one time, and once was all it took.

They met at his speakeasy when it was still open- the height of Prohibition, he had a real popular one just outside of New Orleans, and Alastor had been a regular when he acted as the bartender. He went by Jack, keeping his real name off the record for both his business and his more pleasurable ventures, the weekly gambling parties he held in his back room where Lady Luck was his steadfast companion in keeping his wallet lined with bills and his establishment with flowing alcohol. Those with lesser luck were no fan of his, but he kept out of the public, kept his cheating on the low, and never let anyone close enough to betray him- before Lovett. They were friends, he and Alastor; good enough friends that when his place was raided, police pouring through every opening the building had and hunting down the bartender specifically, he had fled to Alastor’s newly acquired shop on the other side of town. He had expected support, sympathy, the normal things that one expects from a friend when their life had gone to shit.

Alastor had given him that shit eating grin and said, “why, they acted on that tip faster than I expected!”

He hadn’t so much as pulled his fist back before Alastor had revealed the dirt he had on him- “wouldn’t those you’ve bankrupted just love to know the real name of the man that’s been emptying their pockets?” - and he was backed into a corner. He was roped into helping Alastor with disposal of his hunting prizes, and while the Prohibition laws were now taken out of effect there were still members of the law trying to retroactively imprison those that had been operating the speakeasies; so Alastor still kept him under thumb by threatening to go to the authorities.

He wasn’t getting involved anymore. Whatever Alastor had planned for the poor guy, it wasn’t any of Husk’s business. He was only looking out for himself these days- caring about people, trusting them, it only led to getting fucked over in the end.

The kid he had noticed in the market had finished setting up their stage and now stood atop it, a drum that was far too big for them held against their body as they beat on it. “Ladies and gentlemen!” They called across the crowd, high pitched and feminine, waving their arms around to catch people’s attention. Looking closer, Husk realized it was a girl under the hat they wore, wispy blonde bits poking haphazardly from under it. “If I can have your attention! I am here to tell you about something absolutely stupid!”

A hush falls across the crowd and some laughter breaks out. From the curtain behind the girl, Husk hears a hissed, “stupendous! It’s stupendous, not stupid!”

She giggles. “Oh, right! Something stupendous! Do you, sir, have trouble growing hair?” She sticks her finger directly in the face of an older gentleman with a full beard, salt and pepper at the temples and seeming to have grown just fine. He raises an eyebrow at her and Husk stifles a chuckle- there’s a muffled sound behind the curtain, like someone smacking their palm to their face in frustration and another hissed whisper. “Ohhhh, the bald ones. You got it, sir!” She turns in place, finger still pointing out and redirecting to someone that might fit what she seemed to be looking for. “Do you have trouble growing hair?”

The man- properly bald this time, apparently- shrugs. “Sometimes, I guess,” he tells her, and she bangs on the drum harder, more eyes turning her direction.

“Excellent news! I have something wonderful for you then!” A basket is pushed from behind the curtain, overflowing with bottles of which she grabs one, holding it high above her head to show the crowd. “Introducing to you, New Orleans, Pentious’ Miracle Elixir! Hair falling out? Hair doesn’t grow at all? Take me for example- I was just as bald and ugly as that guy until I came across the illustrative-”

“Illustrious!”

“Oh, sorry! The illustrious barber and miracle worker, Sir Edward Pentious! He gave me this elixir less than thirty days ago and now look at me-” She reaches up to whip off her hat and tugs a little too hard. The hat sticks to the blonde hair beneath it, tugging back far enough that it starts to slip from her forehead- a wig, poorly applied, with luscious blonde curls falls to the floor before the girl can scoop it back up and tug it sloppily onto her head again, bits of a bright ginger sticking out from under it. “It’s grown back better than ever!”

The crowd laughs, likely thinking it was more of a comedy act than anything else, and Husk prepares to leave when he senses a presence at his side. “Whaddya think? Gonna get some of that miraculous elixir?”

Husk has seen this particular prostitute before, and has sent him off more than once- he always gets right into the innuendo and offers, so the teasing question is unexpected and maybe not entirely unwelcome. He’s taller than Husk by a good bit, lean muscles that fill out his buttoned shirt and too-short shorts well and fluffy blonde hair that hangs over his eyes. He’s looking away from Husk now, gaze trained on the girl on the stage, but it’s obvious that he’s chosen Husk as his potential mark.

Again.

The sleazy fucker that runs the brothel in town is watching the pair of them closely, thin arms folded across his chest and waiting for the young man to make a move like he does every week when Husk makes his way to the market for some bullshit or another. It’s the first time the man’s greeted him with a question about what was happening around them rather than a statement about what he could do for the right price- Husk doesn’t even know his name yet.

In answer to his question, Husk scoffs. “Fuck no,” he says, and the corner of the man’s face that he can see quirks up. “At best it’s river water with some food coloring in it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s worse,” he adds, as a man steps out from behind the curtain of the stage. He’s pulled the young girl back from the edge, hissing under his breath at her to stop handing the bottles out without payment and fix her wig correctly, that she was embarrassing him.

“Ya’d think if she was doin’ such a bad job he would do the advertisin’ himself,” the young man says, gesturing to the long, black hair that flows down the salesman’s back, sleek and shiny and definitely not a product of the green stuff in his bottles. “I guess people are a little easier with their ‘fuck off’ sentiments when it’s a kid.” His eyebrow creases, eyes dark as he watches the man grab the girl’s upper arm and pull her out of the way to address the crowd himself- she stands to the side of the stage wiping at her eyes, loading her arms up with the bottles again. Husk notices, at the front of the crowd, is Alastor; Lucifer stands just to the side of him, some combative expression on his face as the man speaks.

“Well, whether my ‘fuck off’ is gentle or not, I know when I’m being sold to- whether it’s some bullshit medicinal crap or a warm body.” Husk says, and irritation flashes across the young man’s face when he turns to him. Even if he was still turning him down, this was a lot more interesting than the simpering whore act he usually put on, and for once Husk thinks there might be more to him than is being marketed. “Take your goods elsewhere.”

And wow, Husk might be sick of the propositioning but he would never get tired of those eyes. That Valentino always brought the same kind of guys and gals on board for his whore house, short and skinny as a twig with tits or an ass to round them out; this one was different. His eyes, for one, were different shades, a brown and a green that complimented the shade of his hair; a tiny gap between his two front teeth that made his smile seem genuine even when he was leering; and he was tall, unlike what the pimp usually favored.

“My goods, huh? Usually it’s ‘getcha ass outta here’ when you’re turnin’ me down. Aww, are ya warmin’ up to me?” He slides an arm around Husk’s shoulders, leaning his non-existent weight on the bartender, and bends to whisper in his ear. “I could return the favor, ya know- warm you up instead. Whaddya think?”

Husk sighs, but doesn’t forcibly remove his arm like he normally would, instead turning to meet his eyes properly. “Look, I know your boss keeps sending you over here when I’m out because I look like an easy mark or whatever but I’m not interested in paying for sex- especially not from someone that could be doing better things with his time than being a hooker.”

His face twitches and he laughs. “Val does say you look nice and repressed,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder where the pimp has been distracted by another one of his wards. “But he actually told me if I couldn’t get ya in the sack today that I had to stop tryin.’ Guess it’s been nice gettin’ to know ya, even if I do think we would have a lot ‘a fun together.” He winks his brown eye, and the smile he gives Husk is soft and genuine. “Ya ever change your mind, stop by the house and ask for Angel.”

It startles a laugh out of Husk. “No way that’s your real name.”

“Might as well be- sounds better for business than ‘Anthony’ anyway.” He shrugs and turns back to the house where Valentino stands outside with an unkind smile on his face, crooking his finger like a ‘come hither’ at the young man. “See ya around.”

“You ever find yourself on Fleet Street,” Husk says before he can really think about the words, “come into Lovett’s Pies. Can’t recommend the main dish but I can hook you up at the bar. Ask for Husk if I’m not around.”

Angel- Anthony- chuckles. “Is that your real name?”

“Stop by and find out,” he replies with a grin, and when he laughs and heads back to the whore house Husk doesn’t miss the nasty glare that Valentino is shooting his way before he swings it to Angel.

His distraction gone, Husk turns his attention back to the stage- Lucifer and Alastor are on it now, off to one side with a random townsperson in the chair with a face full of lather as they watch Pentious flick shaving soap onto the crowd as he wildly gestures and waves his hands above the person that sits in the chair before him. Lucifer looks almost offended by the display, eyes narrowed and his mouth half open in shock; Alastor, as usual, wears a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and seems to be more focused on Lucifer than the raving madman beside them. He stops waving his arms and holds his hand out to the girl- she’s not paying attention, her mind clearly elsewhere until he snaps, “Niffty! My razor!” He closes his eyes and holds his hand out.

She startles, reaching into the pocket of the jacket she wears and pulling something out that she slaps into his hands- he immediately brings it to the face of the man in his chair, only noticing when the crowd begins to laugh that she’s handed him a drumstick and not one of his razors that she’s opened for him. She apologizes with a giggle, diving back into the jacket and bringing out a folded razor that she opens carefully. He takes it, more hand waving and gesturing before he actually brings the blade to the man’s face and starts shaving him in short, sloppy strokes. There’s shaving soap everywhere, streaks on the poor man’s face that have been missed, stubble peeking through where the blade wasn’t angled correctly. 

A murmur ripples across the crowd as Lucifer opens his blade, finally tuning the flamboyant man out- and Husk sees the glint in Alastor’s eyes as the razor catches the light before Lucifer brings it down to swipe in swift, smooth strokes across his impromptu customer’s face. Excited cries fill the air, and even Husk is impressed with the dexterity and skill of the shave. Pentious doesn’t seem to realize what had happened yet, still jerkily shaving away until Niffty tugs at his coat and he drops his razor to the ground in sheer shock.

“Beadle Dempsey, if you would,” Alastor says, snakeoil grin in place as he steps aside so the Church official can come forward and place a delicate hand to the faces of both men.

“Mister Morningstar is the clear winner,” she says, wiping her hand off on the coat of the man that still had shaving soap on his face. To Pentious, she gives him a stern look. “Swindlers are not taken kindly to in this area, sir. I think it would be for the best if you move along elsewhere.” And like that she has dismissed him, turning back to Lucifer with a raised eyebrow. Pentious mutters something under his breath to the girl and her face falls.

Husk creeps closer, not needing to hear the salesman berate the young girl for her failed performance but ready to step in if needed. She’s perked up by the time he’s close enough to hear though- “this area was a bust, but maybe if we go the next town over I can practice my lines!”

“Niffty dear, I’m not sure your idea is accomplishing much more than giving me a reputation as a grifter. Perhaps we dispose of the bottles and go back to the demonstrative shaves!”

She tilts her head at him in question. “But you’re not any good at shaving, we have to give people a reason to come to you! Let’s brainstorm…”

The pair wander off behind the curtain, leaving Husk to wonder who the brains between the two of them was and allowing him to catch the end of the conversation between the Beadle and his own employer and guest.

“I think Judge Cain would be pleased to be attended to by such a fine barber,” she was saying, “but of course I shall have to come see the establishment myself first- as a man of both the law and the Church it’s important that he not be exposed to an unseemly environments. No disrespect to either of you,” she adds with a tone that drips insincerity, “but you must agree that Fleet Street is in the less desirable part of town. So many nasty rumors, and such colorful, dreadful history.” She looks Lucifer and Alastor up and down, the way they stand closely together, the clench of Lucifer's fist. “I suppose I’ll try to stop for an inspection of sorts in the next week or so. In the meantime- Emilia, Charlotte, come along.” She snaps her fingers like she’s summoning dogs, and two young women part the crowd to stand beside her.

The taller of the two, blonde haired and blue eyed, waves to Lucifer, and he looks as though he’s been punched in the stomach. He straightens up immediately- which still only put him at about Alastor’s shoulder- and looks Beadle Dempsey straight in the eyes; a feat many men in New Orleans struggled with even when they weren’t significantly shorter than her.

“I can assure you, ma’am,” Lucifer says clearly, “that both you and the esteemed Judge are welcome in my parlor anytime. I’ll be sure to make it extra welcoming, just for you.” He smiles and it doesn’t meet his eyes, and Husk feels unease run down his spine, like he’s looking at something that shouldn’t be witnessed. He thinks he understands now, Alastor’s unspoken obsession with the man- there was more to him than met the eye, something dark that lurked beneath the facade he put up. Something dangerous and raw- and from the way that he was looking at Lucifer, it looked like Alastor fully intended to bring that darkness clawing to the surface.

Act 1:  Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7 🥧 Chapter 8 🥧 Chapter 9

just poppin in here with the AO3 link just in case ❤️https://archiveofourown.org/works/57993799/chapters/147639037

[ewingstan]

So there's a few ways we've seen the public hostility to capes be framed.

There's complaint 1, the general "all parahumans are more trouble than they're worth," which has been something that's at least been brewing since Worm (a lot of Cauldron and the PRT's activities being focused on tamping down on this perception). A fairly common trope in superhero media. You see it everything from the X-Men to the Civil War comic event. Hell, its popular enough that the last two comics I've read (Chainsaw Man and Clown Corps), which are pretty much as different as you can be while still being in the same vague genre and medium, both had "Villains try to get everyone to fear superpeople indiscrimantly" plots.

But then there's the more specific complaint 2: "cape heroes aren't justifying their presence because they directly cause violence without lowering the amount of crime and violence overall." Now, Capricorn is obviously framing it in these terms because he's trying to appeal to the police he's talking to; he knows that's a complaint made about cops and he wants to make them feel like they're on the same side fighting the same battles (and in turn kinda claiming that both capes and cops are "against" a public who criticizes them). But I'd also say that the text itself wants us to consider complaint 2. Worm basically endorses it; a lot of the book reinforces the claim that capes/cops are integral to how a system gives rise to villains/criminals and largely fails to deal with such problems in a useful manner.

The question is whether Ward is best interpreted as making the opposite claim, endorsing Tristan's argument against complaint 2. Its certainly sympathetic to the frustrations of the "don't tell us we didn't make a difference when you weren't there to see" crowd—it almost has to be, given our narrator. But whereas in some parts I read Ward as saying "yeah its frustrating, but they're right, you aren't making a real difference and are part of the problem" other times it does portray Breakthrough making real changes for the better that couldn't have been accomplished other ways by fighting ontologically evil enemies (see: Teacher).

Again, kinda hard to do a story from this POV and completely avoid that. Disco Elyisum probably does the best job of it and I've still seen people argue that it doesn't avoid it entirely (still unsure where I land on that). Zdarsky's Daredevil (man I need to catch up on that) tries to avoid it in a way that doesn't really cohere; largely because it tries to be anti-prison while still framing characters like Spider-Man as paragons. Though in that at least it kinda works with Matt Murdock's whole pattern of righteous violence followed by intense doubt and guilt followed by newly directed righteous violence. I guess I'll have to keep reading to see how things ultimately land.

[thetypingpup]

"I was wondering when you'd come find me."

Doused in deep blue light, Haechan calls to you from his place on the couch. He sits right in the middle, arms draped over the back, shamelessly eyeing you as you come closer. His bright red jacket stands out even in the darkness, the leather holding a subtle gleam that matches the glint in his eyes. A lazy smirk quirks the corner of his lips, his smirk widening the closer you get.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" He entices you closer with a taunt, an obvious challenge evident in the lilt in his voice. He wants to rile you up, injecting just a hint of desperate frustration into the lust. It works like a charm, and your feet move forward, your fingers already itching to wrap around his neck.

Neither of you care about how public this is, how you're both taunting each other in the middle of a party like this. The teeming throng of people seems to fade from view, the music receding from your perception, save for the strong base that serves as the tempo you both follow. As much as he taunts, as much as he tries to get the upper hand, he really wants you to overtake him like this, to play with him however you want. Which is why when you slip between his legs with your hands sliding up his thighs, he spreads his legs wider, letting you grab and grope his thighs through the denim. When your lips start to kiss and such on his neck, he tilts his head back and moans at the attention, sighing in content and easily melting beneath you. The more you play with him, the more turned on he gets, and you and any onlookers can see the noticeable tent in his jeans.

Your legs are on either side of his lap as you settle on top of him, right as your hands make their way to either side of his neck, pulling him towards you. He spreads his legs wider, opening himself up to you, lips already parting to let you slip your tongue between them. You grind against his arousal, making him suck in a breath and hiss out a moan against your lips. He doesn't touch you, he doesn't dare move his hands from where they clutch the back of the couch, not until you tell him he can. For now, you're content to just play with him, to leave marks that will stand out even in the dark light of the party, and he's content to let you play with him like the slut he is. Your lip gloss shimmers and shines on his lips, the subtle tint of your lipstick underneath staining the skin around the marks you left, deepening them beautifully. Haechan can't stop moaning, can't stop letting his hips roll up against you, and you let him show everyone just how much of a desperate slut he is. He lets you undress him just a bit, parting his jacket wider and pulling his shirt aside to mark along his collarbones. He lets you use him as a plaything, lets you pull on his hair, slide your tongue into his mouth as you kiss him, mark him as yours for the night.

And when you've decided you've toyed with him enough, you pull back, leaving him there a completely debauched, ruined mess. Now you have the upper hand, and you smirk at him as you walk away, daring him to make the next move. If he wants more, he's gonna have to come and get you, and beg for what he wants loud enough for everyone to hear.

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Anything But Love Part 2

AN: Hello my loves! First, I’m gonna apologize for disrespecting the sanctity of democracy, I hope you all can forgive me maybe. Love for Duties Sake Part 5 is still 150% coming, I’m just trying to be a good person, and A. Not make it a book. And B. Actually give them some peace for once in their lives (spoiler alert it’s not going well)  SO yeah here's this gem of a story while I work on that, Shuri is once again a brat but maybe just maybe she doesn't actually mean to be a brat? Idk crazy idea. Y’all asked for Y/N to have a little bit of bite to her, I hope I did that lol. Blame two of your favorites on here for this coming out this morning instead of last night-

As always this is dedicated to the lovely @pinkwright, I simply exist to write fake dating for them.

Summary: Being the head of PR for the Udaku family came with its challenges. But staying on top of public perception and answering to elders paled in comparison to your most formidable challenge, dealing with the princess.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, like BREIF mentions of sexual elements. that’s it I think.

Word count: 4,658

Masterlist.  Taglist.  Part 1.

Suggested listening: Bitches Broken Hearts - Billie Ellish 

“You can pretend you don't miss me (me) You can pretend you don't care All you wanna do is kiss me (me) Oh, what a shame I'm not there.”

“And again! One, two, three, four dip! One, two, three, four, turn!”

The feeling of Shuri’s foot coming down on yours had you pulling your hand from hers, a loud “Ow!” spewing from your lips. 

“I wouldn’t have stepped on your foot if you had it in the right place.” Shuri looked down at you smugly as you rubbed your foot. 

“Well maybe if you hadn’t skipped the first step, I wouldn’t be confused as to where we were at.” You glared up at her, wanting nothing more than to shoot up from your position on the floor and wipe that smug look off her face.

“Are you two really not over your issues, seriously? Mama gave you both a week, I thought you would have settled this by now.” T’Challa’s voice, while slightly annoying at this exact moment, was still right. 

Queen Ramonda had given both you and Shuri a week to come to some sort of acceptance of the deal you both agreed to. Banning Shuri from entering her lab and you from your office, she hoped the time away from work would give you both some clarity about the situation, leading to you putting your childish bickering to the side and finally working together again.

While this all sounded good on paper, the time away from your safe spaces seemed to leave the two of you more irritable than before. Shuri’s attitude is on full display and your patience running dangerously low. Luckily, once she noticed this the Queen called in the one favor she had left, hoping maybe she could talk sense into the two of you before it was too late. But until she showed up under the Queen’s strict orders T’Challa was to teach you and Shuri the waltz. 

“The only issue I have is that she cannot follow directions! I am supposed to be leading her in this dance yet every move she makes is contradictory to the one I have made. I step left, and she goes right. I take two steps forward, and she takes two backward. How am I to lead someone as stubborn as Y/N?” Shuri folded her arms over her chest, no longer giving you the satisfaction of looking in your direction once she finished her array of insults. Classy. 

You rose from where you had been sitting checking your foot. Where Shuri may have beaten you in height, you had her in pure intimidation. Shuri was all bark and no bite and the minute you really mouthed off back to her, she faltered. “Maybe if I had a good leader, someone who I trust to lead, maybe then I’d have no problem following them. But when she can’t even remember the order of simple steps to a waltz, how am I supposed to want to follow her mkhuluwe? (brother)” 

T’Challa tried to answer and de-escalate the situation but his sister's fiery attitude stopped him. 

“I find your continual suggesting that I am an unfit leader to be disrespectful Y/N.” Shuri took a step closer to you, looking down at you through the curls that had fallen into her face. “Some would even say what you’re suggesting is treason. Are you committing treason against the Princess?” The tone in her voice was cocky, like a cat playing with her food. What you said was not treason, you knew it, she knew it, T’Challa knew it, and everyone else in the room knew it. But still, she chose to pull rank on you, a subtle reminder that you two were not acting off of an even playing field. Another low blow. 

“You know I almost wish what I said was treason worthy Shuri, I’d gladly take whatever punishment that brings over having to continue this charade with you.” You chuckled softly. “Fifty years of solitary confinement, I think I’ll take my chances.” 

The young Princess’s fists balled and the next smart remark was just about to leave her lips when another voice cut in. One that wasn’t yours, hers, or T’Challa’s. 

“Bast! You both still fight like children!” You and Shuri both whipped around to see Nakia leaning up against the ballroom wall behind you. The sight of her had your feet moving faster than your brain could process, leading you right into Nakia’s arms. She let out a groan when your body connected with hers, squeezing you tightly. “Well hello to you too, usisi omncinci (little sister).” 

“I didn’t know you’d be here so early.” You still hadn’t removed yourself from Nakia’s body as you spoke. 

“Well, clearly she is,” Shuri’s slick remark rang out before Nakia could speak. “Now move, you’re not the only one who has missed her.” 

With reluctance, you peeled your body off of Nakia’s to allow Shuri to hug her. As you watched the two embrace you were brought back to your childhood, Nakia’s family being the other one that you lived with when you weren't in the palace. She had taught you everything you knew about being an adult and your eagerness at her return was no different now than it was when you were younger. 

When Shuri finally finished she stepped back next to you, leaving T’Challa as the only one who hadn’t greeted Nakia yet. 

“Hi.” He said sheepishly as he stepped up into his girlfriend's space. Nakia smiled fondly at him, holding her hands out for T’Challa to take. 

“Hi.”

“You did not tell me you were coming back.” T’Challa’s hands rubbed idly at Nakia’s knuckles, memorizing the feeling of her skin under his. These moments between the two of them were rare, Nakia busy with her war dog duties and T’Challa with his kingly responsibilities. 

“Mm, I wasn’t supposed to be back this early but, Queen Mother called.” Nakia took her hand and cupped T’Challa’s cheek, rubbing gently on his soft skin before placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “And, I missed you mtuwam (my person).”  

The sight of the two lovers made you smile and that same smile stayed on your face as you backed away to give them some privacy. Of course however when in the presence of the Princess such a smile can only last for so long. The sight of her staring at you in disgust had you rolling your eyes at her. “What is your problem? Is your heart so cold that you can’t appreciate a couple in love?” 

Shuri let out a dry laugh. “No, I adore my brother and Nakia, she makes him significantly less lame. It is your reaction that I don’t believe.” 

“What? I am a lover of love. A certified lover girl like Drake said. Especially true love like that.” 

“Mhm if that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, but that’s not what I have heard.” Shuri dismissed herself from the ballroom, seeing no need to continue the dance lesson now that T’Challa was occupied.

You followed hot on her trail, what the hell had she “heard” about you that could make her of the opinion that you weren't a lover of love. It was blasphemy honestly, defamation of character. 

“Shuri!” You grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop in her tracks. She tried to pull out of your grasp, expecting to overpower you easily. What she didn’t account for though was your newfound muscle from training with Ayo, rendering her attempts unsuccessful. 

“Let me go.” She still hadn’t turned to face you, to you this seemed like disrespect, another time Shuri couldn’t even give you the decency to look at you. But internally, Shuri’s heart was beating a mile a minute. She hadn’t even realized how much she missed the feeling of you touching her skin. Holding hands to dance was one thing but the way you held tightly onto her now felt like a security blanket, holding her down to earth. 

“What are you talking about? What did you hear?” 

Shuri tried to pull her arm again to no avail, taking a deep breath, she turned and faced you. “When I tell you, you’ll remove your grabby hands from my wrist, yes?” 

You roll your eyes at her use of the word grabby, this was a tactic you two would use often as kids and she never had a problem with it then. “Yes, if you tell me what you’re talking about, I’ll let you go.” 

The Princess looked you up and down as she debated how to spill this information. “All I’m saying is I find it hard to believe that you are a lover girl when you so clearly have shown that you’re the opposite.” 

That got you to loosen your hold on Shuri’s wrist just enough for her to pull away, her heart finally steadying. But to your surprise, she didn’t leave, rather staying and standing in front of you almost waiting for your questions. 

“Explain what you’re talking about right now!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly under your urgency.

“Adah.” That name was all Shuri gave you as you two stood staring at each other. “Oh don’t play dumb now, you two have been doing this thing since we were teenagers.” 

You gritted your teeth, for a second time today, an Udaku child was right about something. Adah was a year younger than you and Shuri, her grandparents sat on the council so she was frequently in the palace growing up. Shuri never cared too much for Adah, saying that she was too whiny and took up too much of your time. This dislike only increased when you and Adah started casually dating as teenagers. 

While you put the emphasis on casualness, Adah could never do the same; always trying to cling to your side and attach herself to your and Shuri’s plans. This only led to the Princess feeling more confident in her ability to voice her disdain for the young girl, consistently pointing out her shortcomings. When you finally did end things with Adah, she still seemed to pine after you, even going as far as to join the Dora Milaje to maintain proximity. 

“Adah is just a friend Shuri, the same as she was back then.” This earned you a laugh from the Princess. 

“Oh I’m sure she’s just a friend to you, but she doesn't see you the same way and she makes it abundantly clear.” Shuri looked you up and down. “And you don’t seem to have a problem with that, do you?” 

You chose to ignore the second part of Shuri’s statement, instead attacking the first part. “Why does it matter who I’m friends with Shuri?” 

She scoffed at you and attempted to walk away, done with this conversation. But you had grown tired of things always ending on her word, by her command. So you stepped in front of her, blocking her path with your body. When she stepped in another direction you followed suit, leaving her nowhere to go. “Why does it matter who I’m friends with?” 

“Get out of my way.”

“Answer my question.” 

The Princess was left with a decision, attempt to worm her way around you, success rate: twenty-five percent, or answer your question. Reluctantly she chose the ladder. 

“I do not care who you’re friends with Y/N. Truly, I don’t.” She used the closeness of your bodies that you had created to her advantage, leaning over you. “But Adah, she’s not just a friend, is she? Because I remember what it was like to be your friend and I don’t recall it involving sneaking out of your bedroom at three AM every other night.” 

Fuck. 

Your eyes widened at her words and your breath caught in your chest. How did she know about that? Those were isolated incidents. The few times when you had permitted Adah into your bedroom late at night it was just long enough to make you feel something again, before swiftly kicking her out. 

“Oh don’t get quiet on me now Y/N, where's all that energy you just had?” Shuri teased you, cocking her head to the side with a chuckle.

Two options played out in your head at that moment. The first was to stick to what you knew worked with Shuri, logic, and reason. Walk away from the conversation and wait until you were both cooler-headed. The second option was to really give it to Shuri, and remind her why your attitude was just as feared as hers, with the hopes that she’d step off afterward. Two shit options but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“You know what Shuri, first off fuck you. We’re not friends, right? So, who I decide to spend my time with is none of your business.” Your words had Shuri straightening up, no longer towering over you. 

“Second, fuck you again. You ended this, you didn’t wanna be my friend anymore, so yeah maybe I decided to be friends with Adah again. But guess who no longer gets an opinion on it? You.” You had effectively backed the Princess into a wall, her having nowhere to go but to press her back up against it and wait for you to finish. 

“Third and finally fuck you. Fuck your bullshit ass entitled attitude that pushes everyone away that tries to help you. Fuck your inability to not be an asshole for once in your life. Fuck you for not even being able to be a decent non-friend to me Shuri. I mean shit, we didn’t have to be best friends but you don’t have to be such a dick.” 

By the time you finished speaking, you realized you had said way more than you’d originally intended to. Letting some of the anger that you’d held onto from your adolescence spew out on the princess now. You two stared at each other for a moment, not sure what to say after your honest words.

Shuri tried to speak but you stopped her with a raise of your hand. There was nothing left to say here. Backing away from the Princess you ignored her calls and made your way away from her as quickly as you could. 

Once you were clear out of sight Shuri sunk down to the floor, burying her head in her knees. How did she keep doing this? Insulting and pushing you away when all she wanted to do was recreate the relationship you guys used to have. But how could she when clearly she had hurt you so badly? 

Two shadows appeared over Shuri and she looked up to see Nakia and T’Challa, locked arm and arm, staring down at her. The last thing she wanted right now was some lecture from her brother. “What do you want?” 

“We heard everything.” T’Challa rocked on his heels slightly, his nervousness apparent. He wasn’t sure how to go about a situation like this. Being king, that was easy. But being an ubhuti omdalana? (older brother) This was much harder. 

“Okay…” Shuri buried her head back into her knees, her braids shielding her face from view.  

The King looked to Nakia, hoping his girlfriend might have something to say here to help the situation. Instead, the war dog just smiled and squeezed T’Challa’s arm. “I am going to check on Y/N.” She whispered to him quietly. “You got this.” 

T’Challa held tightly to Nakia as she tried to pull away, shooting her a “Do not leave me here.” look, which only made Nakia smile. After a few tugs, she finally got her arm out of T’Challa’s hold and she bent down to speak to Shuri. “Sisi (sister), try to at least listen to what he says hmm?” She rubbed the princess’s shoulder gently, satisfied that she could go when Shuri gave her a small nod. 

When Nakia left T’Challa sat down next to his sister, pulling his knees to his chest to mimic her. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.”

“Okay…” The siblings sat in silence for a little bit, T’Challa unsure of what to say. He tried to think what his Baba would do if he were still here or what kind words his mother would offer but he drew blanks. Just as he went to speak Shuri’s head popped up. 

“It is like she wants me to hate her or something.”

“Ingaba uthetha ukuthini? (What do you mean?)” T’Challa turned to look at his little sister confused by her words. 

“Y/N, it’s like she wants me to hate her. Everything she does I’m convinced she only does it to infuriate me.” T’Challa recognized the tone of his sister's voice, it was the same one that developed when she had solved a math problem or fixed a mechanical issue by herself. A tone of finality. 

“And what has she done thus far to make you hate her?” Now that he understood where Shuri’s problem lay, her brother felt much more confident helping her work through it. 

Shuri looked up at her brother as if he was crazy. “What do you mean what has she done to make me hate her? You heard the whole argument right?” 

T’Challa nodded. 

“Then you have heard just the most recent thing she’s done to infuriate me, becoming friends with Adah.” 

“And why can she not be friends with Adah?” T’Challa posed the question simply, raising his eyebrows at the Princess. 

“Because she knows I dislike Adah, she could have chosen any girl in the palace to be friends with and yet she chooses the one she knows I do not like? What kind of a friend does that?” Shuri let out a puff of air as she spoke about your behavior, but she didn’t stop there. 

“I mean really mkhuluwe (brother), do your friends treat you like that?” 

“Shuri,” T’Challa tried to stop his sister from continuing. 

“One moment, I am just saying who gave her the right to be so annoying! Friends are not supposed to be annoying-” 

“Shuri,” T’Challa tried again to interject but was shut down. 

“You came to listen to me talk, yet you keep cutting me off. Like I was saying friends are not supposed to be annoying, petulant, life-sucking-”

T’Challa couldn’t stand it any longer and finally, he fully interrupted her. “Shuri! For Bast's sake listen to me for a moment.” 

Shuri cocked her head back in disbelief, cutting her eyes at him in the process. “Did you just yell at me?” 

The King swallowed, “Yes.” 

Shuri looked him up and down before nodding, impressed at his ability to finally stand up to her. “Go on.” 

“All of this,” He gestured around her body. “Is because you’re upset with Y/N, yes?” 

Shuri faltered for a second, “Not just because of Y/N-”

“Your heart rate increases when you are lying, try again.” 

The Princess gasped, shoving her older brother. “I told you about using your black panther powers on me, it’s weird!” 

T’Challa only laughed. “But I am right, yes? All of this is because you’re mad that Y/N has made friends with someone you do not like.” 

“Yes.” Shuri’s response was quick, almost as if she didn’t wanna agree to what T’Challa had said. 

“But sisi, were you not the one to end the friendship with Y/N in the first place? How can you be mad at the way she has chosen to move on?” T’Challa’s words struck a chord with his sister. “Even if she did deliberately choose Adah to upset you, which we both know our Y/N, and I do not think that is something she would do. Why do you get to treat her poorly because of it?” 

Shuri let out a groan and turned away from her brother, but T’Challa continued. 

“What it sounds like to me, little sister is that you are jealous that Y/N has moved on and has found someone else to spend her time with.”

Shuri sat there processing her brother's words. Jealous? She wasn’t jealous… Right? 

On the other side of the palace, Nakia had finally located you. 

“How did I know I would find you here?” The older woman looked up at you in the trees. Nakia guessed that this tree, the same one you would climb up as a child, is where you would be.

“Not too much has changed hmm.” You offered. 

“Oh but so much has.” Nakia mused with a smile as she started her ascent into the trees. 

“Be careful, your body is not as young as it used to be.” You warned her with a laugh, earning a gentle shove from her once she finally got herself situated. 

“Are you calling me old sisi (sister)?” 

“I am not calling you young.” Your laughter only increased at her shocked expression. 

“I leave for a few months and you start insulting your elders? You really are just like Shuri.” Nakia meant the comment to be funny, and a few years prior it would have been. But now the mention of the princess made the smile slowly fade from your face. 

This of course did not go unnoticed by Nakia, she brushed your shoulder with hers gently. “Talk to me about her.” 

You shook your head, “Nakia, there's nothing to say about her that I haven't already said. You heard it all.” 

“Then tell it to me again. Explain to me how two girls who I watched grow up like sisters, now cannot spend a minute together without fighting.” Nakia’s brown eyes bore into your own. She always had a way about her, this energy that encouraged you to spill what had been weighing on you. And especially up here, high above the palace looking out onto the rest of the Golden City, you felt the urge to open up for once. 

“I don’t know what I did to make her so upset with me.” The words came out of your mouth quietly. “It was like one minute she was my best friend and now she can hardly stand the sight of me. Everything I do is somehow wrong in her eyes.”

“You know that’s not how she really feels Y/N.” Nakia tried to reason with you. 

“As much as you and Mama keep saying that Nakia, I think you’re wrong.” You finally pulled your eyes away from her. “She is all upset that I’ve chosen to spend time with someone else but she was the one who decided she didn’t want to spend any time with me.” 

Nakia tucked a few stray curls behind your ear. “Do you want to know what I think sisi?” 

You made a sound of inquiry, encouraging Nakia to continue. 

“I think she regrets her decision.” 

You whipped your head to face Nakia. “Intoni (What)?” 

“I am being serious, I think Shuri regrets her decision about ending the friendship,” Nakia spoke matter of factly as if she had weighed out all the options in front of her and settled on that one. 

“Yeah, and what about her behavior is saying ‘I want Y/N back as a friend.’ to you?” The question came out more comical than you intended but you couldn’t help it, the idea Nakia was pushing was laughable. 

“You and I both know Shuri, so you and I both know the last thing she can do is admit when she’s wrong. Think back to when we were kids and she didn’t want to admit that it was her miscalculations that made the hair dye ‘semi permanent’ not ‘washable’ like she insisted it was.” The memory Nakia brought up had you laughing. 

You and Shuri couldn’t have been but thirteen when she insisted that her new project was a hundred percent safe and a hundred percent NOT permanent. That of course led to you both having matching bright purple streaks in your hair for two months. 

Seeing your smile again brought Nakia some peace, she hadn’t lost you to your mind's overthinking yet. “Shuri is just hard-headed. She does not know how to say she wants you back in her life, so she doubles down on her stance.” 

You pondered Nakia’s words, it was true that Shuri did seem to double down on her dislike of you in the past three weeks. Almost as if being in increased proximity to you was making her miss you and lash out in response. 

“Promise me something?” Nakia wrapped her arm around your shoulder bringing you into her. 

“I can’t promise something if I do not know what it is Nakia. What if you wanted me to promise that I’ll jump from this spot right now? That’s not a promise I would make.” You were only rambling to annoy Nakia at this point and she knew it. She brought her other hand to flick your forehead. 

“Hush. Just promise me that you won’t shut Shuri out completely?” The older woman looked down at you awaiting your answer. “I know this is hard for you, having to be with her constantly when she isn’t the Shuri we know. But, there will come a time when she is again and I want you two to be able to rebuild when that comes.” 

You inhaled deeply debating if this was something you could promise to. 

“I’m not asking for you to lay down and let her insult you, Shuri needs someone to keep her in check too.” That got a chuckle out of you. The Princess needed more than just someone to keep her in check, she needed a full attitude adjustment. “But I am just saying, I think the more time you two spend together the more she’ll come back around.” There was a glint in Nakia’s eyes when she spoke that you didn’t recognize. 

“Okay.” You agreed quietly. 

“Okay?” Nakia squeezed you tight. “I will take an okay, I was not even sure if you were going to let me get this far!” 

The two of you both laughed in unison, knowing that it was a rare occasion when you actually took someone's advice. Your laughter was interrupted by the chirp of Nakia’s kimoyo beads alerting her that she had an incoming call. 

“Oh it's Challa, let us see what he wants.” The call went through and a holographic picture of the prince popped out of the beads. “Molo (Hello), sthandwa sami (my love). Everything is well I assume?” 

T’Challa grinned back at Nakia. “Ewe, just like you said it would.” The two just gazed at each other through the phone for a moment before the King cleared his throat. “I was um calling to see if you’d be joining us for dinner tonight?” 

“Of course, I would not miss it for the world.” Nakia’s reply came quick and you could have sworn T’Challa’s smile doubled in size. 

The soft sound of Shuri’s voice interrupted the moment. “Is Y/N with you?” 

Nakia hesitated a moment, “Yes, she is.” 

“Is she uh- coming with us to dinner?” Shuri herself seemed unsure if she actually wanted to ask the question. Peeking out from behind her brother's shoulder, showing that they were both still sitting on the floor. 

Nakia looked over at you, trying to judge your body language. When she didn’t sense anything that seemed like you were against the idea she finally spoke. “Ewe, she will be joining us for dinner.” 

Shuri sat up from her slouched position, her tone sounding more joyus. “Really? So it will be me, you, T’Challa, Mother, and Y/N. Good.” When she finished speaking she felt the eyes of T’Challa and Nakia on her, now both bearing sickeningly wide smiles. Why were they looking at her like that? As if her response was something they could have predicted. It made the princess check her attitude, returning back to her unbothered demeanor. “It is good Y/N will be joining us, for work and everything.”

“Mhm, I think so too.” T’Challa followed up his sister, alleviating some of the attention from her to himself. “Just like old times.”

Taglist:  @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere @._mrqs @msudaku @lppriceisright @bratydoll @blackqueengold @iheartsolo @cafehyunji @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @ilroachsworld @locoforshuri

[lemmetreatya]

Rent-A-Boyfriend — Zeke Jaeger x fem!Reader

synopsis: You need — a boyfriend who can trick your friends into thinking your love life isn’t inept. You receive — Zeke Jaeger, a man who’d do pretty much anything for a bit of cash and a night out

warnings: none

“Heeeey, baby.”

With a saccharine smile, Zeke waltz into the small VIP section where you and your friends were currently sat.

Instantly you get up to greet him, the smile on your face wide, but the blonde didn’t give you a chance to greet him back.

“Ahh! Zeke, He—”

Unexpectedly, Zeke wields his arm behind you to grab a handful of your ass. You let out a squeak in retaliation as he uses the momentum to pull you closer so that he could land a hot kiss to your lips — as if the action just couldn’t wait until you were both within more private confinements.

In reaction, your girlfriends make various noises behind you; some of surprise and some of neutral judgment.

Once you pull away with a breathless sigh and wide open eyes, your hands automatically find their way to the plane of his chest.

“Well, hello to you too.” You finally cheese.

But alas, your smile matches his own, and you’re more than enamoured that’d he’d be this affectionate with you in public — just as you both planned.

From behind, you hear one of your friends speak up.

”So this be him, huh? Your ‘Zachary’ man?”

Both you and the blonde share a look.

Seeing as your back was to your friends you mouth a quick ‘sorry’ to him, but before you could retaliate, Zekes poking his head pass the side of you so that he could give your friend a pearly white practiced smile.

“Uh, well. Funnily enough, it’s actually short for Ezekiel?”

His tone wasn’t (that) condescending. If anything you think he was a tad bit too nice. But concerning how there was a dead stare from the other girls and not a lick of response, Zeke thought to back track his words.

“Buuuut I’ll take Zachary. Sure.”

The mood is still slightly stale, and you can hear some of the girls upwardly clear their throats. Internally you start to panic because God, were things really going wrong already?! However, being the perceptive man he was, Zeke notices your uneasy attitude and therefore tries his best to alleviate it.

"Hey. How about I get us some drinks, huh? Liven you girls up a bit. We all a fan of fun stuff?!"

A preppy chorus of 'yeah's, 'sures' and 'why nots' echo around the table, but it's you that Zeke looks down at for confirmation. With a thankful expression you nod in permit of his suggestion.

"Yeah, that sounds great, Zeke. Thank you."

Zeke buggers off towards the bar in order to get the shots whilst you easily welcome yourself back down at the table. But as soon as you sit, your friends hunch inwards with giddy expressions.

”You know, I’ve got to give it to you. I really thought you were lying out your ass when you said you had a man.”

A few of the other girls hum in agreeal but you can’t help but feel a twang taut at your heart. If only they really knew.

“Right! Now look at you, pulling all Mister Zack and shit!” Says another.

“It’s Zeke.” You find yourself saying.

The girl dismisses your comment as she rolls her eyes. You can only let out an awkward laugh before shuffling backwards into your booth seat.

Once Zeke comes back with several shots between his fingers balanced under two plates of limes, the table erupts with whoops.

“Alright!” He encourages.

The blonde places the drinks onto the table and your friends all take at one. Zeke takes two from the lot and hands you one of them.

“For you, mi lady.”

The limes are passed round and the tables buzzing at the sudden kindness of your newly met boyfriend. Seeing their happy faces made you pleased and so you easily leaned back to thank Zeke, your words sounding like a whisper over the pumping music.

“You didn’t have to get them the drinks.”

Rather than turning in your direction, Zeke’s eyes keep track of the lime plate that’s coming his way. His hand closest to you easily finds your thigh as he squeezes it in solidarity.

“It’s no problem. They looked like they needed to loosen up so I thought ‘why not?’”

An easy smile danced over your lips as you bumped your arm next to his.

“But still, thank you for buying them.”

“Oh. No, you needn’t thank me.” Zeke picks up a lime before passing you the last one. “It’s not like I brought the drinks with my own money, I just used your card that I slipped out your back pocket.”

A shock passes over you, so much so that you accidentally drop your lime into your lap.

“I—Wh, what?!”

“Bottoms up, ladies!” He suddenly shouts.

Zeke is quick to clink his shotglass against those of your friends. The other woman, unbeknownst to the information you just got landed with, cheer in accordance with the blonde man as they all take their shots. You back your drink with a delay, your mind still processing Zeke’s audacity.

The familiar fuzzy burn down your throat wasn’t comforting but it was enough to distract you from everything that’d been difficult so far.

Zeke makes a squeezed face at the sizzle of the lime before turning his head towards you, his lips only about ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“You should really mind what you put in your back pockets. Any sick fuck who’d happen to get their hands on this could really drain your account.” The blonde waves your bank card in your face before placing it on the table in front of you.

Whether he was being serious or not, you couldn’t tell but something about his words rubbed you the wrong way.

Your friends looked on with googly eyes, seemingly thinking that Zeke was saying something risqué in your ear. Not wanting to possibly give yourself away, you distract yourself by trying to smudge lime juice out of your jeans.

“And you should really mind who’s money you spend because who knows if they’ll end up plotting your demise?” You mumble.

Zeke only smirks reservedly. Despite being a heavyweight, it seems like the affects of the singular shot was already doing it’s work. You wonder if he pregamed?

“You wiiiiish.” He says teasingly with a low voice as his mouth finally latches onto the shell of your ear with a soft bite.

It didn’t hurt, but not expecting the action, you jumped away.

“What the hell?!” You screech below your breath.

Your girls jump along with you — clear confirmation that their eyes were on you both — but the pull away was too suspicious to explain. Not knowing what to say or do to try and lighten the situation, your hand tugs onto the sleeve of Zeke’s top.

“Uhh. Let’s…let’s dance. Let’s go dance.”

Giving you a credulous yet giddy look, the blonde’s eyes wash all over your body. Even whilst getting up his eyes are still on you, and part of you wonders how much of him being your date for tonight he was taking for granted.

“If you say so.” He snorts.

As you pull him by his arm, Zeke makes a damselly ‘oh!’ sound before he’s wiggling his eyebrows over at your friends and causing the lot of them to childishly woo. It only makes you scoff more as you pull him away from the group.

Squeezing between a few bodies, you plugged the both of you in a nice enough spot that meant you were still in view of your friends but not too squashed up against others.

The music pumps much louder over on this side of the venue and so you have to wince for awhile in order to adjust to the volume. However, once you do, you wrap your arms up around Zeke’s neck in gruff gesture.

Automatically, Zeke’s hands are on your waist and that sleazy smile of his is back on his face.

”Never took you for the dancing type?” He says into one of your ears and you have to force yourself not to roll your eyes.

“I’m not.”

At your words, Zeke’s hands start to rub against the small of your back. You subconsciously have to remember everything that could possibly be in your back pockets — not wanting to be a victim of theft a second time — but once you realise it’s just a lip balm, you relax a bit.

As he leans in closer, you could smell the light scent of alcohol that still clung to his tongue.

“Then why’d you pull me out here? Tryna get away from your girlypops?”

You lightly tread atop of the man’s toe. It was an accident but you definitely weren’t sorry.

“Shut up, Zeke.” You hiss. “This isn’t about them, this is about your behaviour.”

Zeke briefly pulls back to give you a credulous look, his hand briefly flying to his chest. If being a fake boyfriend wasn’t enough, he should definitely go into acting, you think.

“My behaviour? Oh no. Is my performance poor?”

“Poor? Not so much. Agitating? Entirely.” You mumble.

The both of you continue to dance tightly against each other. You’re sure anyone looking from the outside would think there was a passion between you both but you definitely know that wasn’t the case on your side of things.

With your mouth close to his ears, you bend him in forwards by the nape of his neck.

“In all truthfulness, Zeke, you’re pissing me off. I know you’re doing this as a favour, a help-out for one of your brother’s ‘little friends’, but you’ve got to take this seriously.”

Zeke sighs but simultaneously brings his hands down to hook over your ass.

“How much more serious about this do you want me to be? Because according to your girls, I’m doing a stellar job.”

With a comedic twist, Zeke turns round so that he could wave back to the table where your friend’s sat. All of them whooped and hollered in retaliation which only pissed you off even more.

Kneeing him brought his attention back to you.

“Ow!”

“Zeke, I’m being for real!” You seethe.

A scoff leaves the man’s throat but his hands are back on your ass and his cheek flat against your temple.

“And I don’t doubt that you aren’t, my love. But I think that’s the issue — you’re taking this too seriously.”

You know this relationship was supposed to be fake but you really believe this man was trying to fuck you over by being as overbearing as he could. You wriggle within his grasp, attempting to alleviate some space between you both but the blonde only squishes you against him more.

A loud groan leaves your mouth but Zeke playfully taps your ass to make sure you understood his heed.

“Come on, don’t be like this. If you continue being this anal your friends are gonna know somethings up so I suggest you keep your cool and act the part.”

Another groan left your mouth but because you had somewhat accepted that the man was speaking facts.

After all, you hired Zeke on the basis that you’d be able to convince your friends your love life wasn’t as bad as they made it out to be. The last thing you wanted was them pairing you up on blind dates again with the many incompatible options they thought would suit you.

With resignation, your body intensity relaxed into Zeke’s embrace. The man was able to feel you give in before you said it.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.”

You could feel the vibrate of the hum Zeke made through his chest so you knew he was appeased with his slight win over you. But you couldn’t let him have that — you needed him to know he still wasn’t doing everything right.

“Also, you don’t have to use petnames when it’s just the two of us.”

“I know.” He smugly chirps.

And you sigh because even though you can’t see his face, you could only guess the one he had on.

Surprisingly to you, Zeke does fix up for the rest of the night. Well, sort of.

He doesn’t spend anymore of your money or steals your card. He does at one stage brazenly ask if you could buy him a bowl of peanuts but you give him a look that ceases his ask.

He steals your lip balm. Which, actually, you weren’t too annoyed about because he only did so once you’d told him his lips were unbelievably dry after he tried to kiss your neck.

Apart from those various things, Zeke was fine. The night had gone reasonably smooth and best of all — your friends had brought the schtick!

“Alright, boo. Make sure you get home safe, okay?”

Your friend kisses both of your cheeks with excessive mwahs. She wordlessly pats Zeke on the shoulder before getting into the uber that had just arrived. You make a small finger-to-palm gestures to her in order to bid her farewell. Zeke only nods.

Your other friends wave as they pile into the uber, a chorus of ‘byes’ singing throughout the night.

“I’ll text you when we get in.” Another friend gives you a side hug before blowing a kiss as walks to the passenger side of the uber seat. Whilst in transit, she waves to Zeke.

“It was nice meeting you, Zake!” She shouts before getting into the car.

Both you and Zeke play the part as you wave at the uber. Smiles wide as you watch the car pull off and around the corner. Once it’s out of sight, your acts are dropped and you both turn to each other in seriousness.

As you dig into your purse, Zeke’s already got a cigarette in his mouth as he brings the lighter to his face.

“A hundred, right?”

Zeke nods.

You count the money to the side, although you already know you had the right amount since you checked it before you left home. Once you counted it thrice, you reluctantly hand the money in Zeke’s direction.

Before you could even think about reconsidering the amount, the blonde snags the wad from you without thanks. He gingerly counts the amount in front of you, cigarette lodged between his lips as he focuses on the value of the money.

With a sigh, you defensively shrug your shoulders.

“What, you don’t trust my counting?”

Zeke makes a weird noise before ticking his head to the side and sucking in a sharp breath.

“Can’t lie, for what I had to put up with tonight? You’re gonna have to add in an extra forty.”

“An extra forty?!” You almost screech. “For what?!”

Zeke glances at you before looking upwards towards the night sky. A small hum leaves his throat in contemplation before he removes the cigarette from his mouth and looks back down at you again.

“I’ve been called everything but my actual name tonight. You know that kinda stuff can cause identity dysmorphia, right?”

It was so obvious he was pulling that out of his ass. And considering how he’d been spending your money tonight, you’re surprised at the sheer audacity of his ask.

“But how is that my fault? It’s them who couldn’t get it right, not me.”

Shaking his head, Zeke folds his arms over his chest. He takes a puff of his cigarette through the side of his mouth, all without the use of his hands.

“Pretty sure you wouldn’t wanna see me wound up dead on national TV with your name written all over my confessional journals and have forensics blame you for the cause of my death, would you?”

You’re too stunned to reply and so Zeke continues talking, his attitude lazily nonchalant as the cigarette dangled from his lips.

“Don’t think that’d look too good on you concerning you just introduced me to your friends—”

With a frantic gesture, you’re dipping your hands into your purse.

“Okay, okay! Fuck!”

Slapping the crumpled notes onto his chest, you huff before turning your back to him. You don’t walk far but you circle the small space of the pavement outside of the club. You wanted anything but to be in his presence right now.

“Who knew you were such a fucking cheap sket?” You mumble, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“I’m literally a Jaeger, what more did you expect?” He replies as he stuffs the notes into his back pocket.

And in all honesty, you find yourself not being able to disagree with him because he had a point.

Seeing you were unresponsive, Zeke shrugs. At the end of the day, he’s done his job and gotten his pay — his work here was done. Patting himself down and dropping his cigarette to the floor, Zeke clicks his teeth at you.

“Alright. Well, it was good doing business with you, my love. We should toats do this again sometime.”

You turn back to him with one last look although your stubbornness prohibits you from entertaining him for long. But Zeke knows you’re only being prissy.

With a roll of his eyes, the man opens one of his arms for you to beckon to. He however doesn’t move from his spot.

“Don’t gimme that face, C’mere.” He says softly and you realise it’s the nicest he’s been all night.

You pout, still wanting to be stubborn, but it’s the way Zeke’s glasses glow underneath the streetlamps glow and the way his arm looks so inviting that pushes you to move back to him.

Your arms are folded but slowly you lean yourself into Zeke’s embrace.

As you lay your head onto his shoulder the blonde wraps his arm around your frame, before he bends down to plant a dry kiss to your temple. It’s the most platonic gesture he’s made all night but surprisingly it doesn’t make you think he’s all that bad. He smells heavy of ash smoke.

“I’ll see you around?” He says after awhile. You don’t miss how his hand squeezes your arm.

“Mm.”

You pull back from his embrace but you’re unable to look him in the eye as he unlocks his car to then get in. You stand on the pavement, watching him buckle himself in and start up the engine. And you think that’s the last he has to say to you — that is, until he rolls down his window and hangs his arm out it.

“Oh! Before I forget.”

There in his hands, Zeke waves at you a small lip balm tube. Your lip balm.

Instantly your hands fly to your back pocket and unsurprisingly, it’s empty. You give Zeke a crooked look but the man’s already throwing it for you to catch.

“I told ya! Mind what you put in your back pockets!”

Just as you catch the lip balm with several juggles, Zekes already speeding off down the road, leaving you alone on the roadside.

[honourablejester]

D&D 5e Character Concept: Sly Sorcerous ‘Cleric’

I’ve been watching a couple of campaigns based around the idea of a theological war against magic, divine vs arcane magic, and divine magic winning. Settings with a hugely powerful central church, where arcane magic is dangerous and endangered. All of which naturally made me think about Divine Soul Sorcerers, who could maybe cheat and try to blend in with their ‘holy’ magic. So. A character concept for that sort of campaign setting?

Arjhan Jharthraxyn, Bishop of Lyyle

A handsome, bearded silver dragonborn, quite tall, and dressed with the restrained elegance of a well-to-do cleric, Arjhan Jharthraxyn, Bishop of Lyyle, smiles politely, and gestures with a ringed hand in welcome.

Bishop. The thing with sorcerers, see, is charisma. A Cha-based class. So silver-tongued. Silver-tongued enough to not only pretend to be a priest, but to climb the ecclesiastical ladder in the process. Is that wise? Oh, absolutely not. But if you’re good at something, be good at something, and why not be richer and more powerful doing it? And Arjhan is such an excellent liar. He was a desperate child born into desperate times, destined to be killed for what he was, but necessity is the mother of audacity, after all. Is that not the saying? He joined the church, the very one that wanted to kill him, as a ‘miracle worker’, and lied through his teeth all the way up to the episcopal seat. If someone catches him now, oh, he’s worse than dead, but for that someone must catch him. And he intends to make that rather difficult.

Because Charisma, see. And I do want to lean into that. I want him to have the necessary skills, Deception, Persuasion, Insight, and I want him to be good at them. So I kind of want to take a level of rogue on him? Purely for the Expertise (okay, and armour proficiency). Deception expertise, Insight expertise. I considered Bard, but they take 3 levels to get it, and yes they also keep spell slot progression and get some interesting extra spells from a bard level, but I’m not looking to go that deep in when all I want is expertise. So. A level of rogue. And I think I might also want the Skill Expert feat later too, throw some Perception expertise in as well. This is one paranoid, deceitful boy, and he doesn’t want to be caught on the hop.

For background, to simulate a bishop, I’m going to mash together the Acolyte and Courtier backgrounds, take the skills (and a lot of the equipment) from Acolyte and the Court Functionary feature from Courtier so Arjhan knows how courts (and likely the church itself as well) work.

For race, I wanted either a white or a silver dragonborn, purely so he could be snidely called a ‘cold son of a bitch’ and have it be entirely literal as well as entirely accurate. Heh. I went with the silver over the white because it fits the ‘holy’ image better, and also metallic dragonborn (as of Fizban’s) get some fun extra breath weapons later on. A cone of incapacitation and/or a cone of ‘knock a crowd the fuck away from me’ seem like things a paranoid bishop might want, for those instances where someone tries to assassinate him in the middle of mass or what have you. Also, again, silver-tongued. A silver-tongued silver dragonborn. Heh.

I want him to be cynical, self-serving, a bit flamboyant. Paranoid, determined to survive and to prosper in spite of everyone around him. A cold son of a bitch. But in terms of his spells …

He had to pretend to be a miracle worker. He had to hide his more arcane leanings. So we’re going to lean a bit on the cleric side of his spell list, pick up Cure Wounds, Lesser Restoration, Guiding Bolt, Light. He had to look holy. The sorcerer side was dedicated to survival, stealth, how to get the fuck out of dodge if everything went tits up abruptly. Shield, Misty Step, Invisibility. But they were hidden, not used in public. His public magic is holy. And he sort of …

He's a cynical, self-serving son of a bitch. But he has the power to heal. And it’s the part of his power that he can use freely. I think that maybe has an impact on him. Not altruism, let’s not read into things here, but sure. He can heal some people on occasion. Kneejerk. By instinct. What of it?

I think I’m going to give him distant spell and subtle spell as his initial metamagics. I don’t think he needs quicken spell, he’s not about attacking, he’s about hit-and-run-the-fuck-away, and Misty Spell has that covered for bonus actions. He needs subtle spell, he’s all about not being caught spellcasting. And I want to give him distant spell because it lets him deploy Cure Wounds and Lesser Restoration (and Invisibility, if he feels like helping someone else get out of dodge) at a distance. Why did he need, choose, to be better at that? Shh. Don’t ask awkward questions.

Maybe not everyone he knew growing up was as fortunate as he was when it came to being able to ‘hide’, disguise themselves, blend in. And it’s everyone for themselves, absolutely do not get him wrong, but … I mean, if an opportunity presents itself to maybe give someone a (surreptitious, extremely well disguised) helping hand, well. Does no harm, does it?

Until it does, of course. But you’ve got to understand, you see, that the game only lasts until it ends. You don’t live your life with the sword of Damocles perpetually over your head without developing a certain amount of fatalism. The game lasts until it ends. You run until they catch you, because they will catch you. What matters is how far you get, and how much you get, how much of everything they wanted to deny you, before that happens.

Wouldn’t it be funny, if he climbed all the way to the top of an organisation that wanted to kill him? Wouldn’t that be just perfectly, bleakly amusing? Let’s try, hmm? Let’s see how far we get before we mis-step.

(What is a bishop doing out adventuring? But I’m imagining him in a more social, cloak-and-dagger sort of campaign, less dungeon delving and more trying to break the power of a cruel church)

Yeah. I’m enjoying this set-up. I think I like him. Arjhan Jharthraxyn. Lying, cheating sorcerous bishop of a church he most decidedly does not believe in. Prince with a thousand enemies. They’ll kill you if they catch you. But first they must catch you. Heh.

[jplupine]

Day 3: Gin Ichimaru ~ Public

Pairing: Gin Ichimaru x Wynter Hughes [Nonbinary OC] Word Count: ~1.3k Date Published: October 3, 2023 WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Dom!Gin, Human!Gin, Size Difference, Established Relationship, Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Brat!Wynter, Some Praise + Degradation, Creampie Note: Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used. Gin also uses terms like 'sweetheart' and 'pet' to refer to Wynter. If that makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this fic.

Summary: Gin cashes in his 1 Free Request coupon for something Wynter never expected.

You can also read it on AO3!

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

  I knew I should've worn shorts under this skirt. That, or I at least should've worn my regular boots instead of these taller ones. Or perhaps I just shouldn't have agreed to go out with Gin at all.

  He had me trapped in his arms in front of the train's closed doors, making it look to others as if we were any other couple cuddling and waiting for our stop. But in reality, he was a fucking demon pressing his fingers between my thighs through the skirt while rocking his hips in time with the train's swaying to hide how he was thrusting his cock deep into me. His head was leaning against mine as he hummed with delight and whispered filth in my ear.

  The slow, agonizing pace was torture as I felt each inch that slid out go right back in. Gin had taken full advantage of how my boots put me at the perfect height for him to do this, and me not wearing shorts under the skirt meant he only had to push my underwear to the side to gain access. The only thing I was grateful for was my hat that covered my red face just by tilting my head down.

  "Better keep quiet. You don't want anyone to know, do you?" Gin cooed next to my ear.

  "Screw you." My voice was breathy before I bit my bottom lip to silence a moan as his fingers pressed harder. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at me.

  "Play nice, Wynter. Don't make me give you a spanking in front of everyone here." He sweetly kissed my cheek, and my grip on the pole in front of me tightened. Gin's thrusts remained shallow; a few inches out, a few inches in. Nothing more, nothing less.

  The man was perceptive and aware of his surroundings enough to know where the line was between getting caught and no one being the wiser. And he played right on the edge of that line.

  The zipper of his jeans was rough against my ass, and my thighs felt slick as they pressed together. The train rattled, and Gin used that as his opportunity to snap his hips into me. I took in a sharp breath, and my knuckles were turning white from my firm grip.

  "I wonder if I can get you to cum before we reach our stop." He whispered as his lips brushed against my ear. A shiver ran up my spine, and I tried to steady my breathing. "It's taking so much of my self-control not to bend you over the divider."

  "Don't you dare." I hissed, and he chuckled before kissing the shell of my ear.

  "I won't, sweetheart. I'm having too much fun with this." Gin circled his fingers over my clit through my skirt and underwear while leaving his other hand in a relaxed position over it to hide his debauchery from view. "Mmm. I like watching you struggle to contain yourself." His warm breath rolled over my skin, and I clenched my jaw.

  I never thought I'd be doing something like this, but after one regrettably vague birthday coupon and seeing hardly anyone else in the train car, Gin had convinced me to fulfill his wish. I hadn't even known this was a fantasy of his until he cashed in the '1 Free Request' coupon at the station. I also knew if he hadn't been distracting me by speaking in my ear, I would've bowed out long ago and told him to shove it because of the anxiety.

  "I love how you're always so wet from my touch. It makes this so much easier." Gin acted as if he was casually shifting his weight on his feet but was actually pushing his cock deeper. I grunted through clenched teeth while feeling so utterly full.

  "Once I can actually get my hands on you...." I trailed off as Gin kissed the side of my neck.

  "What? You'll punish me?" He had a teasing tone while smiling. "Please do." Even just thinking of what I'd do to him later made me wetter. He was a bastard but, oh, such a pretty one. Making his fox-like smile twist with pleasure as I left him a mess was something I indulged in, but right now was all about fulfilling his request.

  His slow thrusting was barely more than cock warming, but his fingers and words working in unison just might get me to cum like he wanted. My thighs twitched as my jaw clenched again.

  "You're doing so good for me, pet." Gin's voice dropped to that tone he knew drove me wild that was almost like a purr. He then grunted from me clenching around his cock. "Mmm, you're amazing." His breath fanned over the side of my neck as it faltered.

  My heart was pounding, and a stop was announced before the train began to slow. I heard a hiss as the doors slid open, and Gin was absolutely still now with people leaving the car.

  "Our stop is next." I muttered while keeping my head down.

  "That's plenty of time." He sounded so certain, and as the train doors were closing, I realized we were the last two in the car. Gin didn't even wait until we left the station to start snapping his hips.

  "Fuck~!" I hissed and had to grab the pole with both hands. The slow drag of his cock as he pulled out several inches only to snap back in with such force had my thighs shivering. "G-Gin!"

  "What is it, darling? Are your legs getting tired?" He questioned as if he wasn't fucking me while still holding me close to his chest.

  "S-Someone in the other car might see." I grunted as my toes curled in my boots.

  "Then I guess you shouldn't bring attention to us, huh?" He kissed the side of my neck and grabbed my hip while sliding his other hand under my skirt. "Spread your feet just a little bit." Gin panted, and I did as told. "That's it. So good~." He purred and managed to get his fingers between my thighs.

  I was falling apart and struggling to keep quiet. Gin was less concerned about being heard and groaned into my skin. His grip on my hip tightened, and each thrust brought us closer to the edge.

  "You're so good to me." Gin panted after his forehead dropped to rest on my shoulder. "J-Just a bit more." His fingers pressed a little harder, and I bit my lip as my back arched.

  My moans were muffled as I peaked and clenched around Gin. The built-up tension washed away in the flood of my orgasm, and I forgot where we were for a second.

  "Oh, fuuuck~!" Gin groaned while pulling me closer and pistoning his cock into me while prolonging my orgasm. It was almost too much, and he finally thrust in to the hilt to cum.

  And then our stop was announced.

  "Shit!" I hissed as we rushed to hide what we'd been doing. Gin quickly pulled out and tucked his dick back into his pants while I straightened out my skirt and underwear. To add to my embarrassment, I could feel his cum already leaking out and into my underwear.

  By the time the doors opened, Gin looked as if nothing had happened as he took my hand in his and led the way out and onto the station platform.

  "I need to find a bathroom. You should've used a condom." I whispered, and Gin only smiled as his pale eyes looked down at me.

  "Hm. No."

  "What?"

  "We're almost home. I'll clean it up myself then. It is my mess after all." Gin purred while hungrily licking his lips, and I felt excitement twist in my gut.

[thebettybook]

Leona character headcanons pt 2

🍓: My Pt 1 post is here

🍓: Again, I can’t sleep so here’s another post of my Leona character headcanons + analysis (I’ve also had this in drafts for a few weeks now lol)

🦁 During the first Halloween event in TWST EN this year with the Magicam Monsters, some of the NRC visitors recognized Leona as the Magift player they saw on TV, and not as a prince of Afterglow Savannah. Like, throughout the whole Magicam Monster fiasco, none of the Magicam Monsters recognized Leona as a prince (because if they did, they’d probably take pics or videos of him for clout). This makes me think that Leona probably doesn’t join his family much for royal engagements, or he just chooses to not go to public events as a member of the Kingscholar royal family a lot (if at all).

🦁 But also…I wonder if Leona feels that it’s nice people recognize him as a Magift player and not as a prince. Because all his life back home, he was regarded as the second prince who could harm anything and anyone with his Unique Magic. And here at Sage Island/NRC, he’s recognized for his prowess and talent in Magift.

🦁 Everytime Leona comes home for break or a holiday, Cheka would barge into his room with a plushie in hand at night and sleep next to him. The cub got his own room ever since he turned five, but hates it because he doesn’t like being a big room all alone.

🦁 Anyways, Leona always tries to get Cheka to go back to his own room by saying “Y’know that if you don’t sleep in your own room like a good cub, a monster will come out of your closet to scare ya” (a reference to Monsters, Inc. hehe). However, this tactic doesn’t work on Cheka; it only makes the cub more scared at the thought of a monster in his closet and cling onto Leona.

🦁 So Leona always has to double—no, triple check that there aren’t any monsters in Cheka’s room every night by looking under Cheka’s bed and in his closet (fun headcanon, Cheka’s current room was the one Leona had as a kid). Even if Leona does make a show of checking that there aren’t any monsters, Cheka refuses to leave his side.

🦁 Leona’s not an extravagant gift giver, but he’s a good gift giver. He’s not the type to buy someone a random gift without the person’s interests in mind assuming that they’ll just like it because “it’s the thought that counts” or “it could be useful.” He’s perceptive of people’s likes, dislikes, and interests.

🦁 Adding onto the point above, I thought about the Camp Vargas event and how Leona gave Ruggie his credit card to buy clothes for the two of them for the camp. We could assume Leona doesn’t worry or care about money since he’s royalty and thus from a rich family, but Leona is also really smart and analytical. He may not be economically shrewd like Azul or good with money like Ruggie, but Leona isn’t so privileged or out of touch with reality to the point where he’s apathetic to the value of money.

🦁 After all, Leona basically trained and taught himself the qualities and knowledge of a king. One of the qualities a ruler of a country has to have is to be knowledgeable and smart about money/currency, which shapes the present and future of a country.

🦁 Thus, during the Camp Vargas event, I’d say Leona kind of gifted Ruggie new clothes when he gave Ruggie his credit card to buy clothes for the two of them. This may be me reaching, because Leona probably just needed clothes and Ruggie did too, BUT if Leona didn’t care, he’d tell Ruggie to buy his own outdoor wear with his own finances.

🦁 Leona was also probably aware that the designer outerwear Ruggie bought for himself and Leona were pricy (which again, is probably not an issue for Leona), BUT if Leona didn’t care about Ruggie to some degree, Leona wouldn’t have let Ruggie use his credit card for Ruggie’s clothes. Because usually, we’ve only seen or heard of Ruggie buying stuff for only Leona using Leona’s credit card.

🦁 And during the Halloween event, Leona and Ruggie went to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop to buy refreshments for the Savanaclaw members who were working at their stamp tour spot. This was Leona’s idea. Ruggie even asked Leona “Why can’t you admit that you care?”.

🦁 All in all, Leona cares about his underclassmen, his Savanaclaw members, and his family, even if he doesn’t show it outright. He’s a generous and perceptive person, which makes him a good gift giver.

🦁 Leona doesn’t use social media much, if at all. He’s not like Malleus where he’s completely clueless about technology and social media, but Leona just doesn’t see the point of social media. He’s not into customizing his phone either with wallpaper or widgets suited to his interests (does he even have a favorite color??).

🦁 If he has a Magicam, it’s private with no profile pic and with less than ten followers. He only uses Magicam to follow collector chess board accounts, and for the occasional cute cat or kitten videos (they’re cute, ok?).

🦁 Leona, being the uncle that he is (yes he’s a young uncle, but still an uncle), also isn’t too familiar with social media slang. Ruggie texted him once “brb” when doing an errand and Leona asked out loud “What the hell does ‘brb’ mean?” A Savanaclaw member who happened to be there incorrectly told Leona “brb” stands for “birb”, which is a cute way to say “bird.” Leona wondered for a sec if Ruggie found a bird on his way doing errands and captured the bird for lunch or something.

🦁 Pfft I just realized in the far, far future when Cheka has kids someday (say in like twenty-thirty years from now), Cheka’s kids will call Leona “Gruncle” Leona, like how Mabel and Dipper from the show Gravity Falls call their great uncle “Gruncle” Stan.

🦁 During the second Halloween event in TWST EN in the Spectral Realm, Leona was ready to sing “Be Prepared” to Ace. It seems like “Be Prepared” was a song Leona loved as a kid since he always asked his caretakers to sing that song for him instead of “It’s a Small World.”

🦁 I love to think that Leona still sings “Be Prepared” sometimes when he takes a shower, and that’s the only time he’ll sing because he doesn’t like people hearing him sing.

🦁 I don’t think he’s a bad singer, he’s probably an average singer who gets really fired up and passionate when singing lyrics he relates to.

🦁 He doesn’t seem like the type that would enjoy or seek out musicals or rom-com shows and movies (unless his sister-in-law made him watch it with her).

🦁 Leona strikes me as the type of person to watch sports games or even like those game shows like Jeopardy! because he likes figuring out the answers before the contestants on screen can.

🦁 Cheka makes Leona watch cartoons with him when Leona comes home for break, and all those cartoon theme songs are stuck in Leona’s head.

🦁 More of a Cheka headcanon but the cub has a little calendar given to him by his parents so that he can learn how to read and use a calendar, but the cub only uses it to cross out with crayon the days until Leona comes home :’).

🦁 Last headcanon for now but isn’t it interesting that for Leona’s Dorm Uniform SSR card (arguably his main card), his powers are Flora??? Which really contrasts with his Unique Magic “King’s Roar.”

🦁 It makes me think that Leona might’ve spent a lot of time throughout his childhood or early teen years honing his flora magic to prove to people back home that he was so much more than his Unique Magic “King’s Roar,” but people still feared him.

🦁 Leona deserves so much love 😭💖

[meowstix]

today on "rat will not shut the fuck up about the bega arc"! i need to hit volkov with a steel chair

ok so i've been thinking about this scene for a while. because well look at it like oh my GODDD this guy. bro dropped an entire monologue about how sorry he is (which as we find out is bullshit) on this kid.. i hate this guy so much this scene is great.

and like. the other day. i had a realization. because like, when yuriy shows up, volkov is a LOT more outwardly antagonistic towards him. while obviously from an out of universe perspective this is the point where it's made clear that he still sucks ass, i think there's a couple ways you can view it (though i mean, it's probably a mix of the two), both of which i think are really interesting.

the first is the fact that if there's anyone who could see through volkov's bullshit, it's yuriy. there's no need to bother with the facade here. the second is the fact that like.. yuriy, bryan, and sergey tried to take on bega by themselves and well, look at how that turned out. the world champion is one thing, but yuriy can't do shit. he's nowhere near the level of the justice 5, and he doesn't really have the presence needed to damage bega's reputation.

i've talked about the theme of public perception and how it can be manipulated in g-rev, and that's what makes volkov such a great villain here. bsb's villains as a whole very much Not bladers but with g-rev volkov i feel like it's a step beyond that. it's about social power, it's about influence, it's about turning the world to his side.

then they totally ditched that angle but shhhhh i'm pretending i don't see that rn

[thatonebirdwrites]

Curiosity, Creativity, Compassion, and Cooperation are the 4 C’s of human nature. A fifth C is the darker side of our nature: Control. -- TheBirdWrites

I think about the 5 C's of human nature, and how our current society obsesses over the last one to the detriment of all others.

Control over environment -- despite the fact that 'ownership' and 'productive' approach to control is killing our environment and rapidly making the earth less habitable for life; control over Future Success-- the mythological and untrue idea that we can 'pull ourselves up by our bootstraps' and grab control of our future and make it big, despite capitalist society specifically being set-up to prevent the vast majority of people from ever seeing wealth; control over our lives -- despite the fact that rugged individualism does not actually give us control but instead it alienates us from community and breaks down bonds of connection; control of government and resources -- predominantly held by the very rich and corporations due to the amount of dark money and deals the public never sees that pushes bad (or no) regulations that would protect the public from abuses; control over our data -- where all aspects of our online life is mined for profits by corporations and privacy is treated like a commodity rather than a right.

That's the tip of the iceberg.

Society didn't used to be all about control either, considering there was a shit ton of alternate ways to life throughout the world. Western Imperialism has tried hard to exert control over through acts of genocide, terror, and enslavement.

Building a society on the other 4 C's is very much needed.

And I think that's what our problem is -- creativity, curiosity, compassion, and cooperation all involve some level of imagination. We need to visualize the world we want and then transform that vision into the current reality. We do this through the bonds we create, the art we make, the structures we build, and by tearing down harmful societal structures that try to control our every move.

I think about this a lot.

In Ways of Learning essay, I wrote about the above's impact on education and our societal imagination and thinking patterns.

As conscious human beings, we are not passive wells for a teacher to fill (just as children are not blank slates for parents, teachers, society to write upon). We have the ability to think beyond what we are told, but if we continuously receive the message to blindly obey what society tries to dump into our minds, then we can become trapped in oppressor’s domination webs. Many authoritarian groups and leaders abhor education and books that present an alternative view because it often induces critical thinking. Education and what we read or discuss with others can give us new language to explore our reality, our environments, and our relations with others. In order to maintain power over us, the oppressor needs to limit our language, knowledge, and ways of being. Thus, the rigid control of education and societal narratives. The teacher must be the one to teach, to hold power over the student, while the student exists as a receptical and absorbs the narrative given to them. Critical thinking cannot exist in the ‘banking method’ because the moment questions arise to critically examine the given narrative is the moment the fragile veil masking reality shatters, and reality ceases to be the carefully constructed fiction of the oppressor.

This social control over education requires what Paulo Freire called the 'banking method' of education.

The object of study can range from an multitude of objects within our universe to an infinite amount of ideas. To think critically, we must be open and willing to engage in dialogue and seek understanding between the thoughts, actions, and perceptions of others. Freire describes this examination of the object or idea as an act if cognition, which is an active act. He contrasts it with the “banking method’s” approach, where students must be passively absorbing what another tells them. The students do not utilize their cognition to memorize another’s words. The need to question the truth of the teacher’s narrative is discouraged. To become an active agent in one’s education requires acts of cognition. Quoted above, Freire describes how that works between students and each other and the teacher. They contemplate, critically examine, reflect, and work together toward understanding. This is not an passive act but an active one.

Indoctrinating people into the current societal apparatus demands us to be passive receptacles, to not ask questions, to not be curious, and to not work cooperatively unless it furthers the non-thinking cogs for the capitalism machine. A lot of schools fall under that 'banking method' that seeks to control the narrative and what we learn, while diminishes the other four aspects of humanity.

Schools that do not seek to control, but instead work cooperatively with one another to indulge our curiosity and creativity and compassion -- definitely exist and bolster critical thinking skills. Non-Western educational practices often fell under this problem-solving-cooperative approach to education. We can go back to that.

This is why fascists love to burn books, and why they rewrite history to further their harmful ideology. They exert control of the narrative in order to stay in control of society itself.

By thinking critically, by learning how to work cooperatively, by engaging in our curiosity and creativity, we end up as rebels against the prevailing social norms. We end up fighting back against those that seek to control our lives, our minds, our imagination.

Society is a social construct. Our current world is not inevitable. It is not the only way for society to exist either.

Other worlds are possible.

We need to rescue our imagination from these capitalist fascists, indulge our curiosity and creativity, and work cooperatively to dismantle the harmful systems and replace with something better.

We ought to have networks of mutual aid in our towns, where we work together to share food, items, housing, basic resources, and so forth with one another. We have the resources for no one to be left out, but it's not being distributed or managed effectively. Instead, much of what is produced is made to break or rot before it ever reaches us.

We need to create mending and repair libraries to help us keep our current resources working and not contribute to the growing wastes of consumerism.

We need to create a library of things so people can check out random items they may need for specific projects, which they then can return to the library when finished.

Andrewism does an excellent video on this library idea:

We also need to act. It's not enough to envision this future; we need to make it a reality in our present moment.

Some places are working on these sorts of projects. (There's mutual aid groups, repair/mending libraries, and so forth popping up all over. They need more support.)

The fascists fear our imagination and the power in our cooperative creativity because they know if we do work together to imagine and build a better future, it will push the fascists out of control. The fascists will no longer be able to exploit and harm us, and they fear that. That's why they've been pushing so hard lately to institute horror shows like Project 2025. They want to control society so they can continue to exploit us all for profits.

I think about this a lot. And I think it's something us humans need to remember.

Our Curiosity, Creativity, Compassion, and Cooperation skills and talents are integral to who we are as a species. We are powerful when we work together to create what we cooperatively imagined.

Hope you all enjoyed. I'm hazy today, so I didn't really clean this up into a suitable essay. It's just a hodgepodge of ideas that I think about regularly.

[chaotic-super]

Live With Me - Chapter 14

Read Live With Me on AO3 here!

“I’m starting to regret saying that we shouldn’t get another security team.” Kara peeks out of the gap she’s made between the shut curtains, just a tiny sliver of space she’s made that’s just wide enough for one eye so she doesn’t get seen from outside.

Lena scoots up behind her, wrapping her arms around her middle and easing her back away from the window. The curtains drop easily back into place when Kara is no longer in reach of them and with the drop of the fabric, Kara relaxes into Lena's safe hold.

A kiss is pressed behind Kara’s ear. “We’re safe here, Kara. Do you really think that a security system made by me could be anything other than foolproof? I designed it to keep you safe and it will do exactly that.”

“Well, since I know you and your hatred of designing anything that is less than perfect, I know that it’s good, besides, it’s been up a little while now and we’ve yet to get murdered in our own home so I’ll say it works pretty well. I wish you’d added a feature that would shoot water at nosy reporters refusing to leave our front gate.” Kara turns in Lena’s arms. “Since we named her Hope, we could have her say a catchphrase as she does it.”

Lena grimaces at the thought of turning her high-tech security system into a water pistol although it would be kind of funny. “Ok, so firstly, you named her that, not me, and secondly, what catchphrase are you thinking.”

“We hope you have a great day!” Kara jauntily replies before falling into a fit of giggles, leaning into Lena as she tries to catch her breath between laughs.

Lena tries not to smile, she really does, but Kara’s being all cute and giggly for the first time in a while because the situation has been so dire and it’s nice to see her back to her old self, the one that doesn’t have to worry about government schemes and assassination attempts. “You’re really cute.”

Kara’s giggles slow but don’t stop, her head ducking and her cheeks flushing red with the unexpected compliment. It’s not the words that take her by surprise, Lena’s called her cute a thousand times before, and while it always makes her a little bashful, the way Lena said it just now, it was so earnest and filled with a fondness with such intensity that it makes Kara feel like Lena’s looking at her like she’s the only woman in the planet.

She lifts her head a moment later, exposing her pretty blush to Lena, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lena tucks Kara’s hair behind her ear and out of her face from where it was obstructing her view. She could leave the curtains closed forever if she needs to because this right here is one that she will never tire of looking at. “Now, how about we go and make some breakfast and after we eat, we can get in touch with the gang at CatCo and see where we’re up to with public perceptions?”

Kara nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.” She doesn’t mention that it’s the breakfast part that sounds good rather than the calling up the others part but she knows that has to be done even if she doesn’t really want to know about all of the people trashing her and calling her a liar.

Lena smiles at her softly, running her hands down her arms until she finds her hands and then lacing them with her own so she can pull her towards the bedroom door. “I’m feeling pancakes, what do you think?”

Kara might not be looking forward to what is going to happen later but she can certainly live in the moment for now when pancakes are involved. “I think that you might be the most perfect human I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because I am, darling.” Lena teases, pulling her closer to her side and wrapping a hand around her waist.

Kara would usually roll her eyes when Lena gets into this mood but when there’s a whole lot of bad stuff going on in her life, she’s got to take the good as it comes and there’s one thing that’s been consistently good throughout the whole mess they have been through and that’s Lena so even when she’s being a little bit annoying, Kara’s willing to look past it and see her charm instead. “Whatever you say, baby.”

Lena pushes her hip into Kara’s softly in response, the arm she’s got wrapped around her waist stopping her from stumbling too far and the melodic giggles she gets in response shaping up her day to be a good one, no matter what happens later on.

-

Kara has pretty much become one with the couch at this point, her entire body being cradled by the cushions and then hidden by the blanket she tugged from its usual spot of being thrown over the back of the couch.

Lena comes wandering in with a mug of coffee in each hand. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Lena lifts Kara’s legs from where they are spread across the entire expanse of the couch and slides beneath them, settling them in her lap once she’s firmly seated. “It’s not all bad news, you know.”

“I know.” Kara sighs. “I don’t mean to be a downer, especially after we had a nice morning, I just…it would be easier if we could get to CatCo to help the others but we can’t even get out of our own driveway. It just sucks.”

“It does but even Cat said that it doesn’t really matter because there’s not much we can do there anyway. The best thing we can do is just lay low. We probably should have done that yesterday, after all, if we hadn’t gone out then we wouldn’t have gotten tailed home and we wouldn’t have a gazillion reporters outside our house.”

“Sorry about that.”

Lena just shrugs. “Not your fault. I agreed to it too. It just is what it is.”

Kara frowns. “So, what do we do now?”

Lena leans over to the coffee table and grabs the TV remote. “You work too hard for your own good, take some time to relax and catch up with some of the shows you’ve been meaning to watch for forever. I have to do some work so unfortunately, I can’t watch with you but I’m just going to work at the dining table so I’m not too far anyway.”

Kara sucks her lips into her mouth mindlessly as she thinks, her head tilting just a fraction. “I guess that doesn’t sound too bad.”

Lena’s fingers draw little squiggling lines across the skin of Kara’s legs, her nails scratching in the soft way that she knows Kara likes, her way of enticing her into taking some time to herself for once, unashamed to use any trick she has to in order to get Kara to agree. “It doesn’t sound bad at all. I can even get you some snacks too, I don’t think we have any popcorn but we have those chips you like.”

Kara’s lips turn up. “Ok, but you’ve got to watch the first episode with me before you start working.” There’s a forcefulness to Kara’s voice that lets Lena know that this is a battle that’s not worth fighting because she wants Kara to sit and stop thinking of work and if the only way she can get her to do that is by making a deal, she’s not ashamed to take the deal offered to her. Besides, it won’t kill her to start work a little later than usual anyway because Sam has been an absolute angel and has been looking after L-Corp for her.

She’s really stepped up where Lena needed her to and once this is all over and Lena can fully immerse herself back into her job, Sam is going to get a very nice bonus and a well-earned all-expenses paid-for vacation because that woman deserves it.

“Deal.” Lena switches the TV on and presses the remote into Kara’s hand so she can choose what she wants to watch before picking Kara’s legs back up with the intention of standing up and getting them snacks but she sits back down when her phone starts ringing in her pocket.

She takes a look at the caller ID before answering. “Hey, Lucy. Are you ok?”

“Not really.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“I’m on my way to you now because something pretty bad just happened.”

Lena deflates because she has no idea how anything could be worse but yet if Lucy is coming to their place then whatever it is, it must be past the point of pretty bad and has to be firmly in the really bad category. “What is it?”

“Footage of you, Kara and Alex has been leaked, footage of you walking through Lord Industries. You’re barely recognisable in the video and it’s up for debate in the public’s eye whether or not it’s you but there was a statement released with the video that you stole company documents and whoever posted it, they’re accusing you of using those documents to help you acquire the company.”

“Fuck.” Lena breathes, well aware of Kara sitting up beside her, waiting for the call to end so she can be filled in on whatever it is that’s happening. “right, ok. I don’t know how you can get past the front gate though because there are people everywhere out there.”

“I’ll park up the street and then walk over to the smaller gate off to the side of the main gate. Open it up when I get there and then lock it again right behind me. That gate barely has anyone there because the view to the house isn’t as good from there so it shouldn’t be too hard so long as we’re quick. Can you unlock it electronically from the house?”

“I can but how do you know all of that, you’ve never even been here before?”

“Oh, there are news helicopters flying over the top of your place, I can see it all live right now.”

Lena gets up, Kara following her because she’s trying to piece together what’s going on, something that’s quite difficult to do when she can only hear half of the conversation. She beelines for the window, doing what Kara did earlier and making a gap just big enough to peek out of so they won’t be spotted.

She can see the main gate still being flooded by bodies and the smaller gate just a few metres to the left of it, the one that is only wide enough to walk through and has high hedges on either side of it, only has one person beside it but there could possibly be a couple more behind the bushes that Lena can’t see.

Now that she’s aware of it, she can hear the sound of the helicopter buzzing away overhead and it makes her irrationally angry. She knows that they aren’t getting shots of anything good or interesting but this is their house and their privacy that is being invaded just because these people want to get a couple of pictures. It’s disgusting really.

“I see that. What’s your ETA?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’ll give you another call when I’ve parked so you know when to open the gate.”

“Ok, drive safe.”

“I will, see you soon.” Lucy ends the call and Lena is left with a sickening feeling of dread.

Kara peeps through the gap she made in the curtains, trying to see whatever it is that Lena was looking at but coming back empty-handed because she’s just lost. “What exactly is going on?”

Lena sighs and moves back to the couch, grabbing her coffee on the way. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get your relaxing day after all. Someone leaked footage of us from Lord Industries. Lucy says that it’s not clear that it’s us but since we’ve been named, people believe it. They’re painting it as us stealing documents so I could take over the company.”

“Well, that’s not good.” Kara sits beside her, her own coffee in hand. “What do we do now then?”

Lena leans her head back, the feeling of defeat sinking in her chest. Every time they feel like they are getting somewhere or things are being handled, they just get shoved back down into the dirt. “I don’t know, Lucy is on her way over here now. She’s going to come in through the small gate to try and avoid everyone out there.”

Kara clicks her tongue. “That’s going to be a job and a half.”

“Yep.” Lena agrees. She looks down at her fluffy socks and her pyjamas that she stole from Kara, ones with little cupcakes on them. She won’t be caught dead wearing these when Lucy gets here. “We should probably change since we’ll be having a guest over.”

Kara looks between Lena and her own pyjamas, the ones with ducks on them. “Good point.”

-

Lucy gets inside with little issue. Well, she gets through the gate with little issue and by the time she was spotted through the gate, it was already locked tightly behind her. She was noticed though and with that came the deafening noise of people yelling at her. She couldn’t tell what most of them were saying but the few that she could, it was just basic questions. Who are you? How did you get in? Do you know them? What is she doing? Just the standard questions that she was already expecting to hear being yelled at her. All questions that she has no problem ignoring.

Lena cracks the front door open for her and lets her in, locking the door behind her. “Good morning.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s good but it is morning.” Lucy sighs as the heavy gaze of the reporters outside slides off her back with the closing of the door. “It’s a mess out there.”

“I see that.” Lena takes her to the living room where Kara is sitting on the couch, her phone open because she’s been distracting herself by playing Candy Crush. “Hey, Kara, Lucy’s here.”

The phone is tossed aside quickly, Kara hiding the screen because she’s a little embarrassed that she just got caught playing games when there’s a bit of a crisis going on. “Hi, Lucy.”

“Hey, Kara. How are you guys holding up?”

“Well, we’re ok. Just laying low, you know?” Kara shrugs. “There’s not a lot else we can do. If I could, I’d come to CatCo to help you guys but that’s kind of out of the question, isn’t it?”

Lucy nods. “Yeah, there’s not a lot for you to do there. I’m here for a couple of reasons though.”

Kara tilts her head in question, her eyes urging Lucy to keep talking.

“Cat wants the pair of you to make a statement. I think that would be a good idea too. As of yet, you’re both in the middle of this mess and yet it’s not been the pair of you to talk about any of it. It’s been PR reps for you, Lena, and for Kara, it’s been CatCo. You two need to speak to the public personally.”

Lena’s eyebrows furrow as the thinks about it. It makes sense really; she can understand where Lucy is coming from. “So, we write a statement and we publish it online?”

“Not exactly.” Lucy actually looks a little bit hesitant, something that Lucy rarely is, her confidence a cornerstone in her personality. “She wants you to speak in a live stream and answer questions from the comments as they appear in real-time. The thought behind it is that you will seem a lot more sincere if you speak without a script so we just go over your story beforehand so you don’t get caught up on any questions, especially the ones regarding Lord Industries, and then we set you guys up to answer whatever questions come your way.”

Kara and Lena share a look. It might sound like the perfect option for them to clear their names and maybe it is, but neither of them does things like this. Lena has done some public speaking before but it’s always been about science or business, this is personal on a different level.

Kara shrugs at her. “I don’t think there’s a better option.” She turns to Lucy. “Please tell me I can drink beforehand though. I cannot do this completely sober.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Lena agrees with Kara, her mouth suddenly very dry even though it wasn’t that long ago that she had coffee. “I’ll go get us some drinks. Lucy, a drink?”

Lucy shakes her head. “You’re the worst clients I’ve ever had.”

“Can I get a plaque or a medal with that engraved? That would look awesome on my wall.” Kara laughs at her own joke, Lucy’s unimpressed face doing wonders for her amusement.

Lucy still looks mildly disappointed when Lena gets back, two drinks in hand, most definitely alcoholic. Lucy looks shocked that she’s actually followed through and to be frank, Kara is too. She thought it was just a joke because Lena’s never been one to gamble and do anything that is this important under the influence.

Kara takes one of the offered drinks. “What does this have in it?” She takes a sip. “Oh, that’s tequila.”

“Yes. Yes, it is. Normally, I wouldn’t want to be impaired but given what this is and how far out of my comfort zone I am, I think alcohol is exactly what I need besides I think we’re less likely to look like we’re lying about anything if we’re more relaxed.”

Kara nods along. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

Lucy sits down in the chair that is set at a ninety-degree angle to the couch and sits so she’s partially facing the pair of them. “Whatever, we have to go through our story first. Just don’t show you’re drinking, please. We have enough bad publicity without that too.”

“You got it, boss.” Kara raises her glass up to her before taking a sip and pulling a face because Lena really made these drinks strong.

Kara and Lena sit and listen dutifully as Lucy goes through what their cover is for being at Lord Industries, which is simple, they weren’t there. The footage only shows their backs and it’s pretty blurry, it is no proof at all really because it’s easy for them to spin it as them being targeted in another way.

They can’t admit to breaking in, even if it was to get documents exposing a bunch of illegal shenanigans so they just have to deny, deny, deny.

Other than that though, they just have to tell the truth. There’s not a lot else they need to do except answer the questions as they come and try not to show they’ve been drinking but they aren’t too concerned about that. They’ve only had one and maybe they’ll have a second while Lucy sets up Kara’s laptop so they can go live through CatCo’s website.

Lucy plucks the glasses out of their hands and sets them aside, ignoring the indignant looks she gets. “Don’t look at me like that, we’re ready to go. We already have over three thousand people waiting to watch you guys so please, make yourselves presentable and we’ll be live in just a minute.

Knowing that they will be seen by so many people in just a moment, Kara and Lena both get to work on trying to make themselves look better. They only got dressed because Lucy was coming over but since they know Lucy, they didn’t necessarily dress up nicely, just jeans, t-shirts and knitted sweaters. Simple clothes that they would not choose to make speeches in or answer questions in front of thousands of people in.

Kara tucks down a few stray strands of Lena’s hair, smoothing out her ponytail for her so she looks like the badass she is and in return, Lena helps Kara out by fluffing up her blonde curls that are loose around her shoulders.

“You’re all set.” She mumbles.

“You too,” Kara replies. “Are you set too, Lucy?”

“Whenever you are.” Lucy faffs with the laptop for a few minutes and makes sure that it will get a good angle for them and when she decides that the lighting isn’t good, she moves them to the chair, squishing them together so they fit in it together because it’s right below a light fixture so the lighting is much better and the plain backdrop of just a plain cream-coloured wall is much better and looks more professional anyway.

Lena nods to Lucy and she begins to count down.

“Three, two, and live.” She presses a button and all of a sudden the screen is being filled with comments, most of them moving way too fast for them to be able to read.

“Hi.” Kara waves at the camera with a small smile. “I’m Kara Danvers and this is Lena Luthor, who I’m sure you all know. She’s the CEO of L-Corp and she’s my partner.”

Lena coughs, talking lowly, “I don’t think they needed to know that.”

Kara looks confused and doesn’t bother trying to lower her voice to Lena’s level. “People already know we’re together, why would I hide it? It’s not like it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“I know it’s not; this is a professional live stream though.”

“Oh yeah.” It clicks for Kara and she blushes slightly. “Forget what I just said.”

Lena squints at the screen and looks through the settings to try and slow down the comments. “Hold on a moment please, I’m just trying to slow down these comments so we can read them because they are going insanely fast at the minute and we can’t actually read what any of them say. I really hope I can figure this out because it will be embarrassing if the CEO of a tech company can’t even…and I got it.”

The screen has slowed and each comment stays for several seconds now, the scrolling of it dramatically steadier. Kara leans forward, enthusiastically starting to read the comments. “It looks like people like you, baby.”

Lena sends her a sharp look.

“Lena, I meant, people like you, Lena.”

Lena has to fight the urge to not facepalm. It turns out that while that the drinks she made were a bad idea because while they worked wonders for calming her nerves, Kara is more of a lightweight and it would have been better if she had put far less alcohol in Kara’s ones than she did in her own.

“Alright, well, let’s just dive into it. I think it might be easier if we just jump right into the questions and that way we can just acknowledge whatever it is you want us to acknowledge without bombarding you with any boring or useless information you don’t need. Of course, we will add commentary or added explanations throughout to add context where necessary though so please, send in your questions and we’ll jump right into it.”

Lucy sits on the couch, watching them carefully with the live stream open on Lena’s laptop so she can see what all of the comments are saying too, she just has it muted since she can hear them in real-time anyway. She’s very happy with Lena’s plan of only giving them the necessary information without just giving the public a run-on story for them to try and poke holes into.

Kara’s eyes shine excitedly. She’s really getting into this whole livestream thing and is way too happy to be answering questions right now.

The first question that pops up is exactly the topic they were just discussing off-camera. “So, first question; is it really you in the footage from Lord Industries?”

Lena shakes her head right away. “Absolutely not, if it were us, you’d probably have your hands on much better footage than that. It’s no secret that I now own Lord Industries since L-Corp absorbed it not too long ago but that gives me knowledge of that building and when I tell you that the entire place is covered with cameras, I’m not kidding. If that were us, it would be really easy for them to give you footage of our faces. Obviously, they can’t do that because it wasn’t us and that’s why whomever it was that leaked the footage chose a shot from the back of the poor souls being accused of being us.”

“And they are poor souls because they don’t have butts as good as ours. You’d know it was us by the butts.” Kara says seriously, her head bobbing to really convey what she’s saying before Lena nudges her with her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” She hisses.

“I’m sorry.” Kara pouts. She looks directly into the camera. “We might have had drinks before doing this to make us feel better and I might have had too much and now my filter has gone.”

Lena drops her head into her hands. “And there’s the thing you weren’t meant to admit to.”

Kara at least looks a little bit guilty. “Maybe I should go and drink some water.”

“Good idea. Here, let me—” Lena tries to shift so Kara can get up but with them pressed together so tightly and Kara’s slight inebriation, she gets up before Lena can move properly, jolting them both enough that everyone watching definitely just saw Kara pretty much trip right over Lena. “Oh my god, this is the worst thing ever, I’m never living this down.”

Kara scoots out of view and Lena sighs heavily as she looks at the comments. Pretty much every comment is just lines of laughing emojis or comments about how funny it is that Kara’s not speaking professionally how they expected, finding it especially funny that she has completely lost her filter and has been drinking as well as laughing at Lena’s exasperation.

There are a couple of comments here and there talking about how disappointed they are that the live stream isn’t being taken seriously but for the most part, it’s going surprisingly well for them. Lena looks over the top of the screen at Lucy and she can see that she’s seeing the same things.

Lucy takes a blank notepad and in Sharpie, she writes in big letters. ‘This is good. Play on it.’

If Lucy thinks it’s a good idea then why not? Lena leans over and grabs her drink. “Kara needs water but with what I’ve got to put up with, I need the tequila back.” She takes a sip on screen and is greeted by another barrage of laughing emojis.

Kara trips her way back into the room, a bottle of water in hand and dangling precariously from her fingertips. She squeezes her way back in next to Lena. “I’m back. Oh hey, you’re drinking again. I’ll get mine too.”

Lena catches her hand as she goes to grab her drink and instead tightens her grip on the water bottle. “Don’t drop that, that’s all your drinking because you cannot handle tequila. Drink your water.”

Kara shrugs and does exactly that, unscrewing the cap and taking a big gulp. “Right, next question, what are we looking at?”

Lena leans in closer to the screen, squinting and wishing she had the foresight to grab her glasses because she already knows she’ll be getting sent screenshots of her squinting at the screen from Sam and probably Alex too once this is all over. She spots the next comment. “How did the article we claim to be fake get published if we didn’t intend for it to be released? How do we know it wasn’t your plan?”

Kara’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Why would I release an article trashing myself, that doesn’t make sense.”

“I think they’re saying that you would do that if you were trying to make it look like you were being targeted rather than it being what it is where you actually are being targeted,” Lena explains.

“Oh, right. So, it got published by the editor-in-chief at the time and he swapped out the approved article with the slanderous one last minute so nobody knew about it until it got published. I think Ms grant explained it already in a briefing to the press already but the short version is that he skedaddled right out of CatCo right after he did it so he was long gone before he could be confronted or stopped. As for knowing who is telling the truth, well, I don’t think there are masses of proof on either side because really, this is the government I wrote an article on and I exposed them for something they did that they didn’t want to get out so it’s pretty understandable that they aren’t leaving behind any kind of evidence for us to show you guys but I think it’s pretty telling that we’ve made a statement against the former editor-in-chief because if we were lying, we’d be opening ourselves up to a very large defamation lawsuit but that won’t happen because it’s the truth.”

Lena looks impressed.

“What?”

“You’re surprisingly well-spoken when you’re tipsy.”

Kara tilts her head looking a little like a puppy. “Thank you? I think that’s a compliment.”

“It is.” Lena’s lips quirk up and she looks at Kara for a beat too long with fondness lingering in her eyes because not two seconds later they are being bombarded with comments about how cute they look together.

Kara grins and points at each comment complimenting them. “Look, this one says you have a beautiful jawline. I can agree with that. It looks like it’s been sculpted by the gods.” She tilts Lena’s face by gently gripping her chin so the people can get a good look at it.

Lena softly takes Kara’s hand from her face. “Darling, we need to answer questions about the article, not talk about my jaw, ok?”

Kara snaps out of it. “Yeah, of course, yes. Back to important questions, everyone ask away.”

The comments go from mostly just people talking about them and their personalities to splitting between those ones and actual comments about what is going on with them.

Lena purposefully picks out the professional questions and they work together answering them to the best of their abilities while Kara still goes off track every now and again, pointing out the comments telling them they look good or asking them questions about their personal lives. Lena has to cut her off every once in a while because while she doesn’t mind Kara telling everyone how she likes to spend time in their garden in her free time, she’s not cool with everyone and their mom knowing which side of the bed they sleep on.

After a short while, once most of the important questions have been answered and answered well to the point where it’s not hard to tell that they have gained a lot of respect and backing from the people watching the live stream, Lena sees Lucy signalling for them to wrap it up.

“I think we’re right about at the end of this. I think Kara needs a nap now.” Lena chuckles at the offended look Kara gives her. “If we didn’t get to your question then I’m sorry, feel free to send it to us on Twitter and I’ll try to respond on there in the next couple of days whenever I get a chance to, we weren’t avoiding any questions, the screen just moves pretty fast, even after I slowed it down, so we couldn’t read them all. I hope you have a wonderful day, everyone and I guess we’ll see you later. Bye!”

Lena waves at the screen and Kara joins in, much more animatedly than Lena does. “Bye, everyone! Please also send me pictures of your pets!”

“Kara.” Lena sighs and with that, the live stream ends.

The laptop is shut and they move from the chair onto the couch, getting Lucy to move over so they can spread out because they were starting to get cramp from being squished together so tightly.

“I think that went well,” Kara says after a minute, a small smile gracing her lips.

Lucy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “It did. You almost messed it up and it’s a good job you have a really likeable personality because if you didn’t then you would have just messed up big time.”

With the harsh words being sent her way, Kara can’t help but close off a little and curl in on herself. “Sorry.”

Lena doesn’t like to see Kara sad but Lucy does have a point. “Kara, I know you didn’t mean it but that could have been bad. It was a bad idea to drink beforehand, that’s on me. I’m sorry to both of you.”

Lucy pulls out her phone when it starts buzzing away. Seeing that it’s Cat calling, she answers it without hesitation, putting it on speakerphone.

“Ms Grant, you’re on speakerphone so Lena and Kara can hear you.”

“Good, Kara, you’re very lucky I don’t fire you but since you somehow did a good job despite your incompetence, you’re still gainfully employed although you owe that in no small part to your better half because she kept that live stream going. I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to drink before it, especially knowing what’s at stake but it was a bad idea. Pull your crap together and don’t do it again. Now, I suggest you get on Twitter because you’re trending and you still have a lot of questions to answer.”

“Yes, Ms Grant,” Kara answers, her automatic response triggered from when she was still an assistant, it’s just second nature and it’s pretty much built into her at this point.

Lena doesn’t particularly like being scolded and doesn’t like hearing Kara being scolded either because she’s a grown woman but there are battles to pick and the one against the woman that is currently doing a mighty fine job at protecting their public image isn’t one she should fight. “I’ll get my PR team to answer some of the questions for me.”

Cat hums. “That’s not a bad idea. Kara, I want your login details for your Twitter account, I’ll have Nia answer questions for you.”

“Ok.” Kara murmurs. “I’ll do that.”

“Excellent. Lucy, thank you for heading over there and helping them out. We’ll be having a chat about you allowing them to drink before the live stream but other than that, you did a good job.”

“Thank you, Ms Grant.”

“That’s it, get back to work.” Cat hangs up the phone.

They all sit in the heaviness left behind from being admonished by Cat for a while but then Kara’s yawning makes Lena snap out of it. They still have a lot of work to do and by them, that’s herself and Lucy. She was serious when she said what she did earlier. “Let’s get you upstairs, darling. You can have a nap and you can come and help us when you’ve rested.”

Lena looks over at Lucy. I’m going to work from my office. I know you won’t be able to safely leave just yet so feel free to work wherever you like or watch TV or whatever it is you want to do. If the crowd doesn’t clear then you’re welcome to stay the night.”

“Thanks, Lena, I appreciate that. I’ll stay a while and see if it clears any. I might be able to sneak out when it gets dark but we’ll see.” She watches Lena heave Kara up and the blonde woman stumbles a bit. “I can’t believe she’s this bad from just a couple of drinks.”

“Yeah, but they are Lena drinks. I always make mine strong, I forgot that she doesn’t really drink, hence why she’s a lightweight.” Lena hooks Kara’s arm over her shoulder. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks again and don’t forget to have her send her account details to Nia or else she’ll have more than a hangover to deal with when she wakes up.”

Lena makes a mental note, she almost forgot about that. “I will.”

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