#if they weren't good at their jobs then the powers wouldn't help none

[abronzeagegod]

The Leader: woman in her mid 50's, hair has started to go grey, pulling out all the color, she's pretty put together. Her mannerisms tend to be a bit clipped and short, but that's just because she's juggling a dozen other things and people. She definitely will do whatever it takes to keep her team and people alive, even if it means consorting with various dark powers. Good thing she's smart, and quick, and she has an experienced team. Sometimes being smart is better than being lucky.

Powers: ?????

The Lockpick: a man with deft hands, and sort of a crooked bent to him. he's very tall and lean and so he always seems to be ducking his head in whatever room he's in because he's hit his head a few too many times. Extremely delicate and precise with all of his movements, he doesn't say much or do much, but when he does he does so with extreme purpose.

Powers: Ward-breaker. Ward-breakers are adept at working and undermining the various supernatural wards that can be put up around stuff. Salt rings, cold iron, engraved circles etched into concrete with silver knives, ancient runes written in languages only known to the Deep Entities in the bay, none of them can stand to a talented Ward-Breaker who has the right tools and enough time.

The Muscle: very little is known about the muscle, other than he is much more physically imposing than he aught to be. Someone watched him hold off a single room of trained thugs single-handedly. He claims to not be religious of any stripe, but knows an awful lot about all of the rituals of most religions. Even the weird esoteric ones that only have a small handful of believers. Everyone is afraid to ask about the runes engraved upon his skin that he has covered up most of the time.

Powers: pyscho-kinetic paraphysical, fancy words for saying that he can put the metaphysical entities that are so often encountered on the job. He can, briefly, make the haunts and the ghosts and everything else have to obey the same rules as everyone else. So when he punches them they are punched. It's often very much a surprise for the entities that are not used to be being physically manhandled.

The Face: the face is the woman that the crew uses to talk to people and fleece them. She's a gregarious person who absolutely loves talking to people. While the most extroverted of the lot, she actually prefers to have other people talk about themselves. When observed closely its clear that she doesn't actually say that much, just a few small interjections or pointed questions to get her target to reveal everything about themselves.

Powers: Medium, she can communicate with the dead and the other various extraplanar entities. Sometimes they can even share secrets and information about the people she is trying to con. It can be very helpful but also very overwhelming. Part of why she talks so little is because there are just too many voices to listen to.

The Runner: sometimes you need to get in and out of a location really quick, especially when committing crimes. The runner is a tiny little thing, a wisp of a girl (and she might actually be partially will-o-wisp), that is extremely fast and light on her feet. She's a bit of an overly serious person that doesn't trust easily at all. People often accuse her of not having a sense of humor, but that's because they don't know her or they aren't fast enough to catch her extremely dry responses.

Powers: Optimization is a subset of divination and foresight. It is a specific type of future sight that allows for the user to be able to see the quickest, shortest, and/or most efficient route to doing something. A powerful ability with several downsides. The most noticeable downside is the energy drain, which is why the runner is always, constantly eating and drinking. The other downside is that the power only works if the runner knows where she's going. And sometimes the most efficient route is not the safest.

New plot idea:

A crackpot team of thieves gets together for One More Job. They’re going to have to break into a bit ol mansion and the only time they can get into during a big ol gala with fancy rich people in costumes where they can blend in. They do their jobs get into the positions, and start getting through the weird old and esoteric safeguards, and then things start going wrong.

Turns out that they are trying to steal a cursed object, something deeply deeply cursed and even more evil. Things don’t just start effecting the thieves but the partygoers. The heist movie* starts turning into a horror movie.

People start dying, the thieves are staying alive, for now, by the skin of their teeth and with their Extreme Thieves Skills. The leader refuses to call off the job. They keep going.

Just kidding the thieves are aware of the supernatural, not only they are aware but they are ready for it. They know how to combat it. They didn’t live just by luck! They were ready for it. They’re supernatural thieves!

They’re here to steal the cursed object and destroy it or seal it up. The rich people who own these things revel in the violence and blood and horror these things cause and these thieves are here to take that from them. And maybe some other things along the way.

[modern-gremlin]

Rivals with Benefits | Lance SDV Expanded (FWB to Lovers) 🔞 PT. 1

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART 1/2

Summary: If it weren't for Marlon, you wouldn't have bothered to help Lance out with his research, especially not by the way he gets on your nerves. You tried to give him a piece of your mind, but you might have given bit more than you intended.

Pairing: Lance (SDV Expanded) x afab!reader Tags: Smut, kind-of-tsundere reader, Friends with Benefits situationship, detailed depictions of sex. NSFW Tags below the cut. Word Count: 7k (oops) A/N: I just kept getting ideas for a Lance Rival to FWB to lovers story line and now I’ve word vomited it all here. IMAGINE, I had the intention to make this whole thing around 2,000~3,000 words?! lmfao, a fool I am. Well, here's to Part One~ I've written it in the perspective of a foolhardy, tsundere-ish farmer who's been trying to work their way up as an apprentice to Marlon. They're such a little shit on the outside but a softy in the inside <3 They have no idea how down bad they are for Lance, but they find out soon enough. I had so much fun writing this one, hope you enjoy xoxo

NSFW Tags: dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, backshots

When you first met Lance, you couldn’t deny that you were a little more than curious about the "mystery man" who greeted you at the top of the Caldera. You were smitten, more like, but you wouldn’t dare admit that now. Lance has been getting under your skin ever since he’s been asked to join the Adventurer’s Guild. Marlon might think he's a reliable and experienced combat mage, but you see right through that façade.

He's more like an over-confident killjoy who thinks he knows everything, you think to yourself. He's always quick to make objections to your suggestions — "That seems rather risky, don't you think?" he says. "You should carry more medicine with you," he says. Please, as if you couldn't handle yourself in the mines. You've been down there countless of times; so what if you've come out very a little battered every now and then? For whatever reason, he seems to single you out the most out of all the adventurers who visit the guild. To make matters worse, he never seems bothered whenever you make verbal jabs at him. He always maintains that arrogant smirk on his face and pretends that you've won the argument. Screw him and his stupid handsome face.

Your rivalry with him is no secret to the rest of the guild — almost every meeting starts with a battle of wits between you two, until Marlon practically has to pull you two apart from one another. "Get a room, you two," Gil would often remark something of the like, just barely raising himself from his regular spot by the fireplace. You hate how Lance just chuckles under his breath as you try to explain to the old man how the tensions between you two are "strictly from annoyance". You definitely don't sneak glances at him when he's none the wiser, and surely you just "coincidentally" bump into him at least twice a week (as if he hadn't already given you his schedule.) He just gets on your nerves. That's all, isn't it?

That's certainly what you convince yourself until one day you're sent to the Highlands Outpost to help him with a special research initiative. You wouldn't have taken the job if Marlon hadn't been so insistent that you'd be a perfect fit for the task. It wouldn't be wise for an apprentice to reject their mentor's request when they point out their strengths, so begrudgingly you agree. There's a clear enclosure in your greenhouse set aside for Lance's "little experiment". Good thing you've made decent enough clearance around your fruit trees — these plants are almost vicious as the creatures that drop them. Some are poisonous, some emit a strange dark aura, one of them is just downright creepy. To say this project is completely unorthodox would be an understatement, but admittedly, you are intrigued by the monster crops and the arcane powers they might possess. It only comes with the minor grievance of having to report to Lance every so often; tending to these crops every morning does seem like a cruel daily reminder of your rivalry with him. But with the final monster fruit harvested and stored, your mission is finally about to come to an end. Placing each of the crops inside a burlap sack, you make the trip out to the Highlands.

Upon arrival at the outpost, you notice that there's no one in sight. Just the peaceful view of the cedar trees stretching to the top of the mountain side, occasionally lit by the blue flames Lance had decorated around the area. From this safe distance, the view from the Highlands is breathtaking in the late summer evening. If you hadn't known that these fields to be riddled with monsters galore, you'd bet this would be a pretty nice place to camp out for a while. The sun slowly dips below the horizon as you breathe in deep swaths of fresh air. Not a bad spot to be stationed to, you think to yourself. Sure, the valley is modestly beautiful too, but you do wonder why Lance had accepted a job there when his schedule already has him spread thin. Besides, the Highlands Outpost is quite scenic itself. You really can't complain for the extra help though — as much as you hate to admit it, he's been a valuable asset to the guild. Now with Lance, once again, entering your mind, you remember the purpose of your visit. Taking in a last few breaths of the evening breeze, you slowly make your way to the outpost tower door. Like always, you announce yourself the same way; three quick knocks against the wood and an "it's me" signals to Lance that is you, in fact, at the door. "Come in," he routinely answers.

Once you enter the room, you see Lance sitting at his desk. He's too busy scrawling notes in his journal to greet you just yet. The room echoes when he gently slaps his journal shut to turn his attention to you. You swear he keeps a list of things that piss you off in that little book of his, because it's like he knows just what to say to make your face turn into a cherry tomato. "Good evening, farmer," he greets you cheerily, "have you come to keep me company tonight?" The peace and tranquility from your nature walk quickly dissipates the moment he teases you. "Yeah, you wish," you remark with a sneer, "I've come to give you the last of these." Raising the burlap sack toward him, you gently place the crops on the desk in front of him. His mouth curls into a smile as you retrieve each plant from the bag and place them before him. "Wow, these are quite fascinating. Truly remarkable specimen," he says as he carefully examines the freshly-harvested monster crops, "I'm surprised, they're in such perfect condition-" He's surprised? Really? You've been tirelessly caring for these venomous, god-forsaken crops for weeks now. They've been taking up precious greenhouse space that could've been used for ancient fruit and yet, he still has the gall to tease you about it? "Hmph, you're 'surprised?' I thought you'd be smart enough to know I'd be your best bet in cultivating these crops," you scoff, turning away from his gaze in a meek attempt to hide your pouting face from him, "A 'thank you' would have sufficed." Sigh, what was I expecting? You curtly head towards the door with the job finally being done.

"Pardon me, I didn't mean any ill-will. I'm only surprised because I had thought it would be impossible to cultivate these kinds of seeds," he places a palm on his neck as he corrects himself, "I've tried several times with no success." This stops you from storming out of the outpost tower and he continues in response, "I truly am impressed. Marlon was right to entrust you with this task, thank you." His sincerity is almost believable, but you know better to believe his charismatic antics. You march back toward the desk he's seated in front of, readying a pointing finger toward him to confront his sweet-talking attitude. But this time, without Marlon to stop you, you're determined to let him have a piece of your mind. "You know what? Everyone thinks you're so eloquent and great. Oh but I see through that act of yours," you annoyedly remark, pressing your index to his chest. "What is it about me that you dislike so much, hm? You think just because you're some… good-looking, combat mage prodigy, you get to push me around? You've been nitpicking my every move for months now!" For a moment, Lance is at a loss for words. He just stares up at you with wide eyes, which causes heat to spread across your cheeks.

"Dislike? I know I enjoy a little bit of banter with you every so often, but dislike? Do I really give the impression that I dislike you?" he asks earnestly. You retract your finger and hesitantly take a step back. His question takes you by surprise; it never really occurred to you might have read his intentions wrong in the first place. But still, you're much too stubborn to give in now. "Y-yeah? I mean, you're always picking on me and never any of the other adventurers at the guild. If you don't dislike me, what gives?" You pray he didn't catch the shakiness in your voice, but if your trembling lips didn't give it away, the flush that's spreading from your cheeks to your ears quickly reveal how nervous you are. His familiar chuckle escapes from his lips and now he's looking at you with a playful grin. "It might be because you're always the most charming person in the room. In any room, if I'm honest."

Now he's done it. The blush on your face has gone from cherry tomato to actual-cherry-red. You can't even spew vitriol back at him to hide how giddy you actually are. It's like your heart is lodged in your throat and its beating prevents you from speaking. "I don't dislike you in the slightest. My apologies, I didn't realize I was coming across as harsh." His smile subtly switches from sly to warm, as if he's trying to convince you to believe him. "Pfft... me, charming? Th-that's hard to believe, considering how you've been targeting me since you arrived at the valley," you retort nervously, your eyes shifting away from his. Almost as if he knew you were trying to plan your escape, his next words glue you to the floor. "Perhaps I have been singling you out too much, but I promise I don't do it purposefully — I'm sorry. I admit I do enjoy teasing you, though. I've grown quite fond of that pout of yours, it's rather cute."

Ugh, no. This wasn't how this was supposed to go, you think. He wasn't supposed to have you speechless and red in the face. This isn't fair. You want to be furious but your heart is betraying you. It's clouding up your mind so much that you can't even stop the smile creeping on the corner of your lips. He's not making it much easier for your ego now either, because he's enjoying your bashful display a little too much for your liking. If only you could stop him from doing that thing; the thing where he chuckles and send butterflies rushing through your stomach. You just want to wipe that stupid, handsome smile off of his stupid, handsome face. And to both of your surprise, you actually do.

You don't even take time to consider your actions before you're catching his mouth onto yours. A deep, longing kiss — something you've secretly wanted since he first appeared in front of you. At first, he's rendered motionless from the shock, but soon you feel the heat rise onto his cheeks and he sinks into you. Your lips are even softer than he imagined and you never realized how intoxicatingly good he smells. It's only then when you realized what you've done; your mind is screaming at you to pull away but you can't. His mouth on yours is quelling the fire in your heart and besides, you couldn't move away even if you wanted to. You simply couldn't by the way his hands have trailed to your waist to pull you deeper into him. You, so badly, want to pretend like you hate this but it's like your whole body has given up and given in to how you truly feel: you are undeniably, foolishly, attracted to this man. Really, it's almost stupid how eager you are to be touched by him. At least one part of you is honest to your feelings. The only remnant of anger left in you is how mad you are at yourself for being bested by him, again. As always.

Then, it occurs to you: weren't you the one who pulled him into the kiss? Aren't you the one who's making him lose his usually composed demeanour and making him groan under his breath? You grin against his lips when it finally hits you: you are the one in control right now. He can tease you with words all he wants, but you've landed the first blow. Now, the nature of the game has changed. All caution has been thrown into the wind, and you've dedicated yourself to completely making a mess of him, even if you make a mess of yourself in the process.

It's your turn to make the next move. Kissing him with much more purpose and fervour, you gently take his bottom lip in between your teeth causing him to return the action. You tactfully graze your nails across his chest upwards towards the back of his head, letting his pink hair run between your fingers. He's pulling you in tighter now so your chest lies flush onto his — so close, you can feel each other's heartbeats rattling in your ribcage. You're not sure if he's doing this on purpose, but your breasts are pressed so nicely against his toned chest that even his breathing elicits a small whimper from you. His hands rub lightly up and down the small of your back, keeping you stuck against him. The arousal of it all threatens to throw you off track, but he unwittingly reminds you of your plan when he pulls away to tease you, "If I had known this is what you wanted, I would have revealed my affections for you sooner." His grip upon your waist had threatened to make you abandon all wits and give in to his touch, but when that dastardly smile appears on his face again, you're reminded of what you must do.

You're absolutely relishing in satisfaction when you shock him once more, because now you've wrapped your legs around his, straddling his lap, purposefully resting yourself on his growing bulge. For once, he's not quick to retaliate at your advances. This time, he's just mesmerized by your brazenness. He'd be lying if he said that he hasn't fantasized about this exact scenario countless times, that you weren't the first to come to mind on particularly lonely nights at the outpost. But he never, in his wildest dreams, thought he'd be spoiled like this today. He lets you make your next move by staying still; as if he were to move, he'd accidentally wake himself up and find this was all a dream. However, his hesitance is what's getting to you now. Why is he so quiet? Does he want me to move? Shit, if he doesn't like this, I should get off of him, ramble the doubts running through your mind. But as you attempt to shuffle off his lap, he catches you by the back again to keep your weight on top of him. You can't believe how needy he looks right now, so needy for you touch him. You have your confirmation — he's wrapped around your finger.

"Wow, you're so quiet now. That's very unlike you, Lance" you tease. "You need me to move, hm? Or would that be too much for you?" You smile at him smugly as you place your hands on his shoulders. "You don't need to hurry the pace on my behalf, sweetheart. Only go as fast as you can handle," he says, retaliating with a smirk. You think I can't handle this, huh? I'm gonna make you eat your words, you think to yourself. In a quick grind of your hips, you graze your clothed cunt against him causing both of you let out a sharp breath at the stimulation. God, maybe he was right. Maybe you can't handle this because this movement alone is driving you crazy. I mean, it definitely has been a while since you've hooked up with somebody, but this feeling is much more overwhelming than anything you remember. There's no way you'd be able to live it down if you were to cum on him just from this. Maybe I should stop while I'm ahead, you think to yourself. But he's giving you a look he's never showed you before — he looks so hungry and dazed. You can't stop now, not when you have him against the ropes like this. So you ease into a rhythm, using your grip on his shoulders as leverage to rock your clit onto his length.

This is bad. Really bad. You're absolutely dripping on his lap and moaning into his ear, and you're not even going that fast. Definitely not as nonchalant as you hoped you could be. Lucky for you, Lance doesn't seem to notice. Judging by how hard he is, he's probably too turned on to care. You just hope your wetness isn't soaking through your clothes. Still, you consciously slow down your pace to let yourself calm down. This, however, does catch Lance's attention. "Come on, what happened to that vigour? You can do better than that. Here..." he scolds, now grabbing the fat of your ass in each of his hands. "...allow me to help you with that." You whine at his sudden movements as he makes you rub faster against him. Moans keep slipping through your mouth no matter how hard you try to bite your lip to hide them. You can feel him buck his hips under you in perfect rhythm to his hands that pull you against his length. Fuck, why does he have to be so fucking good at this?

You can feel the knot in your stomach beginning to untie itself, ready to make you burst. Not good. You have to think of something, and think of it fast. He's still grinding you on top of his cock when you lean in for a kiss yet again, this time, pressing the weight of your chest entirely on top of him. You push forward against him so hard that the chair you're both supported upon nearly tips over, until he grabs table before you both fall. "Don't get too carried away now," he says with a smile. "Says you," you retort back breathily. His words are unwavering but you can see it; there's a bead of sweat dripping from his brow and he's breathing is erratic. He's not faring as well as he's leading on. It's time to make him pay for taking the reigns away from you.

With his grip loosened, you free yourself to stand in front of him, standing with your back facing toward him. He opens his mouth to tease you again, something like "It felt good for me too, darling. No need to be shy," but really, his assessment of the situation couldn't be further from the truth. He couldn't get the words out before you begin unbuttoning the top of your blouse, slowly and alluringly allowing the fabric to slip off of you. You can't see him, but you can practically feel his eyes burning a hole through you; he's got to be fucking you with his eyes by now. You peer over your shoulder as you slip your bra straps off of them, and oh my god, the look on his face. He's basically salivating at the sight of you and you're not even fully naked yet. You sneak him a cheeky smile and unclasp the last of the hooks on your bra, letting the article fall to the floor. He grabs at his throbbing cock while shuffling in his seat when he realizes how his pants are fitting much too tight right now. He badly wants to reach forward and turn you around so he can get a full view of your front, but before he can even get up from his chair, you're already slowly pulling your pants down to reveal the black lacy underwear underneath. Every obscene word he's ever known is threatening to leave his lips all at once and ruin his eloquent reputation — he can only contain himself by running his fingers through his hair; an act of self-soothing. You turn around in an unhurried pace leaving him to wait with bated breath, waiting to catch the full glimpse of you. And when you're fully exposed, he's completely awestruck.

"Stunning. Absolutely stunning," he praises, shaking his head in disbelief. You've never smiled wider than now as you watch him scan every part of you up and down. Still facing him, you sit yourself upon the bed. "Wanna take these off for me?" you say while darting your eyes down to your panties. Grinning from ear to ear, he gets up and walks toward you in response. You fully extend your arm and with an open palm, stopping him from approaching. "Hm actually, nope. It's your turn now," you chide. "Show me what I'm working with first."

He lets out a chuckle at your command, but he's quick to oblige. "As you wish, sweetheart." You can't even get yourself to hate the little nickname he attaches at the end of his sentence — it just sounds so sexy when he's stripping down in front of you like this. He expertly unbuttons his shirt to reveal his muscular body. You hope that your inner thoughts can remain hidden because right now, they're screaming about how incredibly attractive he is. You would have bet that he'd be well in shape but god, he's a work of art. Much like yours, his shirt falls to the floor with a light thud, allowing you to take in his every feature. He's so hot, it's almost unfair. Soon, the sound of his belt buckle being undone echoes around the room. He stops himself after unbuttoning the top of his pants before looking at you, "Is this what you're looking for?" gesturing his eyes towards his bulge. Swallowing thickly, you mumble as clever of a response you can muster, "Maybe, not bad so far." He knows you're lying through your teeth by the way you bite your lip, how your eyes track his hands as he slowly slips his pants down past his waist. Your lips are raw and slightly swollen from how much you've had to bite down on them today because your pride truly depends on it. But the moment his pants hit the floor, your pride seems to matter much, much less than your need to have him entirely.

You're too mesmerized by his near naked body that you hardly notice he's standing right in front of you now, leaning inches over you with his arms supporting his weight upon the bed. Face to face with one another, you stare into each other's eyes intensely — anticipating the next move. "Well, what are you waiting for?" you say with a provoking smile, "Take these off of me." He dives in for a kiss, one that leaves you breathless and lightheaded. Before long, he's placing kisses down your body, grazing his fingers over your nipples to make you squirm beneath him. His hands tease around your body until they land themselves under near the waistband of your underwear, and with a swift tug, he pulls them past your ankles. Instinctively, you want to close your legs to shield yourself from exposure, but his hands are already placed upon your knees, preventing you from covering the view he wants to see so badly. And what a view it is. The sight of your pretty wet pussy makes him swear under his breath.

"Fuck..." he curses softly then quickly clears his throat to conceal his profanity, "So perfect." He runs his fingers from your knee up to the inside of your thighs, itching to reach your centre. His touch sends shivers down your spine — you just can't believe this actually happening. You've touched yourself an embarrassing amount of times to this fantasy and now, his hand is gently resting upon your pelvis. Any animosity you think you had for him has disappeared almost entirely as you quiver beneath him. He hovers his hand over your desperate cunt for what feels like an eternity before he looks up at you to ask, "may I?" At the nod of your head, he glides two fingers over your slit. A loud moan unabashedly escapes your mouth and he strokes from your entrance up to your clit. His calloused fingers are both rough and sickeningly soft at the same time, it's all too much to bear. You subconsciously reach out to the hand dipped between your thighs, trying to restrain him from sending you over your limit. This only prompts him to apply more pressure to your clit, gently rubbing circles around the bud. Your hips uncontrollably buck against his movements and he just watches. Watches how you throw your head back in pleasure and how you desperately try to hang on to your bearings. He's going to have to check his ego later, because it's absolutely being stroked by the way you convulse from his touch.

He just can't help it. Your slick just coats his fingers so perfectly, he just has to plunge them inside your needy cunt. That's what you're waiting for, isn't it? It must be, by the way you let him slide in his digits in with such ease. His fingers are are so much longer and thicker than yours; they fill your pussy so much deeper than you can by yourself. Just two fingers is all is takes to arch your back in pleasure and grab a fistful of his bedding for stability. You're already losing your mind, but this is just a sign for him to keep plunging in and out of you. A sign for him to curl his fingers upward as he pumps them inside your cunt, coaxing your orgasm out from the deepest parts of you. Oh god. You can definitely feel it now. Your high is clawing its way out with every push into your core. It's too fucking good, is all you can think but your lewd cries are begging for more. Begging for more fullness, begging for his cock to bury itself deep inside you. Setting aside your pride, you muster a pitiful plea that targets his primal instincts, "P-please." Your tone makes him stop, yet his fingers are still buried to the knuckle inside you to feel how you clench around him. The headstrong adventurer beneath him has been reduced to a meek little lamb, and his hero's intuition wants to soothe the small voice that's begging for his attention.

"What is it, angel? Are you not satisfied?" he asks softly, lightly scissoring his two fingers inside you. "Please what? I can't help you if you don't tell me." His words would usually suggest he's teasing you but the way he's caressing your cheek has you thinking that he is actually looking to offer you some relief. So you answer him in kind by reaching out with both of your hands, caressing his face and breathily pleading, "Please...let me ride you. I wanna feel you." Placing a soft but deep kiss on your lips, he catches the whines falling from your mouth when he frees his fingers from inside you. "As you wish," he obediently assures you against your open mouth. You stare at the ceiling, panting erratically to calm yourself from the loss of stimulation. Meanwhile, Lance is already positioning himself to lay flat on the bed, his head at the top of the headrest. The bed's shifting weight snaps you back down to earth, just enough for you to turn around for the sight that, quite literally, lays before you.

He's pulled down his underwear to reveal his thick, throbbing cock — patiently waiting for you to mount him just like you asked to. For a moment, you're just stuck. Completely hypnotized by his length, your mind races with thoughts of him entirely enveloped inside you. The hunger in your eyes must have been enough of a clue to him, because now he holds himself by the shaft for you to ogle at. Then, as if your body is moving on its own, you slowly approach him. Presenting your hips on his lap until your slit is mere inches away from his dick. You're just taking the time to admire his length, but your hesitance is like torture. You're so close to him, yet so far away. The way your pretty pussy is drenching his thighs tempts him to bully himself into you, but suddenly your hand reaches for his tip. He sharply exhales as you palm the head of his cock, making his whole length glisten in his precum. Just moments ago, he was fingering you to submission, but now, he's at your mercy. Gripping the shaft, you grind his wetted tip against your clit; mixing your wetness with his. You'd revel in the way you make him shudder for much longer, but your own patience is reaching its end. Your knees planted on each of his sides, you guide him to your entrance.

"Come get what you asked for," he begs with a growl, his voice bellowing from the recesses of his throat, "give it to m-" His words end abruptly when you lower yourself onto his length. "Holy shit," you whisper — his tip has barely entered your wet hole yet you feel yourself being stretched by his size. He's groaning and gripping your thighs tightly from the way your cunt squeezes him. You place your hands on his abs for support to push his thick cock deeper and deeper into you, all the while trying to ignore the jolts of pleasure coursing through you. And with a soft clap of your ass on his thighs and pained moan from his mouth, he's entirely inside you — pulsing and throbbing against your cervix. His girth fills you so perfectly that your legs start to shake. You're already so drunk on his cock that your words come out slurred, just barely coherent. "Big..." you lazily mumble, making him hum in response. "It's so...big." Utter overwhelm washes over you both, so much so that you can't muster the strength to tease each other. Completely humbled by the pleasure of just being connected.

You're both still for a moment, like you've made a silent agreement to savour the feeling — not daring to move at the risk of reaching your peaks before the fun had begun. But every second you wait allows you to feel how he fills you to the brim, his shape moulding into you. He's not doing much better, not when your needy cunt is threatening to milk him dry. As soon as you feel accustomed to his size, you ask for his permission to move, echoing back his earlier gesture, "may I?" His hands find place above your hips, his eyes fixed with furrowed brows to where you're connected. Finally, he grants your wish, "Please."

Lifting yourself up by the knees, you pull yourself to his tip just to ease him back into you. A mess of slick leaking out of you as you push his hard cock into your depths. The first thrust is intense but oh so addicting. So you lift yourself up again, this time, lowering yourself with more enthusiasm. The sound of your dripping cunt smacking into his base is quickly followed by a slew of groans from both your mouths. The sounds, the heat, the rollercoaster of pleasure…it's so hard not to indulge in it all. So, naturally indulge is exactly what you do. You lock into a rhythm, bouncing up and down on his dick like it was made for you. The caution in your movements have long disappeared as you grind and rock his length into you over and over again. The sight below you just encourages you to fuck him into you with more fervour, plunging his cock as deep as your pussy allows. Lance looks into your eyes like he worships you, heaving and muttering profanities under his breath. Can you really blame him? His view of you is tantalizing; your greedy cunt gushes all over him as his cock disappears inside you, tits bouncing at your rhythm, and your face. God, your face has him going feral with admiration of you. So honest and revealing of how much you've wanted him this whole time.

Your pace is becoming off-beat the closer and closer to cumming you get. A small part of you was clinging onto the hope that you'd make him cum first, but that plan is damned by how good it feels. I don't care anymore — I just wanna fucking cum, you think as you bring a hand to your puffy clit, rubbing rough circles around it. You're so goddamn close but your legs are giving out before you can feel your release, just edging you away from your orgasm. But like he can interpret your petulant whines, he lifts you by your waist and bucks his hips violently upward into your spasming cunt to resume the pace. "Don't slow down now," he commands with ragged breath; his sentence fragmented by his careless thrusts into you, "You're so close, I can feel it. Don't stop, cum for me." He fucks up into you with so much strength that you reach one arm backward to hold on his thigh for stability, the other listening to his demands and rubbing you anxiously toward your orgasm. The clapping of your bodies get faster and faster, then suddenly, it stops. Only the sound of his name echoes around the room and he rocks deeply into you through your orgasm. Your head is thrown back as you convulse wildly on his cock, still nestled against your cervix. It's the only thing you can feel as the earth shatters around you. You're only brought down to reality by his soft coos entering your ears, "that's it, angel. That's it."

Your body slumps weakly as the tension slips away. Leaning forward, he presses kisses on your neck, whispering praises against your skin. Praising you for how well you took it, for how good you're being right now. Even if all he could do today is make you reach your high, he'd be more than satisfied. That's why it's so surprising when you turn yourself around and bend your tired body before him. Your face rests steadily on the bed as you gently wiggle your hips to invite him in. You can't see it, but his face lights up into a wide grin. "My god, you're insatiable," he teases, giving your ass a light smack as he lines himself up to you. Even in your fucked out bliss, you find the strength to tease him back, "Gotta finish what I started, don't I?" Without much thought, he shoves his cock back into you with rough thrusts. Your overstimulated pussy takes him back with ease, letting him plow harder and harder into you. Your muffled cries sink into the sheets as he pounds you, you can't hear anything but the sounds of sex and his grunts. He leans over to whisper to you, now thrusting deeper than he could before, "Don't worry, I'm c-close. So…close." You're so eager to please, you lean backward into him, coaxing him closer to his own orgasm. He moans louder and louder until one word signals his impending high, "Y-yes…" He was so close to filling you before he pulls out, spilling his cum on your back while he strokes the top of his dick. With gravelly groans, he lets his hot seed spurt out of him, covering your backside in white.

Still leaning forward on you, he rests his sweat-covered forehead near the nape of your neck, spreading hot breath down your spine. And just like the way you started, you fall back into the silent agreement of stillness. The thick air in the room slowly thins as your breathing grows slower, and slower in pace. You shiver from the cool air of his body leaving yours, only to have him return to wipe you clean with a cloth from his nightstand. Once he wipes you down, he tosses the cloth to his desk and lays himself beside you. Rolling over to look at the ceiling, you find yourself perfectly parallel to him; your shoulder just grazing his. The moment is both awkward yet comforting — lying quietly beside him as you wrap your head around about the night's events. It's rare for you to find peace within each other's company like this, so neither of you decide to break the silence for some time.

Your eyes begin to flutter closed until his voice spurs you awake, "Well, I was certainly not expecting this today," he chuckles, "But I'm not foolish enough to complain." For once, you laugh alongside him. "Yeah, but you are foolish enough to get seduced by me," you snicker. He perches himself up by the elbows to beam at you, "Is that so? Am I incorrect in assuming you enjoyed it too, hm?" he probes, hoping to call you out on your bluff. With a hiss leaving your gritted teeth, you admit, "Ha, yeah. Fine. You're not wrong... But don't get used it." You smile at the ceiling with your eyes closed, amused by your back and forth. Even with your eyes closed, you can tell he's still looking you until you feel him lie back down beside you. He's just staring at the ceiling too, pondering his next words carefully.

"Well, that is a shame. If I'm honest, I wouldn't mind this being a regular occurrence." You wish you could stop yourself from smiling at his admission but it's impossible — there is simply no restraint left in you to hold back. He continues on, "But, if you'd rather this be an isolated incident, I'll honour your wishes. It'll be hard to forget tonight, but I will try my best to do so."

You let out a deep sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose with your index and thumb. You take a few seconds to listen to the arguing voices in your mind. On one hand, this was totally unexpected and definitely not what you intended when you started the confrontation. You're still a little scorned from his nitpicking over the past few months, but is there really a way to go back to where you two were before? On the other hand, god, you needed this. You've sworn yourself off relationships for a while the moment you packed your life away from the city. You just want a simple life where the only drama you have is from adrenaline-fuelled adventuring. But nearly two years into the valley, your fingers and toys are hardly enough to satisfy you. You've got needs too, don't you? And yeah, fine. You admit, you couldn't ask for a better person to meet your needs if you tried. The prideful side of you wants to scoff and shoo him away, but every other part of you knows exactly what you want.

Against your better judgement, you blurt out, "Okay…so what if this was a regular occurrence?" Wait, did you just say that out loud? Well, it's too late now to take a step back isn't it? He's already looking at you with his eyebrow raised, so you continue, "I mean…I'm not sure if I want a relationship right now, exactly. But…" It's your turn to perch yourself on your elbows to look at him.

"Okay, look. You're busy all the time, and so am I. But we're adults with needs, right? So how about we continue—whatever this is—no feelings attached, hm? No need for labels or expectations, just two adults blowing off steam." God, this is embarrassing. You've never attempted a relationship like this before and now you're trying to establish one with the guy you swear you hated up until an hour ago? What the fuck am I doing? Doubts start creeping on you again, nearly causing you to spit out a mess of words to take back everything you offered, but he cuts in before you can.

"Hm…yes. I think this arrangement would work for me," he ponders with a hand to his chin, not noticing your mouth agape from his agreement. "I am busy, that much is true. With my schedule, a committed relationship hasn't been able to fit in with my lifestyle. And it would be ideal to do such things with someone I could trust…" his sentences trail off with a lilt, as if he's thinking out loud before trailing off.

You catch him off guard and complete his thought, you sit up to face him and extend your right hand. "So is it a deal?"

Sitting up to match your height, he stares at you for a moment, contemplating what he's about to get himself into. Then, he cheekily smirks and with a firm grip on your hand, he seals the agreement.

"It's a deal."

PART ONE — EPILOGUE

Marlon grunts as he lifts himself up from the edge of his boat, stretching out his aching knee from the lengthy voyage. It's no secret that the adventurer is getting older, but these trips are still a breeze for him — minus the small tinges of pain from his joints, of course. After laying down his anchor and tying the ship to the dock, he retrieves his lantern among his belongings to make his way up to the outpost tower. The Highlands is his last stop to report to after his meeting with the Castle Village Guard. The sun has just dipped below the horizon now, so he hopes it won't be too much trouble to ask to rest up in the guard tower before setting sail again.

Once he reaches the top of the steps, he notices that Lance isn't stationed in his usual spot by the balcony. This is an uncommon sight, but not unheard of. More than likely, it usually means he's locked in focus with his research inside. But as Marlon approaches the tower, he's alarmed by loud groans sounds coming from within the room. Resting his hand against his scabbard, he slowly approaches the door, so as to not alert whatever creature has made its way into the outpost. Carefully stepping inches within the door, he gently places his ear against the wood before pulling quickly away. "Oh for fuck's sake," he mutters, his face now red with embarrassment. He released his grip on his weapon to plant his face firmly into his palm. Quickly stepping away from the tower, he mumbles annoyedly under his breath, "It's about fucking time."

Climbing back into the boat at the docks, he decides he'll just sleep there instead. Looks like Marlon has a long night ahead of him, at least until you finish up and notice him in the morning.

—

END OF PART 1/2

[mamadovie]

May I request a Miraak and female reader where Miraak became obsessed with reader when he was still an apprentice dragon priest and she’s the daughter of a jarl or some noble?

Thank you!

𐙚 . . . MIRAAK.

A N: I love this idea, ngl. Also. The term 'obsessed' can be phrased in different ways. The literal term, or a watered down and romanticised version... So I hope I wrote this in the way you meant it to be.

A B O U T: Miraak just can't keep his eyes off you!

W A R N I N G S: None. Minor obsessive behaviour, but nothing crazy.

It all derived from an innocent crush, you must believe him. An infatuation, if you will, but yet innocent still.

He hadn't met someone like you before; he was always so preoccupied, too busy to look beyond the lense of knowledge. Until he made eyes on you, that it.

A simple morning, Skyrim's frosty air lingered like a papercut. His hands shivered under the worn gloves he had been gifted many years ago — he couldn't remember by who exactly. But he treasured them, nevertheless. His back stung with weariness from travel and his backpack.

It wasn't his first time in Windhelm, but it was his first time actually taking in the scenery. Bleak, as famously known. But still held an essence of wonder — cold and brilliant with so much history between its walls.

But who am I kidding? He wasn't looking at the walls or its history.

He was looking at you.

A noble; adorned in red silks, from Cyrodiil he wondered for a brief moment. Your hair: neat and styled professionally. Neck decorated with jewels, expensive jewels. You weren't just a simple noble, you were important. But that didn't matter. Not when your eyes met. By the Gods, how his heart rattled against his ribcage.

From that day forward, he found out as much as he could about you. You were a nobleperson from Cyrodiil, with an Imperial father and unknown mother. You were raised in wealth and love. Owning vineyards in the beautiful rural lands beside Skingrad, manors in the coastal city of Anvil. Travelling across the world, expanding business and hopefully meeting the one.

You didn't want an arranged marriage, he knew that. He read it in your diary. You left it on a bench in Riften, you really should be wary! Those pesky thieves could have snatched it... its a good job Miraak was there, watching, to help you... any weirdo could have read it!

He didn't pass it by hand, no way. He slid it under your door. He didn't want to he found.

For you to realise his face wasn't just a reoccurring dream, he was in fact a reality.

He never showed face, never said hello. He just watched and followed. But, he did make a deal with himself: once powerful, he will make you his. He knew your father wouldn't allow it.

Until then, he'll linger in the shadows, wanting.

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko Ch 160 thoughts

I think I'll start this out with a jump scare.

Imagine this guy showing up at your door trying to sell you a nice new set of kitchen knives. I'd take ten.

The above image is so ghoulish that I'd be tempted to see it as just Aqua's distorted perception of his father, not a mask off moment where Hikaru morphed into Slenderman

But I have no confidence that this chapter didn't just toss Hikaru's character development in the bin

A well-executed twist following a twist should be satisfying but rather than getting a nice "aha" moment, I'm just getting whiplash

Even though I don't like it, I guess I can buy a heartbroken and jaded Hikaru who subtly manipulated Ryosuke into becoming more unhinged and later influenced Nino to do his dirty work

Although I don't think Ryosuke needed any help being a dumpster fire of a human and Nino really has nobody to blame but herself

But then what were chapters 154 and 155 about?

The mess that was HkAi is so compelling to me. I find their relationship sweet and tragic. It was a disaster that could have become something lovely if they weren't such fragile people already deeply wounded at a young age

In order for Hikaru's realization that Ai loved him to be as impactful as it is, then "I'm going to do what I can for Ai" can't be a lie

Which means he can't have wanted to hurt Ruby after watching the DVD

Which means that we're gonna keep spinning in circles about Hikaru's culpability and motives until Akasaka lets us off this ride

We've gone from "Aqua delivered a revenge worse than death to an already self-destructive man" to "oh, I guess that meant nothing. Time to have a knife fight"

And then there's the below panel. The worst thing Hikaru said about Ai was that she was a normal girl who could be cruel. Now she's standing next to a very accusatory speech bubble

"Make people obey you?" Hikaru wouldn't think that of Ai post 154

I wouldn't be surprised if he's just winding Aqua up because he has a death wish, but I think that's just me trying to cope

I've been waiting a very long time for "you're just like me" from Hikaru to Aqua but it would have been more effective if the panels supposedly showing Aqua's power to charm didn't seem to have been chosen at random

Can I just say, this panel makes me uncomfortable:

It's hard to think of Ruby wholeheartedly singing love songs to sweaty 20-something men, and the way Ai and B Komachi started doing so when they were just children, and not feel weird

OnK does a wonderful job portraying the good things about idol fandom alongside the heinously toxic things, but it's so heavily weighted on the good side with Ruby that it sometimes makes me think Ai's death at the hands of an obsessive idol otaku who believed she couldn't be a real person because she sang love songs to her fans was a fever dream

And I know this is Aqua's image of Ruby, but it just seems like we're completely ignoring the arc where she went into full on manipulation mode (like father like daughter, I guess)

Anyway, the standout moments of this chapter were that Ai drew a heart on her toothbrush and the below panel. The little Hoshino family melts my ugly, deceptive heart

Christ. I haven't even mentioned Aqua's big ass knife

Aqua won't stab anyone. Just maybe do some light slashing

There is a blatant retcon about Nino and Ryosuke at the hospital because Crow Girl said there was a middle school aged boy there. The only ways this could not be a retcon is if Hikaru lied, Crow Girl lied, or crows really can't see well at night

Next chapter: Hikaru lets Aqua stab him but it bounces off because Nino, who wanted to protect her buddy, secretly made his suit knife proof. Ai's toothbrush turns out to be pivotal to the plot because if only she had used an electric toothbrush as dentists recommend, none of this would have happened.

[vulnonapix1234]

Consider: Captain Marvel Villian arc, but Billy Batson's heart stays pure.

Like Amanda Waller finds out his secret identity after bribing some of his villains for his secret identity.

She catches him when he is his child-self and muzzles him to make sure he wouldn't be able to turn.

He's experimented on, in an try to find a logical explanation for his magic.

Through it all his instincts/the godly Twitch chat scream at him to murder all the scientists and escape, but Billy finds himself unable to do that.

It's just not right for his child brain.

Especially since none of the scientists seem to want to hurt him.

He remembers his hands being held as some of his blood is taken, his hair getting petted as he is put to sleep, how they give him books and toys and blankets so he would bedistracted from the pain.

These people weren't evil. They where just doing their jobs.

Slowly he learned and watched the things around him.

There were others like him. Test subjects. People that needed help.

Most of the scientists weren't allowed to leave and those who were wore trackers. They where prisoners.

One day, the scientists made a "mistake", by not securing the muzzle right.

(He saw the way the doctor looked at him. He knew. He knew and allowed him to leave)

Captain Marvel was powerful. A being that could easily devour a god.

Destroying the facility was easy. Saving all those prisoners was even easier.

Some, he returned to their home and took away all of their memories.

Others, he made disappear, changing everything about them so they could start anew.

The rest he took home with him. Those he saw fit to share a drop of his power with to protect others.

He comes home like a father that returned from war. Captain Marvels appearance has changed in the time he was gone.

Still, his heart stayed as pure as it was before.

He still remembers the name of his people, their struggles, the things they like.

He still helps the old ladies cross the streets, plays with the children of the town and protects all those who might need it.

But many things changed aswell.

The magical world has gone out of its rails after he disappeared.

Billy was a child of magic and his disappearing was upsetting.

It was the Captains duty to bring balance to it.

And so he did.

He bathed in blood and iron to do what is right.

To save those around him.

To do good, as good will follow.

As the magic was in disarray, he gently gave it a sense of order back.

He took and gave powers how he saw fit and brought stability.

This stability changed the world fundamentally.

___________________________________

Captain Marvel became a dangerous being with an army of magic powered mini hims and a soul of gold.

He will help those who need it. Even those who don't want it.

He can recreat you as easily as he can recreate the world.

[princesssmars]

in love with the parrs

being the additional parent to the incredibles family.

wc : 2.452

contains : fluff, poly relationship, mentions of violence and fighting bc superhero business, and angst. reader kinda has the powers of starfire bc it was hard to leave them blank for the reader to pick i'm sorry :')

*helen's dialogue is italicized and bobs is emboldened bc tumblr wont let me use the colored words without some dumb 4096 character limit warning.

a/n: i mostly just need helen bad but ill take the big guy 2 for 1 special. this has been in my drafts since late 2021 i suck at this writing shit.

you met helen and bob on a mission a little after the start of your hero career; your manager thought your abilities matched well with theirs, and it'd be great way to boost your popularity. so, wanting to make more connections and break out onto the hero scene, you agreed.

before meeting them your nerves were a bit on edge, their reputations definitely having proceeded them. but when you were first introduced it went great, helen being sweet and affirming to you while bob was telling you how he had seen and admired your work.

the mission went great, your powers a good mix to complement theirs. between ranged blasts to help helen from afar, using your energy to fly in and rescue any injured civilians, to using your powers in close combat along with bob when the villain showed up and decided to get bold and take you both on. after dealing with the villain, more hurt and thankful civilians and the brief press interview for the live news crew, helen pulled you both off to the side.

she remarked how that went way better than she expected, complimenting your powers and ability to adapt with hers and bobs. the hulking hero agrees, saying he wouldn't mind working with you again.

after that it was history. after various stealth missions with elastigirls and training with bob, you found yourself catching feelings for both of the renowned heroes. given that this was the 40s, poly relationships weren't exactly the norm so you decided to keep your feelings to yourself.

but one day, after catching up with the two of them on a rooftop, joking about bomb voyage's recent capture and the recent protest with gazerbeam at the forefront, the topic of relationships came up when bob asked you why you "still hadn't found a guy who could handle you yet."

your sudden silence speaks volumes, the look on your face clearly telling them something was wrong. it only takes a soft hand on your shoulder from helen and a "tell us what's wrong, y/n," from bob before your burst into tears, leaning into helen's welcoming embrace. its through tears and hiccups that you confess how you feel to them both, telling them how you've been trying to hide how you feel but its getting harder and harder with time and seeing that they clearly have feelings for each other.

none of you speak for a while, the hustle and bustle of the city below you filling the silence. most of you wants to disappear, to bolt and never face them again if it means you wont feel as embarrassed as you do now.

but the embarrassment goes away when bobs large hands wrap around the both of, speaking lowly into your hair and reassuring you to help calm you down. after your breathing slows and they're sure you wont bust out into tears, they tell you that they are so sorry you've been dealing with all of this alone, that its true that they've been together a while. but what really makes you raise your head is when they tell you that they have feelings for you as well.

itd be nice to say things get easier after this but its the opposite. its made better by the support of your friends, family and partners, but balancing the stress of a relationship with your job brings on so many problems that at night you find yourself thinking if its even possible to have both. but whenever you have doubts, helen is there to talk about it while you both make some new recipe you heard about and bob is there to make dumb jokes to cheer you up while you both go to the new movie at the theater.

everything is made better but confusing with the engagement. bob proposes to both of you and you all say yes to each other, both of them telling you their plan of them getting married 'publicly' and having an even more private ceremony for all three of you. after the wedding, you're even going to all move in together.

the day of the wedding you decide not to go on call, focusing on the wedding since you know the bride and groom will be busy most of the day. its a good (and sweet) thing hel made you the maid of honor so you could help her take care of everything. its slightly irritating but expected when bob shows up late, the ceremony short but sweet.

the married bliss doesn't last long with the incoming lawsuits against bobs and supes in general, and just like that your world is turned upside down.

fifteen years, three kids and countless moves later, you've settled in the suburbs of metroville. its simple and completely different than your superhero days, except for the few times you might have snuck out with bob to stop a robbery but hey, you can take the super out of the hero but not the hero out of the super. or whatever dumb thing he told you. when you weren't sneaking out and technically breaking the law you'd be at home with helen, taking care of the kids and the house. you're lucky your kids were as interesting as they are; dash is energetic, violet snarky, and jack jack is the giggliest baby and always laughing at something.

while life wasn't perfect, it was alright.

things started changing with bobs promotion, the whole family benefitting from the increase in money, with just you and your loves benefitting in the bedroom...you were a bit suspicious, asking bob if this had anything to do with his desire to rekindle his heroism, but he just denies it and tells you that "lucks finally on our side."

but helen has always been very keen, and she brings you along with her to a trip up to ednas in denial about bobs whereabouts. you sadly find out that she was right about her suspicions, and in your guilt you admit you knew about bob listening to the police scanners and fighting crime, even joining in yourself. you can tell shes disappointed but decides to focus her energy on finding your husband after you reaffirm (and edna literally smacks) her that she is elastigirl and she can do this.

its after the revelation and edna sending you both home with a tracker and new supersuits for the whole family that you both start to pack, but not before being interrupted by your ever curious kids. a favor from an old friend later and you two are on a jet to the island that bobs been tracked to. aside from helen doing the standard pilot call ins its silence, your revelation from earlier still causing tension until she finally breaks the silence,"i just wish you would've told me. yes, i would've gotten mad but for good reason. with bob always at work its just you and me at home and we're our own little team, y'know? i just..im just scared-" she interrupts herself with a sigh, passing glances to you and her carryon containing her suits.

"they haven't responded in a while. ill put this baby on autopilot and we can head to the bathroom and put our suits on." you give a small smile at her request, taking the bad and getting up after her to follow her inside. "im sorry. i should have told you." comes from your mouth in a soft whisper from behind her, looking into the mirror so her tired eyes look into yours. you raise a hand to lay on her shoulder, waiting for her gentle nod before you place it there. she rubs it with hers and just nods at you from the mirror.

"you and me against the world, right el?" "heh, more like me and you against our husband."

after you both finish putting on your suits, helen moves to toss the empty canvas bag onto one of the empty passenger seats when the air above the seat lets out a "ow!"

"violet!" helen exclaims before violet breaks into a rushed excuse of how dash had stowed away first before she followed after him knowing she would get blamed for it. her words cant be told after that since dash comes up from a seat farther down the aisle and starts yelling how shes lying. your heart stops and you question them if they left jack jack alone, and then both of them are complaining to you that "of course we got a sitter, ma."

you try not to giggle at helen on the phone with kari, the girl who sometimes comes over to study with violet and can talk for hours straight if you gave her the chance. but shes harmless, so youre put a bit at ease that your baby is with the girl. even if he could potentially be a ticking time bomb.

the rest doesn't last long with the incoming missiles heading right toward you, helen frantically trying to alert whoever is behind them that you aren't a threat while you hug the kids close to you as the plane dips and spins. but she's unsuccessful in convincing and your daughter cant manage to make a force field, helen rushing to warp her body around you before the plane is struck.

the next thing you see is violets face is over yours and the clouds are passing by, raising your head to see dash running on water. you let your head relax with a long drawn out sigh. "your dad better have a damn good explanation for this."

its hours later when you all reach land, helen spent after staying in one form for so long and dash after running non stop. once you all collect your bearings and start a small fire in a cave, helen decides to go look for bob and asks you to stay with the kids.

its a quiet hour of dash staring at the fire while vi practices her force fields before your son grabs a torch and asks you to go with him while he looks around, reluctantly agreeing he can go explore the cave a bit.

turning back to vi, you see her gazing into the flames with a scrunched brow before you scoot closer to her, making sure to keep a few inches of space knowing she prefers it.

"when i was younger, i barely used my powers." you see her head tilt towards you at your voice; loud in the near empty cave. "hell, i didn't even want to use them much before i first started. they're powerful but dangerous, and if i didn't train them i would've gotten a lot of people hurt."

"is there a point to this because sorry ma but its not really making me feel better," violet speaks up, mumbling out a "sorry." when she sees you staring at her.

"it wasn't just physical training i needed. i mean yes, it helped a lot, but i needed to prepare myself mentally as well. superpowers can be a gift and also a curse, and its up to you which one you want yours to be more."

she's silent for a few minutes, but you can tell she's mulling over your words in her mind. in the distance you hear an echo of "cool!" before the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps and the light of something big and bright comes to you, dash dragging you and violet by the hands out of the cave as a blast of fire leaves the cave, and what looks like a rocket leaves the island.

you decide to find somewhere to rest after this, laying on the canopy floor with dash and vi on either side. eventually sunlight peaks through the forest canopy and awakes you, turning to see the adorable sight of dash cuddling to his big sister. a few seconds later dash wakes up and leaps off of her in disgust, causing you to giggle at his reaction.

"you didn't see anything, ok ma?"

"whatever you say, champ."

"identification, please." a bird...speaks? from behind you, dash looking at it in amazement while you look on in confusion. he wakes up his sister before you can stop him, and the sound of an alarm causes you to hurry and rush the kids to run in the opposite direction.

armed men with guns corner you, encouraging dash to run away while you strike down some of the flying saucers. while fighting you lose track of violet, running in the direction you think she went when you run into bob and helen. they look like they were just in the middle of a fight (well helen does, bob looks overjoyed), and when bob tries to move in for a hug you punch him in the shoulder. "if this was your idea of a family vacation its a really shitty one, honey."

heading together deeper into the forest, you're run over by a big purple mass and rolled over and under it, eventually coming to a stop in one big mass with you're family.

the bliss doesn't last long when more saucers appear and the whole family fights together, then being stopped by the gauntlets of some crazed looking redhead.

he imprisons all of you, doing the whole villain explains his whole plan shtick. lets just say he didn't appreciate it when you pretended to snore.

but violets powers manage to let her escape and free all of you, her appreciating your proud smile.

you all take a rocket and a van back to metroville, planning to stop syndrome and his big dumb robots for good.

the fight is long and hard, but with the help of the whole family and frozone the robot is finally stopped.

but the recurring theme of the week being nothing staying normal for long, you listening in with helen to karis voicemails of her worries about jack jack's behavior. you get bob to listen in when she calmly tells you she's thankful for the replacement babysitter. rushing into the house you see the red haired devil of syndrome holding your sleeping infant in his arms, bolting into the air.

but jack jack manages to stall syndrome long enough for helen to be thrown to him and the villain is sucked into the jet of his rocket.

three months later you're all in the stands of dash's first real track meet, and you couldn't be prouder at second place.

youre peace is broken by the underminer declaring war on peace and happiness and blah blah blah, but looking to your family gearing up for another fight, you're pretty sure you've got it handled.

.

.

.

ok so yeah this took. quite a while. i was going to do both movies in one but i just want to get this out now so its only the first one. its pretty clear when i started watching the movie alongside it but i hope its not too werid. idk i love self insert rewrites. thanks for reading <333

[shares-a-vest]

@eddiemonth Day 8: Rockstar, Confident

Word Count: 952 Rating: T | cw: No Happy Ending, Break-Up Fic, No Resolution, Hurt No Comfort My first post for Eddie Month! With this event's prompts, I reallyyy want to challenge myself and write things I typically wouldn't/haven't so far. I'm sorry for starting out a week late with a no-happy-ending fic, I didn't mean for it to work out this way ����😅 Thanks to both Lex and Lex for creating and hosting this event 💖💖💖

Since he was a boy, listening to a healthy combination of his mother's records and any and every radio station his dad could tune into, Eddie dreamed of being a rockstar.

When he was six, his grandma gifted him a battery-operated plastic microphone with sound effects. Later when he first moved in with his uncle and the Munson family had dwindled down to just the two of them, Wayne brought home an acoustic guitar from Goodwill.

Eddie practised and played away, sometimes for hours too long until underdeveloped callouses stung and bled. Wayne helped him paint 'This Machine Slays Dragons' on it so he could be just like Woody Guthrie, one of his mom's favourites.

He soon found his fellow bandmates in Jeff, Gareth and George. Gareth offered up his garage and Jeff came up with the name Corroded Coffin. Eddie and George made merch and drew up posters.

They practised and played until Gareth's mother kicked them out of the garage, complaining about what the neighbours might think of their noisy metal thrashing. They entered the Battle of the Bands contest in middle school, then started playing at The Hideout perhaps a few years too early for a handful of drunks who probably weren't listening anyway.

Then they spent the next few years scrimping and saving between jobs, travelling to other towns in his shitty van until they found an even shittier (but bigger) van and a studio that was willing to give them a booking to record a demo.

They shopped it around for a good long while as Eddie turned on his charm.

And one day they got a chance.

George called Eddie, frantically talking about a producer who wanted to re-record the demo with an expert on hand, all the while promising more music and a meeting with a potential manager.

And if all that wasn't enough, Eddie found himself with none other than Steve Harrington by his side.

After a good few years of pining and failed dates and the temporary comfort of other people, they finally got their act together. It was Christmas, just a few months after the demo got picked up. They kissed out on Claudia Henderson's front porch with snow falling around them as they promised each other more.

Then Corroded Coffin made it.

The perks came fast. Money – oh-so-much fucking money! Private cars and drivers to take them anywhere they wanted. Touring around the world and sightseeing between gigs. Adoring fans. Photoshoots. Magazine covers, interviews and TV spots.

Eddie always maintained it was about the music, though. The rush, the confidence and power it gave him to be performing on stage. Whether it be The Hideout or a goddamn stadium. It filled his soul from the moment he stepped on stage until the band finished their encore.

But most of all, he had Steve by his side. Always.

Until he didn't.

Until the night he got back to their hotel room, a swanky penthouse overlooking New York City that they always stayed in. They were barely a night out from returning back to the States from a quick promo tour in Europe for the new album.

Steve had left a note scrawled in his messy handwriting on the hotel's branded notepad.

'Going to Robin's' is all it said.

Eddie was angry at the time. He balled the note up in his fist and hurled it across the room.

At the time he was pissed because Steve was acting all bitchy pouty at the airport after barely speaking a word to him the whole flight. Then he was tapping away incessantly on the limo's middle armrest the whole car ride, looking at the window with his stupid Tom Cruise sunglasses on.

At the time he guessed it had something to do with the last night in Amsterdam. The band had a gig, the last one and Eddie just wanted some quiet so he skipped out on dinner, telling their security to pass the message on to Steve.

But it was just a tiff, right? Steve knew what it was like – how exhausting being on the road could get sometimes.

He thought Steve knew what the deal was, that he didn't mean anything by not going to dinner. Hell, Steve was used to a last-minute change of plans after years of this, right?

At least that's what Eddie told himself until Steve didn't call.

Or come back.

So, Eddie called Robin's number. No answer.

Then he asked Jeff to call, even their manager. Still nothing.

A call to Wayne made it real though.

"Eddie," his uncle had sighed, voice low and impossibly disappointed.

And then everything he had gained came to mean nothing.

As Eddie now stands at the door to Robin's apartment in Chicago, he knows he fucked up. Knows that it won't be easily forgiven.

Knows that Robin will probably cut his dick off if she arrives home from... Which gallery had she moved to, again? Steve told him. Weeks ago... months? He thinks...

He should have asked his publicist to look up the name of the gallery along with Buckley's address.

His stomach drops and tears begin to fall as Steve opens the door.

"Oh," his boyfr – Steve – mutters as his brows quickly knit together.

Eddie slaps his hand onto the doorframe, chancing the guy slamming the door shut and thus smooshing his guitar-wielding digits.

But then Steve rips off his wire-framed glasses and presses the heels of his palms into his reddening eyes.

"How could you just forget about me?" he sobs, his whole body shaking.

And Eddie is confident the sound of Steve choking on his own breath as he cries will haunt him for the rest of his life.

[plscallmeeren]

C I T I Z E N S O F W E S T V I E W P T 2

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Request: yep

Summary: part 2 lol (btw I added some things to the request hope you don't mind)

Warnings: absolutely none

Word Count: 1.6K+

Wanda peered through the heavy oak door leading to your apartment, gaze flicking tiredly from one unusual carpet to another Eastern lamp. And yet, as she observed every object and decoration in the place, she realised there really wasn't that much around - less, at least, than in an average home.

"You don't have very much," she said simply, the Sokovian accent she harboured thickening as an urge for sleep faded the edges of her vision. Any energy she usually held for advanced English had already laid down beside her end of the conversation.

"It's all good quality. You'll never believe where I got this light," you replied proudly, gesturing at an orange paper hanging lamp.

"I suppose I wouldn't," she murmured, running smooth hands over the even smoother wood of an old armchair.

Her sight lingered on a rack to her left, standing out with shining blades against the cream of the wall. The longest in the stack of three emanated the unmistakeable atmosphere of magic.

"It's overwhelming, isn't it?" you said softly, sensing her thoughts. "Look, we'll talk more in the morning, I promise, but you're obviously exhausted and I can't say I'm feeling too chirpy myself. It's late. Get some rest first. We'll worry about magic swords in the morning. I promise."

Wanda hesitated, glancing at the sharpened and likely deadly weapons on your wall, but was overcome with a wave of drowsiness so strong she wondered if maybe you were toying with her mind. If so, you had done a mighty good job; making her feel safe, luring her into your home, into vulnerability. But she doubted it - and even if she was wrong, she was sure she could take you.

Then the stroke of genius occurred to her - why not just read your mind? It might tickle, but otherwise people didn't tend to notice if she didn't want them to.

She attempted, slithering past some initial mental barriers every brain requires for sanity's sake, diving deeper-

"I'd be impressed if you could see anything against my will," your voice filled her head, and although your back was turned, she could feel the grin on your face. "You're welcome to try."

"And you think you could get past me?" she challenged, vanity seeping through her as a last resort.

"Yes."

"Try."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Try your hardest."

A flash of images and pasts and thoughts and nightmares flashed beneath Wanda's lids, an array of concepts that made up Plato's idea of her. She had had no idea how powerful the feeling was if a mind-reader allowed their victim to see what they were doing. Nevertheless, although proving how old and deeper knowledge you could dig up, she noticed how it was never anything vulnerable, anything that could hurt. She still couldn't stop you.

You were avoiding them for her sake, even though she had provoked you.

You stopped. You had made your point and that was enough. She stared, but didn't say anything. You had half-expected the unjustified upset and anger of doing what she had said you should, but it never came. She seemed lost for words.

"That was incredible," she projected the thought into your mind, making you smile.

"Come on, I have a spare room."

You led her around the corner of the kitchen and up some stairs, holding the painted door open chivalrously. She curtsied in good humour, passing through.

You handed her a towel silently, refusing her help in making the bed, letting her watch from the desk chair instead. When she thought you weren't looking, you noticed - or maybe you sensed - how much she appreciated someone doing something as simple as making a bed for her.

"Good night," you murmured once she returned from washing up, already folded up underneath the copious covers. You would have offered her clothes, but her breathing had already evened.

It would have been so easy to intrude just a little, just enough to see why she was feeling so unwell. She would never know. But you didn't ever seriously consider it. You couldn't imagine the guilt of breaching her privacy that way.

You closed the door behind you, leaving the small reddened lamp on in case she didn't like the dark.

•••

Wanda awoke with a start.

She had slept peacefully until the nightmares had crept in along the edges, stains of blood and madness dismissing her simple dreams of life as she knew it or other cleansing of the mind. She forgot it all the moment her eyes opened, only Vision's mangled body still imprinted on the inside of her lids when she attempted rest.

She sat up. At the edge of the bed, two folded piles of clothes awaited her. One of them consisted of a red shirt and blue pants (she ignored her thoughts when they wondered which woman you had them from) and the other of a comfy flannelette shirt, sweatpants and woollen socks. She opted for the second.

A part of her was disturbed by the concept of someone being in the room while she was asleep and her not noticing, but still that nonsensical trust and arrogance overruled all else.

The scent of coffee invaded her senses as she grew more aware of her surroundings. It smelled delicious and perfect in that moment.

She wandered downstairs tentatively, stepping lightly in some childish attempt to sneak up on you.

By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was sure she had the element of surprise under control.

"Morning, darling," you greeted smugly, smirking as you briskly turned around, presenting her with a cup of coffee. "Sugar? Milk?"

"Oh, yes, um, both," she muttered, feeling slightly insulted at how she had been noticed.

You nodded, placing the cup on the counter and pulling out all she required. You stepped back so that she could add as much as she wanted herself.

Wanda looked you once up and down, taking note of your black shirt and black sweatpants, the way the melted together at every languid motion you made. You looked like you were dancing as you crossed the kitchen, back and forth, mixing together the batter for pancakes.

"Pancakes? How did you know-" She interrupted herself upon realisation. "You remembered what you saw last night, didn't you? Me eating with my family?" She thought she might cry at the memory of them all, but other than the salty taste of saliva it just felt like a problem of the past.

She couldn't believe how good she felt all things considered. Neither could you.

"Wait- Did you read my mind again before? Is that how you knew I was there?"

"No, love. I don't need telepathy to sense your presence," you humoured, winking at her playfully. She scoffed, but the smile on her face was undeniable.

"And... here," you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, throwing the last pancake onto the plate and flicking the stove off. "Let's sit down, shall we?"

Wanda nodded, taking a seat across from you and snatching two pancakes at once. She could think of at least a hundred questions to ask you, but none of them felt like good opening lines.

Finally, she decided. "Are the decorations Japanese? They look sort of... well, not Western. And you. You look... I'm not sure how you look, but judging by your home, I'm wondering whether you're Japanese also?"

"Yeah. My mother's Japanese, and she raised me, so I'm more used to eastern places and behaviour. By the way, you don't have to hide your accent. I love hearing it."

You had picked up on how her accent had lessened by a mile that morning, feeling a little sad to see it go. She smiled.

"Okay." You could immediately hear the difference.

"Thanks. Anyway, yeah, it's a bit hard implementing paper walls, but otherwise..." She giggled, surprising both of you.

"Do you speak Japanese?"

"Yeah. Kesa wa kireidesu ne / 今朝は綺麗ですね." (You look beautiful this morning.)

"And what does that mean?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes exaggeratedly.

"あなたには決して分からないかもしれません," you replied smoothly, taking a bite off your pancake. (You may never know.)

"Звучи лепо, згодно, али волео бих да знам шта говориш," she countered in her own Native tongue, sipping at her coffee, grinning. You looked back at her, impressed. (It sounds nice, handsome one, but I'd love to know what you're saying.)

"それはあなたから魔法のように聞こえます。" (That sounds magical coming from you.)

You both smirked, tucking into your breakfast instead of talking for a moment, occasionally making a comment on the food in your own languages. You both loved the sound of the other talking, no matter what they were saying.

Eventually, you decided on successful communication, and in English, Wanda asked at least half the questions she wanted answers to. You replied to every one. Neither of you held back in your accents and only at three in the afternoon did you realise how long ago you had finished eating.

——————-

So much fluff

Fun fact I've actually learned a bit of Japanese over the years and about one and a half of those sentences was my own....... I know, I know, I'm incredible, right? Anyways looking at foreign typography always makes me happy tbh

I'm snowed into my friends' house and can't keep reading my exciting book at home how's your day? It's kinda a vibe tho I've never been snowed in before

Have a great day lovelies

[grimgiblog]

Using this blog to collect animation references and post about our hyperfixations. Surprise surprise I really like Victor Saltzpyre as a written character, their voice actor does a phenomenal job, and the Witch Hunter Captain class is just really fun to play.

I will complain and say that the warhammer fanbase being filled with fascists who don't have the braincells to comprehend subtext and parody makes things a bit of a slog.

I will also complain that Saltzpyre is the fruitiest character alive, whose VA developed his voice from gay actor Kenneth Williams. 15:50 in this interview stream.

"And he was very you know, very camp, very gay. And in the days when you weren't allowed to be. When it was illegal. The weird thing it happened in America as well, was it was alright to be kind of camp and you know sound a bit fae and a bit kind of....you know. Gay. But you weren't allowed to be. So homosexuality was illegal. But being funny and camp was okay. And Kenneth Williams used to do this thing where he'd be; at one minute kind of completely London and then go into a whole posh sort of voice like that. And talk to any englishman and they go: yeah man you're just channeling Kenneth Williams."

I notice that in the fanbase where Victor's character, his gay way of being is sort of skewed and interpreted as him being just silly. Lot of meme shit has him as this straight pussy slayer gangster. How they kind of overide such mannerisms as just him being funny and camp. Not that he isn't funny or silly on his own right, but I reflect on how if this very same character was revealed as gay a lot of people who enjoy him probably wouldn't anymore. How the games themselves are littered with both homophobes and lgbt individuals. I think a lot about censorship.

And I think about straight interpretations of the character, which while there are some good bits of fanfic--quite a few of them derive on the nonconsensual. On unhealthy male and female dynamics. I also think of the lack of chemistry involved there. How with Sienna it's considered a "forbidden love" sort of deal, even though, it is in fact: a straight couple. It's not to say that the pairing can't be done well, and not to admonish those who do like it. (It's a dumb funny rat game and none of this matters in the grand scheme of things ship who you want I'm just an old grumpy cuss.) and it will probably be confirmed by the devs to be cannon anyways. But I always saw Victor and Kruber, two soldiers of the empire, one of polytheism and monotheism, sir and subordinate dynamics to be more interesting and barely written about. I want to make more stories and characters following their relationship. I want to write about gay 40 year old men, puritans who haven't experienced love, and big old male sluts who have shagged and been shagged more times than they can count. Of power and subservience and breaking the gender binaries. Of healing and of faggy banter.

There's a lot to explore and writing about them and drawing them has helped me figure out a lot about my own characters I want to write about. As well as what I enjoy and my own homosexuality as well. A lot to ruminate on. Just goes to show what a good game with great writers and actors can do lol.

[fan-fic-favs]

While You Were Sleeping

Pairing: Bang Chan x Superhero!Reader (fem)

Summary: You were a fan before you got your powers. You never imagined you'd meet him, let alone be able to help your favourite vlogger/singer/producer.

Warnings: none

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

The sand people.

That was the name the public had affectionately given to the group of superheros that had a similar set of powers. But unlike the Star Wars characters that were often looked down upon, the sand people all over the world received high praise. With powers that could simply put a super-villain or terrorist to sleep or in a coma, without causing any damage to city or neighbour's property, it was easy to end up in their good books.

The powers came to you all in different ways. Your story was nothing to make headlines; you were working at the archives in a museum, doing the annual counts in person for the accountants you worked for, when you came across an unmarked box in the corner. Following procedure, you lifted it to find a large yellow jewel instead. You didn't get much of a chance to inspect it, when you touched it, you were later found asleep next to where it had been, with the box nowhere to be seen. You were never able to find that box again afterwards, much to your chagrin. And so you went about your week, not thinking much about it until a friend at work mentioned they couldn't sleep. All it took was a thought from you, and a small amount of sand appeared in your palm and streamed across the room, and your friend was asleep.

That was easily the freakiest day of your life, you had flipped out, vacuumed up the sand in the office, and woken up your coworker before anyone could see what happened. Then you had rushed to the security cams, and wiped the past few minutes before anyone could see. They weren't monitored, and you had been tasked to help set them up, so hopefully you could claim just doing maintenance if anyone asked.

A couple months into testing your powers on people on buses and trains (thinking no one would notice in a place people often fell asleep anyway), you were approached by one of the sand people, and the rest is history.

Being on their team hadn't affected your life too much, the teams costume covered your whole face and included a cape and hood, there weren't any crazy fights, and you were able to still work online at your old job. You had no boyfriend, stayed in touch with your friends, and still watched silly YouTube videos. You avoided teleporting too much as it took a lot of energy out of you.

Besides helping out with hero work, the sand people also ran much sought after sleep clinics, and worked with doctors and researchers on sleep science. So far you had discovered that you needed to be within a kilometer of the person you were focused on, which helped a lot for villans that could turn invisible. With that knowledge, you now knew exactly which street corner you needed to get to in order to help your mum with her insomnia. It had been a hard week for her, you sent a quick good night text to her before driving back home for the night.

You even still kept your JYP bubble app, which you kept secret from everyone you knew. The little messages brought a smile to your face, and it took so long to get enough space for decent replies, you just couldn't bring yourself to delete it.

Scrolling through short videos after you got back home, a bubble notification popped up. Once again, Bang Chan, one of the idols you had on bubble, couldn't sleep. You really wished you could help him, but felt like a bit of a creep to give sleep to those who hadn't asked for it or weren't villains.

Quickly, you checked Twitter for any upcoming events. Surely one time wouldn't hurt, right? He had sent so many messages about not being able to sleep lately. It should seem pretty natural if he finally got one good night's sleep, right? It was the least you could do, for all the free content he provided on his streams that kept you entertained. Mind made up, you stood up, preparing to teleport to Seoul.

Thankfully you had been to Seoul before, and landed softly at Namsan Tower. You had googled where the JYP offices were, but unfamiliar locations often required more energy to teleport to, so you opted for the tower and took a bus from there, payment card in hand from your last trip there.

You really hoped he was texting from his studio there, because you had no idea where the dorms were, and already felt intrusive enough showing up outside his workplace. This was already kind of crossing the self made boundaries you had put in place.

Reaching out and picturing his face, sand collected in your hand and soon streamed out to find its mark. Happy your trip had not been for nothing, you skipped happily down the street before teleporting back home.

You went over your actions once you returned, fretting over if you'd been noticed. You knew the sand was nearly invisible to any security cameras, and going without your costume drew less attention. You didn't need your fellow sand people up in your business about why you were in Seoul.

Feeling good about your (hopefully) good deed, you went to sleep after watching some TV.

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

The next morning, a new message showed on your Bubble app.

짜니 : I think I was visited by a sand person??

짜니 : Or one of the kids is pranking me.

짜니 : Probably pranking me lol

Eyes widening you threw your phone to your bed. Then paced the room. Then looked back at your phone. Yep, the messages were still there. It could be blamed on pranking someone, right? You just wouldn't do it again, and everything would be fine.

But not long after, Chan's insomnia and late night messages returned. He raved about how good he slept when he got a "sand visit", and wished he had time for one of their sleep clinics.

You paced the room, trying to figure out a way to get away unnoticed with gifting him some sleep. A small amount of sand, less than a handful, was always found around a targets head. If you could make sure the sleep was deep enough, you should be able to vacuum up the sand before anyone noticed. Unfortunately, a few problems still stood in your way. One, you had no idea where Chan was at any given time, and didn't want to turn to any sasaeng websites to find out, that definitely felt like it crossed a line. Two, you weren't sure how to keep others from hearing the vacuum. If where he was was loud enough to cover the sound of the vacuum, it wouldn't be believable enough for him to fall asleep on his own.

You really wished there was some way to just talk to him, if you could get permission, your conscience would be at ease. But how do you contact someone you don't personally know?

Frustrated, you gave up again and went to bed. Maybe in the morning you could bounce ideas off your best friend, she always had the best solutions.

----

Morning came and you felt guilty again seeing the app messages from after you fell asleep.

짜니 : Do you think sand people can make themselves fall asleep?

짜니 : I'm so jealous~~~

Unfortunately, the powers could not be used on yourself, but another sand person could help, if your mind was willing to accept the help. Maybe you could hold an info session with him. No. You still wanted to keep your Para social relationship with the guy a secret.

Determined to figure this out so you could stop thinking about it, you made sure to pick up a sleep clinic shift with one of your local teammates, another sand lady who went by "The Dame".

Waiting for the computer to process the test results, you bounced a few ideas off of her.

"So you want to help someone who has helped you a lot, but they don't know you, and they don't live nearby?"

"Ya, pretty much." You sighed in frustration, unable to have come up with a solution.

"Hmm, what if you did one of those clinic tours some sand people do? You could send him an official invite as a thank-you."

Your eyes brightened as you considered it. "That's perfect! Yes, and, and I could send invites to others too so that he doesn't feel singled out and doesn't get the creeps!"

"Haha, you're always so concerned with the creeps." She shook her head.

"Oh come on, you don't think some random super showing up and messing with your sleep is creepy?"

"I dunno, could be sexy." She wiggled her eyebrows through her mask.

"Uhhhhh, sure. Cause waking up to sand around you is so sexy."

"Could be. Just use your imagination." She grinned like a cat as she rested her head on her laced hands.

You covered your face with your hands. "Ya, my imagination doesn't need any more fuel, thanks. I'm already always imagining how people could get offended over crossing boundaries and consent and all that."

"It's just sleep, not sex. And we only put dangerous villains or medical cases in a coma." She reasoned, crossing her arms.

"Ya, I guess that's true. I'll see if the admins can set up a sleep tour for me, they're always asking for us to do at least one every few years, and I've never done one." You mirrored her crossed arms as you considered the logistics. A quiet moment passed.

"Do you want me to see who else is available?"

You tilted your head as you weighed the options."Nah, I'd like to try on my own, I've already shadowed a couple in the past when I was getting trained."

"Sounds like you've got yourself a plan." She grinned.

------

Sounds like a plan, indeed. You stared at the Seoul invite list on your laptop with your hands on your face, going back and forth over whether or not to hit send. The invites would go to their doctors first, and then the doctors would get in touch with the patients. Christopher Bahng's name blinked back at you.

This was the whole reason you were doing the tour, right? Well, you had to do one eventually, so it was like killing two birds with one stone.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, you closed one eye and clicked send.

There.

Now it was off in cyberspace, unable to be retrieved. You let out a breath and headed to the fridge for a drink.

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

About a week later, you received the replies of those that could make it. Seeing Bang Chan checked as attending, you couldn't help bouncing up and down. The sleep clinics would run for a week, helping attendees to fix their circadian rhythm by being put to sleep at a set time every night. It made a big impact for many who suffered from insomnia, and you hoped it would help Chan too.

You included a frequently asked questions page as well, including answers to questions like 'Can sand people make themselves fall asleep?'

Later that night, your phone lit up with a new message on your app.

짜니 : No way, was my question seen?

짜니 : Can't be, right? If a super was a stay, I wouldn't be able to believe it.

Well, crap. Maybe that was a slip up on your part, but it could also be easily denied. Plenty of people had asked that question before. You let go of the breath you were holding and breathed deeply to calm down. You could do this, you could help and he will never know the visiting super was a stay.

Right?

---

Maybe this was a bad idea. You were supposed to be focused on everyone at the clinic, but your eyes kept coming back to Chan as you went through more Q&A before the first session began, thank God for your full face mask.

Chan was listening attentively, and only took out his phone for a minute once the Q&A had ended.

You phone buzzed before you had a chance to get away from the mic.

"I'm so sorry, I thought I turned that off."

짜니 : Huh, it turns out I was wrong, sand people can't make themselves fall asleep. Gotta make sure I correct myself, not gonna spread misinformation.

You giggled before you realized you were being stared at, with the mic still on a foot away from you.

Clearing your throat, you redirected the attention elsewhere. "If you'll follow the staff to your left, you'll find your sleeping accommodations for this week." You knew the staff were meant to announce directions, but the distraction did its job, and and you let the MC take over the rest of the directions.

You didn't seen Chan staring at you since the giggle you let out, all the way till you exited the conference room.

The research center was set up like a hospital but without the hospital beds. Each room had an arrangement of equipment in the corner, but otherwise the rooms resembled hotel or inn like rooms, with simple beds, many pillows and blankets to choose from, and side tables and chairs. TVs and books were pointedly left out to not give any more extra causes for sleep deprivation.

----

A week later found you in the observation chair with Chan to see if the machines showed any changes in his sleep rhythms. It was the last day of the sleep clinic, and notes needed to be made for the next sand super that came into town to do sleep clinic follow ups.

"I like that phrase, sleep rhythm, maybe I'll use it in our groups next song."

You let out a smothered chuckle, a little exasperated. "Mr. Chan-"

"I know, I know, I should be trying to sleep. Not every day you meet a favourite super."

Your face heated and once again you were glad for the mask. "Well, you're one in a million then, we're not usually anyone's favourites, not very flashy." You admitted.

"I wish I could wear a mask more often like you, I think I look a lot better with a face mask. Maybe I could talk to my staff about it. And I thought I asked to just be called Chan?" He teased.

Oh please no, if you didn't nip this in the bud, he might get ideas about covering his pretty face and then you'd be kicking yourself. "If I call you Chan, will you promise not to wear a mask all the time? I think your fans would cry."

He shook his head and changed the subject. "Is there anyway I can have sand visits all the time? This is the most energy I've had in years, it's like life is in HD." He looked up hopefully, eyes sparkling.

Many patients had made the same comment to sand people in the past, but at the prospect of helping Chan more often with his full consent, you thought of an idea.

"I won't be moving here, but I can let you know when I'm in town? I usually come by a couple times a year for personal or super business."

"Really!?" Chan leapt to sitting up in the bed next to your chair.

"Uh-huh. But just like your phone number is confidential, so is mine. And you'll have to save me under a name that's not suspicious." You quickly added.

"Hmmm, 'Sandy' too on the nose?" He grinned.

You laughed back. "Hmm, ya I think so. Any other ideas?"

"I wish I just knew your name. You know my stage name and my real name. Doesn't that bug guy and other supers not have a secret identity?"

"It's true that sand people can loose the mask if they get their PhD, but it's never been on my to do list. And it makes life that much more difficult. You should know, it's not easy to always be recognized everywhere you go. And in my case, the sand people have a few enemies, if they knew who I cared about, those people would be in danger."

"Awwwe, are you saying you care about me? Are you possibly a fan?" He sing-songed.

"What- why would-?" Your voiced came our cracked and squeaky. "Look, I care about a lot of people, that's why I'm not a villain."

"Haha, Fair enough. Well, I'm honoured to have your contact. I will list it under 'sleep doctor abroad' until I think of something better, deal?"

Happy with the outcome beyond what you had hoped for, you agreed "Deal."

-----

Later while you were almost asleep in your bed, your last night in Seoul before the next city, a message appeared on your Kakao app.

짜니 : HI <sticker>

짜니 : By the way, I forgot to ask, what name did you save me under?👀👀

Sleepyly, you took a screenshot of your screen and sent it.

You stared at the screen for a few seconds while you woke back up, seeing if you would get a reply.

짜니 : Channie?! No way, are you a stay?

Eyes widened as your heart raced, cursing, you were now fully awake. Oh crap. You hadn't even thought of that, you had just copied and pasted his name from the bubble app to your kakao. Unsure of what to do, you tried to play it cool. What could you say to not make it awkward?

You: I like some songs. :)

짜니 : Oh my God, Holy F- Okay, cool, that's cool. What's your favourite song?

You: My first favourite was...

And the conversation carried on back and forth, until you realized the events of the day had made you forget to send the sleep sand to Chan.

You: It's past sleep time! I'm so sorry, sending over the sand now. I can do a follow up visit to make it up to you after my tour is over.

You: That was so unprofessional of me, I'm so sorry.

짜니: Unprofessional means we're friends, right? But I won't say no to another good sleep visit ;)

A winky face?! Oh my God. Was he flirting? Why did he have to make the sleep visits sound like something else? No, it didn't mean anything. Seeing clips of different fan-calls, you knew he did that all the time. Sitting down, you tried to calm down and type your reply.

You: OK, good night. 💤

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

You kicked off your slippers, stepped from the hotel shower, and changed into your pajamas for the last night on your tour. The time difference wasn't too bad between Sydney and Seoul, and you had found little messages from Chan on your phone throughout your tour. Thankfully, the tour went from Mongolia down into Australia, so you were usually still in his time zone or close to it.

Before going to sleep, your opened your phone to check for any missed messages. The notification for the bubble app popped up, bringing a smile to your face. So far, you had neither confirmed nor denied to him that you had that app.

짜니: ugggh, can't sleep again.

짜니: Stay, what are you doing?

Remembering you had promised him one more sand visit once your tour ended, you shot him a text on Kakao.

You: I'm done my tour. Are you sleeping ok? Do you need a follow up visit tonight?

짜니: wow, that was fast.

You: what? My tour? Chan, it's been a few months. Felt pretty long to me.

짜니: No, it's just I just messaged stays that I was tired.

짜니: Preeeeetty sure you have bubble, that's too many coincidences 🤔

You giggled in your bed and sat up to text him more. You side stepped admitting you had bubble and changed the subject.

You: Should I land outside the JYP building? I think that will be close enough to send the sand from if you're there.

짜니: Can't you teleport inside? It's cold out, and I'm sure Sydney is nice and warm right now.

You: It's dangerous to teleport inside buildings I'm not familiar with, someone could get hurt. And I'll put a coat on. I didn't say I was in Sydney, are you following my tour updates in Twitter? 👀👀

짜니: Maybe... are you on bubble?

You: Fair enough. I'll be there in a minute, just grabbing my coat.

짜니: where are you teleporting to? The street? The roof?

You: I'll take a look at google street view and aerial view first, the roof next to, less people get scared that way.

Putting on your coat from your visit to Mongolia, you scrounged up the last of your energy to teleport.

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

The sound of the streets below filled your ears while you took in your new surroundings. You wish you had the energy to enjoy being in Seoul, but you really needed to rest. You had already expended most of your energy on the last reports for the sleep clinic tour that day and sending sleep sand to a last few clients. Gathering the sand to your hand, you jumped when your phone rang, the sand falling to the ground.

You couldn't believe your eyes, it was Chan calling. Shakily, you looked around and hit the answer button, holding it up to your ear. Was he okay? Was something wrong?

"H-Hello? Chan?"

"You picked up! Awesome! Look across the street!"

Looking up you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Chan jumping up and down at the JYP roof, waving his arm in the air frantically, the other holding his phone to his ear.

"I think it's you who just waved back, but just checking, your not in your costume?" His excited voice rang back.

"Ha, Ya that's me." You stalled, still a little in awe and relived that he was okay. "The costume draws too much attention if I just planned on being in and out."

"Your leaving already?" His voice sounded sad as you saw his hand stop waving and slowly lower. How was he so adorable? It broke your heart.

Your pause left him to fill the silence. "Well at least I know your hair colour now, it looks really pretty, from what I can see over here."

You laughed again into the phone, trying to find the words. Chan was quickly becoming one of your favourite persons to talk to, and you could see yourself quickly falling for him too. You even felt you trusted him enough to let him see you without your costume from far away.

"Chan, I-"

"Don't send the sand just yet. Can we talk for a little more, just like this?"

The emotion in his voice made you want to cry. He used to be just your favourite comfort vlog to watch, but was worming his way further into your heart, and you found it so hard to say no to him, especially when you wanted to spend more time with him too.

"Okay, but just for a little bit, I'm in my pjs and a winter coat."

"Oh! I have some hand warmers! I'm not sure how to get to the roof of that building tho." He looked around to the street below.

"Chan, I'm not wearing my mask."

"Oh..." You weren't sure how to interpret the emotion there. "Um, ya that's OK, I can grab you a face mask too if you're not comfortable with me yet." He sounded a little hurt.

"Hey! I didn't mean it like that, it's just, it's a big step, ok? Only my closest friends know it's me behind the mask."

Silence answered you on the line, and you wondered what you said wrong, how could you make him understand?

"What if I come again another time without the mask? I'm so sorry Chan, it's just teleporting takes a lot out of me and I've already spent most of my energy today." You explained.

"Do you wanna come to my studio and take a nap? Hear a track? Trade a secret for a secret? Only my closest friends hear me making tracks." His voice went higher and higher, sounding hopeful.

You stared in disbelief. Was this really happening? Your little stay heart was jumping up and down at the prospect of hearing a new track from him.

"Ok" Your mouth had already answered before you could really think about it. "But I'd like a mask at first please, at least till we get to the studio." You quickly added. You found reveals were always easier in steps.

You found the alley next to the building and floated down to ground level. Sandies couldn't usually fly, it was almost always more of a controlled fall and some could float. Getting settled, you peeked out of the alley way before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"I'm not looking!" Chan was in front of you, covering his eyes. "Here's a mask for you." You looked to his outstretched arm to find a mask matching the one on his face. It made sense, being so close to the building, he probably got stopped by fans a lot.

"Thank-you." You took it from his hands and put it on. "You can open your eyes now."

Chan let his hand drop from his eyes and stared.

"Oh wow, damn, ok. Sorry, you, you're gorgeous." He looked at you in adoration.

"Chan," You giggled. "You haven't even seen the rest of my face. It could be severely distorted for all you know."

"Nope. Impossible, I can tell even from when you have your mask on that you have a nice jawline and lips." He crossed his arms in triumph.

You crossed your arms too, matching his stance. "Oh really? You've been looking at my lips?" You flirted.

The tips of Chan's ears went red. "Hey, stop that." He said halfheartedly.

-------

You followed Chan with your eyes as he took to the stairs with a windows facing you, looking for where he stopped so that you could try teleporting and skip the security questions. You appeared behind Chan, and had fun tapping him on the shoulder and scaring him. He took you down the hall to his current studio. Once you settled into a seat near his laptop, you took your mask off. You found in the past that it was like ripping of a band-aid, and much easier if you just got it over with. "Okay, I've revealed my face, time to keep up your end of the deal."

Chan looked over and stared. A smile grew on his face. "See, I told you it's impossible. You're more beautiful than I imagined."

Your face turned beat red. "Hey, you stop that. I know you're used to flirting with stays, but if you keep it up you're going to give me ideas."

Chan grinned back at you and leaned in, even as red covered his cheeks. "And what if I want you to get ideas?"

You stared at him as he stated back at you. You couldn't believe him an shook your head. "Very funny. Actually, no, not funny. Stop playing with my feelings and show me the song."

He paused, looking a little offended, and turned around, apparently letting up to give you some breathing room. You saw his eyes from the side keep glancing back at you as his face stayed turned to the laptop screen. After finding the right file, and listening to make sure it was acceptable, he took the headphones off and put them on your head. The song that played was in English, with only Chan's vocals. It told of a story of a mysterious lady he only ever saw when he couldn't sleep, or in his dreams. There were even a few quotes that you had shared with him as your favourite sayings in your conversations over text. Your eyes teared up at the thought of Chan writing a song for you. You covered your mouth with your hand and tried not to cry, the tiredness of the day and all the excitement and feelings taking over.

Chan turned at the sound of your big sniff, and was alarmed out of his seat. "Hey! Are you ok? I didn't mean to make you cry!" He put his hands on your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, I'm just a mess. It's just pretty overwhelming to have you write a song for me. I didn't think I'd ever even get to meet you, just see you at concerts." You wiped your tears away while he stared in concern, rubbing your arms.

"Aha! So you have been to our concerts. But we'll talk about that later, come here." He drew you into his arms. You hesitated at first, but quickly hugged back. His hugs were better than you imagined through his vlogs.

Once you calmed down, you let out a deep breath and let go. "I'm so sorry, I can go now, I'm such a mess."

"What? No, you need to take a nap, remember?" His puppy dog eyes looked back at you. Your resolve to run away in embarrassment crumbled. He had you wrapped around his little finger and he didn't even know it.

"Okay, but I'm setting a timer on my phone. Just twenty minutes and that will be enough for me to teleport back. And then you're getting sleep sand mister, don't think I forgot." You tried to sound authoritative but it just came out sleepy.

Chan stared back at you chuckling, seeming to debate arguing. "Okay. I'll finish up what I'm doing and then wake you up."

You fell asleep very quickly after that on the couch while Chan tidied up his things from the day at the studio. Before your alarm went off, Chan sat down next you to get a closer look at your face. He tried to memorize it best he could, feeling taking a picture would break your fragile trust that he had finally built up enough to get this far. His phone lit up in his phone, a message from Han, wondering if he Changbin left his phone in the studio. Chan quickly tried to come up with an excuse, saying he was just packing up before the door opened.

Chan stared at Han, feeling he was caught red-handed.

"Umm, this is not what it looks like." Chan tried to explain.

"Really, cause it looks like you let some lady in her pajams sleep in your studio. Is this that girl you've been texting that you won't tell us about?"

"What? I haven't-. Ok. Yes, you're right, but keep your voice down, take the phone and close the door before she wakes up, I'll explain when I get home."

"Ok hyung, you better have a good explanation, this would be a huge scandal."

'I know." His voice let Han know he knew how serious this was for all of them.

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

Preview of Part 2:

"She's in a coma."

"I was gonna marry that girl."

"Chan's gonna marry my sister, you know."

"Did you see the headlines?"

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Villain's Coffee Shop part 13

Warnings: none, really, this one's mostly passive

Three days passed. Three days of waffling, of thinking it over again and again.

Hero was giving him the chance to save lives with his powers, instead of take them. Despite the dark nature of his particular gifts. He was so indecisive and uncertain it was driving him crazy. There was a reason he was Villain - and it was because the world had rejected him. Did he really want to open himself up to potentially getting hurt again?

But... if there was even a slight chance...

Villain downed the last of his fifth cup of coffee for the day, and it wasn't even noon yet. It was the weekend, and his shop was closed. Giving him plenty of time to get lost in his thoughts, to weigh the pros and cons of taking up Hero's offer. Of giving this whole 'being a hero' thing a try.

He felt a little guilty remembering how he'd hurt Hero recently when the control over his powers had slipped. Would she even want him to join the hero team after that? He hoped he hadn't scared her too badly with his flashy show of power during their last encounter.

Villain jumped and turned at hearing something clatter to the floor and saw Mocha hop off one of the counters to land with a light thump next to the phone he'd knocked off it. He rolled his eyes with a laugh and walked over, petting Mocha on the head before scooping up his fallen phone.

"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm procrastinating,'" he sighed affectionately, and scooped the scruffy cat up in his free hand, helping Mocha climb to perch on his shoulders, draped across the back of his neck like a purring scarf. It was his favorite spot to lounge while Villain worked when there weren't customers around. It kept him out of the way and freed Villain's hands up to work, while Mocha was still able to get what he wanted too -- to stay near his owner at all times.

Villain waited until Mocha had settled down around his neck before unlocking his phone and going to type in a phone number. He hesitated with a finger hovering over the call button, chewing his lip. "What do you say, Mocha? Should I do it?"

Mocha booped his cheek with a wet nose, and Villain smiled.

"All right, guess I'm trying something new…”

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

The call went surprisingly well, and Hero spoke as if nothing had happened between them -- as if Villain hadn't attacked her in his own coffee shop when she'd come to speak with him about the job offer.

But eventually, the meeting point was set. Villain half-suspected it might be a trap, so he made sure to be cautious when he arrived, in full civilian clothes. He wasn't wearing any facial-molding makeup -- scars out on full display. He wouldn't waste time with an organization that wouldn't accept him for who he was, hideous face and all. And he brought Mocha with him. The clever cat went practically everywhere with him, anytime he wasn't on-duty fighting heroes in the streets. This was no exception.

Mocha was also a frighteningly good judge of character, so it was convenient to bring him as a test to check out whoever his future employer was going to be. Villain would be able to tell from how Mocha reacted alone if someone had bad intentions. And he wouldn't associate himself with those who would judge a three-legged cat anyway.

Hero was already waiting for him when he arrived, standing outside a tall building Villain knew belonged to Agency. Being so close to the enemy's headquarters put him on-edge, but he firmly reminded himself that he was here to play nice.

Villain glanced briefly at Hero's wrist, which was wrapped in medical dressings.

"Still not healed?" Villain commented as he approached behind her.

Hero whipped around, startled, then relaxed at seeing who it was. She rubbed her arm sheepishly, glaring. "You fractured my wrist, jerk. Of course it's not healed yet," she spat.

"I suppose I do deserve that," Villain muttered.

Hero arched an eyebrow, glancing down at the black cat sitting next to him. "You... brought your cat?" She questioned.

Villain didn't bat an eye when he answered. "Yes. I did."

Hero's nose wrinkled in confusion, but she didn't argue with it, spinning around and gesturing beckoningly to him. "Come with me, I'll show you to the office you'll be interviewed in."

Villain strode after her, Mocha trotting next to him like a dog. Such a clingy little creature. But they shared a close bond, so it made sense that wherever Villain was, his cat could be found too.

Hero took them up an elevator to the fifth story, leading the way until they reached a large, empty office. There were two chairs on one side of a desk in the middle, and one chair on the other. Villain took a seat, and Mocha immediately hopped up into his lap. Hero took the chair next to him.

“My boss should arrive shortly,” she announced reassuringly.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

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

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

@federthenotsogreat @everynameistakencarrots

[ilovescarletwitch]

Anakin's Tusken Massacre

I just completely reject that part of the plot. Because it's insanely racist, misogynistic and out of character and counterproductive to the plot and character development.

First, the Tuskens. They are supposedly the native species of Tatooine, have suffered because of the settlers and because of their suffering and their own harsh culture they lash out at every settler, even those who don't deserve it. So far, so good. If Shmi was killed during a raid to the farm for water they feel the settlers steal, the story would make sense.

But they don't. They just find her out gathering mushrooms and kidnap her. Why? Why not just kill her and try to raid the farm for medical supplies, food, water? Shmi probably had very little things of use on her and those could be taken off her dead body. If they wanted to intimidate the farmers, to remind them they were there and willing to keep killing them until none was left, Shmi 's corpse would work better than kidnapping her.

Moreover, let's say a small group of them kidnaps Shmi and takes her back to the village so they can satisfy their sadism by torturing her. Why did the rest of the tribe allow it? Even among harsh societies, they are still people that will protest someone else's mistreatment. Especially after thirty or so angry farmers gathered to get her back. Yes, the Tuskens won but even fighting was against their best interests. It meant they still risked their own people dying, valuable supplies destroyed during the fight and after it was all over they would possibly have to expend medical supplies to treat their wounded. Why not use Shmi as a bargaining chip against the farmers, to try to get asupplies, food, water, anything of value the farmers could get more easily than the Tuskens could?

Lastly, it makes no sense that they kept Shmi alive for so long. They had her for weeks. Which means that they must have given her food and water and even treated some of her wound for her to last that long. Why would they do that? So they could keep torturing her? Hadn't the novelty worn off after the first couple of days? They weren't using her as a work slave for all the jobs they didn't want to do themselves either, or she would have been kept in a far better state. Even if a small group of Tuskens wanted to keep her as a convenient outlet for their own violence, I see little reason everyone else would allow it and spend their limited resources on her, especially after they were already made the targets of an attack by the farmers. They would just dump her body and move on.

Essentially the subplot is, those native savages are a danger to struggling farmers and will absolutely kidnap women and torture and abuse them for fun, but it's wrong to kill all of them and their families because we are the Civilised White People. Further carried across by the white man, the son of the white woman they kidnapped and tortured for no reason, killing them all and then feeling bad about it and the other white woman telling him that he had no choice.

The Tuskens were made to act against their own best interests by the story and we are all just supposed to accept that of course they would act like this, nothing unusual about those savages kidnapping a woman and torturing her for fun.

Then, Padme. Why wouldn't she tell anyone? Let's say that Anakin had an honest psychotic breakdown, wasn't in control of himself etc. The best thing for Anakin would be to get help. She wanted to protect him, but let's be real. It's highly unlikely the Republic would ever care about a group of Tuskens. It was out of Republic borders, ,the Tuskens were notorious for being violent and xenophobic and either way the Republic had a bad track record of treating decently those different than them and had ignored worse crimes on Tatooine for longer. The Jedi didn't as of yet have the authority to imprison anyone, Anakin's resignation and Padme's power should be enough to protect him. Padme should have urged Anakin to check himself in the space equivalent of a psychiatric clinic. At the very least, advice him against continuing to wield a lightsaber and go to the battlefield where his mental health would deteriorate further.

Shmi herself. The prequels have to include her death. She is a narrative device, the force pushing her son to firm his resolve that he will stop people he loves from dying. But there is some glaring misogyny in having one of the two female characters in the prequels randomly kidnapped and tortured to death just to cause the male character pain.

The plot. What was the point of that scene, why was it even included? Yes, Shmi needed to die. It's the prequels, the outcome is already written in stone. Anakin needs to develop an obsession with stopping people from dying. But this subplot just throws a wrench into the storytelling. Because t is never mentioned again. Anakin kills everyone, innocent along with the guilty and then goes along and remains a hero and a good guy for three years. His crime, his guilt, it becomes irrelevant. His visions are only mentioned again when he starts having similar dreams about Padme but they make no reference to what Anakin did.

Anakin killing the Jedi children, right when he is about to become a father himself, is supposed to be the climax of the prequels. He is Fallen. Padme decides she can't follow him anymore. Obi-Wan hunts him,fights him and as a result of that Anakin loses everything. Padme, his children, his freedom, his health. He spends years trapped in what is essentially a torture device, bound to a monster who delights in his misery, trapped in a cycle of suffering and evil deeds. Anakin killing children in the past and remaining good and nothing changing, essentially cheapens the whole thing

Finally, Anakin's character development. Anakin was supposed to be a good person. Otherwise, there wouldn't be any good for Luke to appeal to. Darth Vader was terrible. He was complicit in the destruction of whole planets, he tortured prisoners, he killed his own officers. What was the point of having him commit atrocities as a literal teenager, except contradicting the OT trilogy where Luke says his father was once a good man? The OG movies had been out for literal decades by that point. Everyone knew that Anakin Skywalker would become Darth Vader and would do terrible things. It would be far more important to to show Anakin's potential fo compassion, for love , for good. To essentially make the audience forget Anakin would inevitably become Darth Vader and have everyone mourn his Fall as a great tragedy, a loss for good. Similar to Rogue One when we all knew they would die and yet people still cried about it or were at the edge of their seats waiting for a miraculous last minute rescue.

[espectres]

' you should stop getting into trouble like this. ' satoshi says it with the hush of someone imploring mercy. upon themselves, upon the other, well-hidden frustrations mingling with an exasperated fatigue. he recognizes, perhaps, the name suzuki toichiro better than he does suzuki shou, in bureaucracy files and brazen public declarations, both equal strangers at a personal level. the names and reputations of sons followed their fathers and it's why satoshi too was a hiwatari before a hikari, the tall, ominous black shadow of a man who proclaimed love but fostered only hate always looming out, over him, heavy and choking as a cursed white.

' none of this is a game, ' hiwatari says, and it's almost funny how the words he's used trying to defend himself in front of that domineering black obelisk becomes something in his hands trying to stop and bar the other from becoming a pitiful son. ' i already know who you are. ' boy who was supposed to inherit a sickening empire. all the world, its glory and power, yet none of its love. hiwatari does not say any of this. ' you don't want to end up like your father, making mistakes and causing messes for everyone while you do what you think is right. '

@audienceled

STRAY PENCIL TWIRLS IN HIS HAND, short and worn out by bite marmarks on one end. In hindsight, the Hiwatari and his power and knowledge mean what Shou assumes to be bad news. The Suzuki is supposed to start "a new life", after all, or whatever his mother and the government agenst were talking about. But he's always believed such a thing as a new life wouldn't be as simple as moving towns and playing with some legals things on a paper. Even if he were to go as far as changing his name and looks, nothing can change the fact that he's his father's son. And that fact will always make itself a burden, and that burden will always weigh on his shoulders. 

What's a new life if he can still remember ? If he can still tell how the hands on his shoulders and the hands around his throat were the same ? 

" UGH ... about time someone's figured it out ! "  Exaggerated frustration quickly turns into a bright smile as he turns to face his classmate, a smile that friends usually offer each other in congratulations or encouragement, when they've done something particularly impressive. He knows when his secrets are being weaponized against him, and he is having none of it.  " What was it ? The name ? The red hair ? Maybe I should learn to be a little more impulsive and dye it like I've been thinking. "  He goes on talking merrily, taking leisurely steps around like it would just kill him to stand in one place and be perceived for 5 seconds. " Good job either way, great detective, " Three short claps feel necessary as he pauses, maintaining eye contact. " Or should I say Commander ? " 

It's not like he can be proud for finding out himself. This whole thing feels like it should be common knowledge but it doesn't seem like it. It's a middle schooler leading a police department for fuck's sake. But either way, Shou doesn't care about that, it's none of his business. What he cares about is that this middle schooler, who's essentially a cop, has the audacity to order him around.  

" How's it going for ya ? Caught any bad guys recently ? Any pity lawbreakers ? "  The words are light with sarcasm, tight as he holds back a condescending laugh, but the bite behind makes itself clear, sharp and unsettling white. Pencil assisting the taunt as he points while talking.  “ Maybe a few pickpockets while turning your eyes away from bigger problems you can't do shit about. ”

That's where his act ends, smile slipping away, allowing the ever present chill of his eyes to get even more prominent, and it doesn't help how he stares. If the right people were to do their right job ... ( and if his mother cared enough, if law enforcers weren't greedy bastards, if the people forced into claw weren't so cowardly ... ) would it have been enough to left the burden from his shoulders ?  He has always wondered, but wondering led nowhere. At the end he did it all because he had to.  Because no one else would. Because they were all cowards. And for a long time, he was a coward, too. But not anymore. 

" You don't get to tell me what to do. " The shake of his head and glare on his features speak of disappointments and nauseated grudges. A cold, dismissive finality.  " Doing what I think is right has never failed me. I know it won't. Because I'm nothing like him, I never was and I'll never be. " 

[montammil]

superhero au is so great! Definitely needs a part two!

I'm not good at fighting scenes, but I tried in attempt to make things interesting. Also I focus on Nathan the most here, I promise continuing this I'll focus on Marshall and Sadie some more too.

I decided to give Nathan electricity powers, Sadie fire powers, and Marshall has generic healing powers.

CW: Parental whumper, violence, possessive language, multiple whumpees (one female whumpee)

Marshall has never recalled a time he felt more anxious, as he picks at his food with a fork. He glances at Sadie to see her staring down at her food with an equally anxious expression, and then to Nathan, who's glaring at Lawrence. Sadie's sat next to Lawrence, Marshall's right across him, and Nathan gets the spot furthest away from him. Marshall envies him.

Lawrence quickly notices Nathan's angry gaze on him. "I gave you multiple warnings, Nathan."

Gritting his teeth, Nathan says, "I don't even care about that. You kidnapped us."

"I'm protecting you, kiddo. From the outside world," Lawrence retorts. "Besides, it's clear none of you are fit to be fighting. I looked into each of your medical histories and I nearly got a heart attack!"

If he weren't a stranger, maybe that'd be reasonable. Marshall had multiple near-death experiences. He wouldn't be shocked if that were the same story with Sadie or Nathan.

"You're so wrong about me being 'not fit to fight,'" Nathan says, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've been training since I was a kid."

A chuckle comes from the older man. "There's a difference between being strong and reckless. Sometimes it seems like you don't ever think ahead, given your history of fights."

Sadie mutters something under her breath, but she keeps her eyes on Lawrence.

"I know you think you're invincible," Lawrence continues, "but I can assure you, you aren't. If you don't stop being so impulsive, you'll get yourself killed."

A growl emanates from Nathan's throat. "I'm not going to take anything a delusional crazy guy tells me seriously. If you think I'm so weak, fight me, asshole."

Marshall and Sadie both want to cut in, to say something that'll help, but all they can do is exchange nervous glances to each other.

Lawrence seems not affected in the slightest. "What good will that do? You'll just get your ego hurt further, Nathan."

Breathing heavily, Nathan stands up from his seat and leans against the table. "Then if I win, you let us all go. If I lose, then you can keep us here."

Sadie's eyes widen. "Nathan, you can't just--"

"Deal." Lawrence takes a bite nonchalantly. "After breakfast, though. I think it'd be unfair without getting our full energy first, right?"

"M-maybe we should get an opinion on this, too?" Marshall laughs, but is visibly shaking in his seat. It's not that he doesn't believe in Nathan, but showing how confident Lawrence is, it makes him scared.

Lawrence chuckles. "Of course, of course. I wouldn't want to make a rash decision without consulting all of my kids. If it'd help, why don't you all join in, too?"

Marshall still hesitates. As someone who fought against Lawrence before, he knows he's as irritating as he is powerful, even if he rarely does anything to show it. "It's... it's not worth it. I won't fight you." He knows he can hardly lay a finger on him, anyway, since he's still primarily a healer.

"Aw, are you afraid of hurting your dad? That's so sweet!" Lawrence coos, making Marshall want to throw his fork at him. The other two don't seem too happy about it either.

Fiddling with her fingers, Sadie says, "Marshall can heal us. He doesn't need to fight."

Lawrence shakes his head. "No can do, Sadie. It wouldn't be very fair that way. Besides, you shouldn't rely on your brother to heal you, that's my job."

"I don't need to be healed. I'm done eating." Nathan shoves his surprisingly empty plate forward.

"Well, then I guess we should get started, huh?"

...

Outside the house, Marshall is shocked to see an open area, isolated and even serene. It's an open beach, which Marshall can assume is his private property, considering it's too beautiful to be empty on a sunny warm day like today.

"Alright. You can make the first move," Lawrence tells the two. He looks rather unbothered.

If Marshall could run away right now, he would, but seeing what happened to Nathan, he knows that'd be an idiotic choice. He stays rooted in place, hands clasped behind his back.

"Fine." Nathan darts forward, hands lit with electricity, and lunges at Lawrence.

Lawrence easily sidesteps him, and when Nathan tries to go around, Lawrence grabs him by the back of his shirt and yanks him backwards. Nathan easily catches his fall, sliding backwards in the sand.

Sadie takes the opportunity and tries attacking similarly to Nathan. Lawrence reflectively kicks her in the stomach, knocking Sadie to the ground and sending her rolling in the sand.

Nathan quickly jumps up and charges Lawrence again, who just rolls backwards in the sand and avoids the blow. He kicks Nathan in the gut as well and sends him crashing onto the shore, where he struggles to push himself off the ground.

"That's the best you have?" Lawrence scoffs. "Try again."

Nathan groans and stands up, rubbing his stomach. He tries again, but Lawrence dodges again.

"Come on, Nathan. I'm not that hard to hit," Lawrence taunts. "What happened to all that training you did as a kid, hm?"

Nathan grumbles under his breath. He tries again, but Lawrence ducks and punches him in the side, making him stumble.

Lawrence smirks. "Raw strength is nothing if you can't even coordinate your attacks."

Sadie brings her hands together and shoots a flame at Lawrence, but he easily skirts out of its direction, and then grabs Nathan by the back of his shirt to throw him at her. She barely misses it, letting Nathan hit the ground on his side yet again.

Jaw tight, Nathan glares up at Lawrence.

"When you're ready to give up, just tell me and we can stop this nonsense," Lawrence chuckles. "I don't want you to get hurt, buddy. Either of you."

Sadie is silent for a moment, and then she says, "I'm done."

"What!?" Nathan glares at her next. "You can't quit!"

Sadie doesn't reply. She stares down at the sand, refusing to meet his eyes. After a brief pause, she goes to where Marshall's watching, on the porch of the house.

Grinning, Lawrence says, "Your sister has more common sense than you, kiddo." He opens his arms for a hug. "Come on, stop this. You'll be so much happier here than anywhere else, you just need to give it a chance."

"Never!" Nathan spits, and charges at Lawrence yet again, but just as he tries shooting another volt of electricity at Lawrence, Lawrence knocks him to the side and kicks him in the side this time.

Now that Marshall thinks of it, Lawrence has never shown any kind of powers. To see that he's overpowering them so casually and effortlessly, makes him wonder if they really are weak. Especially Nathan, who's insisted he was strong this entire time.

"This is getting boring, isn't it?" Lawrence walks forward and pins Nathan to the ground with his shoe. "Do you know what my power is, kiddo?"

"What?" Nathan grits out.

Lawrence smiles. "I can predict five seconds into the future before an attack comes. Which means I can do this forever, but I can tell you're getting worn out. Poor thing. Why don't you give up?"

Marshall's eyes widen to get that information, but it does make sense. He hears Sadie's breath hitch, as well.

"You're lying," Nathan replies, though he's clearly struggling. He tries attacking Lawrence again, but Lawrence moves his foot away and dodges yet again, giving Nathan the opportunity to spring back up.

Picking up speed, Nathan rushes Lawrence, throwing every punch he can muster and attempting to hit Lawrence with lightning.

His attempts are only hindered again as Lawrence grabs his hands and points them at the sky so the attack doesn't hit him. He looks a little tired from dodging each attack, but Nathan looks five times even more worn out, as he's definitely putting the most effort in, not to mention how hard he's panting from both exhaustion and anger.

Lawrence delivers a punch to his stomach, causing Nathan to stagger back and fall onto the rocks along the shoreline. When he regains his footing, Lawrence grabs Nathan by the collar and hoists him up.

"You can't win," Lawrence continues, "just give up. I don't like hurting my son, you know."

Nathan tries mustering more of his power, and though a few jolts emit from his palms, he's too exhausted to form anything worthy of another attack. He claws at Lawrence's hands instead.

"This is cheating," he huffs.

A smile spreads across Lawrence's face. "You get to use your powers. I think it's only fair I get to use mine, right?" He drops Nathan back to the ground. "I think we're done here."

"No," Nathan insists as he tries to get back to his feet, only to fall to the ground in exhaustion, gasping for air. "We're not done yet."

He doesn't acknowledge his words, instead picks him up like a sack of potatoes and grins at both Sadie and Marshall, who are looking at him in horror. "You know what this means. You're all mine now."

[zmediaoutlet]

Happy wincest wednesday!

How do you think their relationship would have progressed if the events after s2 didn't happen (aka sam not dying and dean not dying)? would they always be as tight of a unit as they were in s2 or would sam eventually seek "independence" like he did when he went with ruby (or was that because of the demon blood)? Also do you think sam would've reacted to dean coming back to life differently (less cool about it) if he weren't using his powers but being "old sam"?

(does that make sense)

hello, hello, anonymous wincest friend! i know you sent this in plenty of time but it has Been A Week and so i'm just getting to it --

-- sidenote i know that wednesday is the day for wincest but i hope everyone feels thrilled to be wincesty on any day that we can manage, yes? yes. okay, so --

This is a really interesting question, friend anon. In a sense this is like -- imagine myself back in 2007 when people were writing early-years wincest, contextless, without the weight of the future and also without the weight of the deepened past that we got over the many years of actual canon information. That's really hard to do, haha! But I'll try, for wincest saturday. Although this is a two-part imagining, so, let's see-- let's take the second part first:

How would Sam have reacted to Dean coming back to life in s4 if he hadn't been using his powers?

Very interesting question. Part of the question inherent in that is: is he still working with Ruby? I think we might have to say no -- her whole job is to corrupt him with hubris, and how would she manage to cling on if she doesn't have the excuse of ""helping him"" by getting him to use his powers? So we'll imagine a world where -- whatever, Sam stabs her with her own knife when she shows up -- and that sobers him up a little from his grief spiral, and of course he's still trying to figure out a way to bring Dean back, and maybe he's still even looking for Lilith, but he hasn't spun off onto that path-of-good-intentions that made so many things go wrong in s4.

So -- Sam's still had a hard goddamn summer, but he's not got that early corruption set in. Maybe still talking to Bobby. And one day he opens up his motel room -- he ordered pizza and he's tired and his leads keep petering out -- and there's Dean, standing there, Bobby over his shoulder, and Sam's luck is never this good so of course it's a shapeshifter or a demon or a -- and of course, it is Dean, and that means -- it means --

I don't know if you'd be able to peel them apart, honestly. Bobby'd start getting uncomfortable. ...My 'stick to canon' heart is elbowing me to remind me of how in s6 when Sam got resouled, Dean was perfectly happy to go off and do a case without him, but I really do think this'd be different. Sam would have been operating on a possibly Mystery Spot-esque emptiness and lack of hope and Dean coming back pours light and color back into his life in a way that the demon blood/Ruby/corruption path he was on just didn't allow. Of course he was happy in canon to have Dean back, but killing Lilith had become the main goal that overshadowed Dean's return bc Ruby needed that to be true, and here it wouldn't be. And that just. Does a lot. If they hadn't already consummated the wincest, strong chance a first time would happen within that first month back.

What if Sam and Dean didn't die and instead just kept 'normally hunting', presumably still after avenging John & Mary by killing Azazel since those are the events of s2?

So this is yet another world. I suppose if Sam doesn't die that means that he's the 'winner' of the Special Kids olympics. Whether he opens the devil's gate or not, the trouble with Sam not dying means that Dean doesn't sell his soul, and if Dean doesn't sell his soul he can't go to hell as the righteous man who will start the apocalypse, which means Lilith doesn't get killed at the right time, which means that they aren't the vessels of angels and none of that terrible shit happens. And so, without all that...

If the apocalypse doesn't happen, and they're just hunting and cleaning up demons and getting on with their lives, I think... they break up. Not necessarily in a super sad way, and not even necessarily angry. But there's no reason for them to stick together, not really. Maybe Sam meets some girl, in some town. Maybe going back to college seems feasible. There'll always be another ghost, another werewolf, and the thing is that now we're past s2 and they know so many other hunters, it doesn't feel like the end of the world if they find a job and pass it on to someone else, you know? Hell, maybe Dean wants to settle down, slow down. He never was as bought in on the hunting as he actually seemed. But -- in the same way that I always hold firm to the opinion that they make themselves into soulmates -- without all the shitty, scary things that happen to them over the middle years -- their soulmate status isn't actually there. They're still tied together by history and love, but it's a thinner weaker connection than it would be in s5, s7, s11. So Sam goes back to law school. Dean opens his own roadhouse. They talk, they maybe even still go on hunts occasionally. They're good brothers. They aren't more.

Healthier, probably. More fun for me? Absolutely not, lol.

[nessituran]

❛❛ 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 , who wears black and speaks her mind . So powerful , she leaves her prints on everyone she touches because she is both: a savage and a sweetheart . –––––––––––––

FULL NAME. Neslihan Beyza Turan

NICKNAMES. Nes, Nesli

STAGE NAME. Nessi

BIRTHDAY. tba ( 31 )

OCCUPATION. Singer/Songwriter for Red Bedroom Records

RESIDENCE. Downtown

GENDER / PRONOUNS.  Cisfemale ∘  She/Her

HOMETOWN. Covington, Georgia ( born in Turkey )

VOICECLAIM. Kelsea Ballerini

PINTEREST ╱ CONNECTIONS

personality .

zodiac chart: ?? sun, ?? moon, ?? rising

mbti personality: isfp

moral alignment: neutral good

ennegram: ???

hobbies / interests: music/songwriting, horseback riding, reading, painting

positive traits: creative, caring, empathetic, free spirited, optimistic

negative traits: insecure, naive, sensitive

family .

parents: Sevda Turan (mother) and Ekrem Turan (father)

siblings: kelebek "bek" turan

children: none

pets: a cat named ________

breakdown .

tw: tba

She's lived in Covington for a majority of her life but was originally born in Turkey like her older sister.

The Turans grew up with modest means. They weren't rich but, they got by. They were very supportive of their children and made sure to celebrate their successes.

Bek was the scholar, the shining star. While Nesli was a star but in her own right. From an early age she loved music. Loved listening to it, playing it, and writing it. She knew one day she'd see her name in lights and she'd stop at nothing to get there.

While Bek transcended in school and was considered something of a child genius, Nesli struggled. She suffered with reading dyslexia but tried her best to overcome it.

She got decent grades in hopes of making her parents just as proud but in someway or another, she always came up short. She knew it was because her gifts were different.

So around the time she got to high school, she begged and pleaded with her parents to send her to an art school rather than to a regular school. With the help of scholarships, her first ever job and an apprenticeship she got with a local musician - she was able to go. Avoiding not only the ridicule that would be waiting for her upon being labeled "Baby Bek's little sister" but an atmosphere that wouldn't serve her.

Turns out she excelled, as any young aspiring musician would and later left her hometown to pursue music at Vanderbilt University in Nashville.

In between her studies, she would perform at local bars and coffee shops in hopes of landing a bigger gig and getting recognized. It took two to three years of strenuous hustling and making connections to gain some traction. But, it wasn't until she started posting videos of her performances on TikTok and clips of her singing covers in her bedroom for her career to take off.

A music rep at Red Bedroom records came across her page and was blown away by what they saw. Although young, she had something that most seasoned musicians could never emulate. They signed her a few weeks later and she immediately started recording songs she had tucked away in journals over the years.

Her first album when platinum 13 months later and in the height of her so called "fame" she'd accumulated a wide audience ranging of close to one million followers.

From there, she spent the next 2-3 years traveling and touring across the world. She even broadened her range by working with other artists in the industry, some even from the same label.

Around this time of collaborating, she'd met her then boyfriend - a country singer - who furthered her career and helped her rake in new fans and followers. The internet couldn't get enough of them together. And while on the outside everything seemed picture perfect, there was a dark side lurking beneath their relationship. Like all great things that shine brilliantly and brightly, their relationship faded fast.

Heartbroken, Nesli fell into a deep funk. And before she knew it, her label was pressuring her to put out her sophomore album. The only problem was, she couldn't write to save her life. Her first record consisted of a body of work she cultivated since she was a preteen. How was she ever going to top it? The more they pressed her for new songs, the more she cracked under the pressure, resulting to some very bad habits.

They recently gave her 3 months to clean up her act and come up with new material or they would be forced to drop her for good. Afraid and confused, it's forced her to return home with her tail tucked between her legs and the weight of her entire world on her shoulders. Nesli is hoping that being around her friends, her family, and her hometown might actually knock a few screws loose so the floodgates to new material would pour open but she's not holding her breath.

At the very same time, she'll do whatever it takes to carry on. Because if there's one thing she couldn't bear to lose, it's the only dream she's ever truly had or been great at.

headcanons .

tba

character inspirations. haley james scott (one tree hill)