#some people will see a stick dressed in black and call it cool

[they-hermes]

the worst worst feeling ever is watching people call a character cool when they're so obviously not cool at all

[ariestrxsh]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, quite a bit of fluff, innocence corruption, masturbation, use of toys, getting caught, handjob (kinda), voyeurism/exhibitionism, religious kink, sexualization of religious imagery, slow burn, mommy kink (sorry lol), sub!virgin!matt, experienced!pervy!reader

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 author's note: dont read this if you're religious - it will offend you. this is part two of me & u. you can read part one here. 💖 there will be more parts to this story, so stick around. also, disclaimer: don't spy on people and watch them without their permission. 😭 this is just fantasy.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: after getting to know and hanging out with the innocent, virgin christian boy who recently moved in next door, he starts exploring his sexuality with you, and the two of you start falling in love with each other.

me & u part two

"Your mom wasn't mad that you were smoking, was she?" Matt timidly asked you through the phone later on that day as he was rifling through kitchen appliances and finding a place to store them.

"No, I'm an adult. She doesn't care what I do. She was calling me in for lunch," you snorted, tugging at a loose thread on your blanket while you laid on your bed, still in your fairy dress and laying down with your feet kicking behind you.

Matt was thankful your mom wasn't upset with you, but he was annoyed that your first kiss with him was interrupted by something as menial as lunch.

"Well, what did you eat?" Matt wondered, trying to find a way to ask you to hang out again. "Just a sandwich and some macaroni," you told him. "W-what kind of sandwich?" Matt stammered, beating around the bush.

"Did you really call me to hear me talk about a turkey sandwich?" You chuckled. "I mean, I wanted to hear about your sandwich and to see if you wanted to hang out again," Matt shyly replied, biting his nails.

"Depends. What did you have in mind?" You inquired, teasing him and knowing you were going to say yes regardless of what he suggested the two of you do.

"We could go buy paint for my room. You could help me pick out a color," Matt said, hoping you'd say yes. "I'd love that. I'll be over soon. I just need to shower and get out of these clothes," you replied, smiling at how cute Matt sounded through the phone.

He couldn't help but picture you slipping out of your fairy dress.

"O-okay. Cool, I-I'll see you soon," Matt tripped over his words as you two hung up the phone. You put on a black tank top and a pair of jean shorts after your hasty shower, and you hurried over, eager to see Matt again.

You knocked on his door and patiently waited for him to answer. He was in a solid black t-shirt and jeans, and he was wearing a silver chain around his neck with a cross on it. "Ready to go?" You asked him, looking him up and down. "Yeah, let's go," Matt said, smiling at you and pulling his front door closed behind him.

On the ride to go pick out paint, Matt kept stealing glances at you at stoplights and stop signs, wondering if it would be the right time to try and re-do your first kiss, but every time he thought about leaning in, it felt too forced.

You could feel this, the way he was desperately looking for a chance to press his lips against yours, but you knew the perfect time would come again, and you didn't want to rush it.

You liked making him wait, but this didn't mean you weren't going to relentlessly tease him.

"Are you dying to hear how hard I came with my new toy?" You smirked over at Matt who looked back over at you wide-eyed. "Y-you already used it?" Matt studdered. "No. But I figured you were wondering if I had," you teased him. He blushed and grinned.

"I actually wanted to wait until I could use it in front of you," you admitted, your voice dripping with lust as you peered over at him and raised an eyebrow. "W-what?" He struggled to get out.

It was far too much fun to watch him blush and fidget. You couldn't get enough of his flushed, pink cheeks, his puppy dog eyes, and the desperate expression that would subtly make itself known everytime you'd tease him. And you knew just what to do and say to elicit these kinds of responses from him.

Once you guys stumbled upon a local store that sold paint, the two of you wandered over to the earth tones. "Now, really take your time making this decision. This is going to be the color of the paint in your room. You're going to have to see it every day," you told Matt when you saw all the different options they had.

Matt was scanning through different swatches of all the cool-toned paints when one caught his attention. "I like this one," he told you, pointing at the dark green shade on the page. "I love that color," you responded, taking the swatch from him and looking on the wall for the matching paint. "I think I found it," you told him, smiling and picking up a bucket.

Matt grabbed a second bucket of paint, a few paint brushes, some plastic covering, and the two of you paid for it all and left the store. "I'm so excited," Matt told you, his eyes lighting up as he spoke.

The two of you rode home in a comfortable silence, and you helped Matt carry the paint up the stairs to his room. You two decided to go your separate ways for the night to go eat dinner and get ready for bed, so you'd be well-rested for the next day.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon line, illuminating the summer evening as Matt walked you to your doorstep. "I had fun with you today," Matt told you, his eyes fixed on yours. "I did, too," you replied.

"Maybe tomorrow you could paint it with me. You know, unless you have other plans," Matt shrugged, trying to hide how disappointed he would be if you did. "You know, I'm sorry. I'm busy tomorrow. I'm helping the hot neighbor boy paint his room," you jokingly replied.

He chuckled at your response, and then he pulled you into a long hug. You smiled against his chest, savoring how it felt to hold him, and when you went to pull away, you glanced up at him lovingly.

The two of you felt that familiar magnetic pull, and he leaned down until his lips were gently locked onto yours. His kiss was soft and tender, like his personality, and you both felt that spark that you'd always heard people talk about but hadn't experienced up until this point.

He reached up and cradled your face, lightly running his thumb back and forth over your cheek. Your tongue gently swirled around against his, and for how inexperienced he was, he was an incredible kisser. He moaned against your lip before the two of you slowly pulled away.

You were both even more smitten than before. Matt blushed, and you let out a soft giggle. "I'll see you tomorrow," you whispered as you slipped into your front door.

Matt stayed put on your porch for a few minutes, buzzing from the intimate moment he'd just shared with you, and he slowly made his way back to his house, tucking his erection into his waistband that he got from kissing you.

Later that night, after eating a delicious dinner, taking a steamy shower, and brushing your teeth, you switched out your lamp and got into your warm bed. A few seconds after you climbed into your bed to finish off your day, Matt's light came on across the way.

You watched again as he stepped out of his bathroom in just a towel, running his fingers through his wet hair. He looked so hot. You held your breath as the fabric around his waist hit the floor.

You'd imagined Matt naked at least a dozen times since you'd met him, and you were finally seeing it in person. And although you weren't getting a close-up view, you could see his hard member standing at attention. And it was big.

You didn't believe in God, but you did thank whoever was out there listening as you watched Matt climb onto his bed, lay on top of his blanket, and begin to stroke himself.

You hoped he was thinking about you, and he was. He was replaying the moment you two had kissed.

You continued peering in through his window, admiring the way he tenderly ran his thumb over the tip, causing him to throw his head back. He kept his movements slow and drawn out at first, teasing himself.

You couldn't hear the sounds he was making, but you couldn't stop imagining his needy little whimpers. You intently focused on the way he fisted his gorgeous cock, guiding his hand up and down his shaft and his strokes becoming faster, rougher, and more urgent.

You spied on him for several minutes, unable to shift your gaze away from the glorious sight of the cute neighbor boy all alone in his room, tugging on his dick. Your pussy began throbbing and drooling without you even touching it as you kept your eyes locked on Matt and what he was doing to himself.

He started to squirm around beneath his own touch, bucking his hips up, and you watched in awe as several spurts of cum shot out of his tip and painted his stomach and chest.

His hand that was gliding up and down his length slowed to a stop, and he took the towel he'd just used after his shower to wipe himself off. Even the way he cleaned up the mess he made was incredibly sexy.

He put on a pair of pajama pants once he was finished and knelt down by the foot of his bed to pray. The show he put on for you was so hot and naughty that you almost wondered if you should start praying for forgiveness.

Before you could follow that thought too deeply or do anything about the wetness that had pooled between your legs, you found yourself drifting off to sleep while more images of Matt flooded your mind.

����𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

The next morning at about 5 a.m., you groggily rubbed your eyes and let out a yawn. You checked your phone for the time, and when you realized how early it was, you rolled over onto your other side and shut your eyes, hoping to be able to fall back asleep.

When all your efforts failed, you decided to go up to your treehouse, bringing a thin blanket with you for a morning marijuana and masturbation session - the two things that always helped you fall asleep.

You admired the way the sunrise lit up the view from your secret hideaway while you exhaled weed smoke, watching the way it danced and dissipated against the scenery before you. A tranquil state came over you, and you felt all light and airy after a few hits.

Being cautious not to burn yourself with the lit end of your joint, you shimmied out of your underwear and your pajama shorts and spread open your legs. You took your new suction vibrator, turned it on, and gasped as you lowered the buzzing toy onto your clit. It was unlike any vibrator you'd owned before, and it immediately had you moaning and shuddering at the sensation.

"Oh, Matt.." you softly whined over and over while you remembered the night before and the way you'd witnessed him make a mess all over himself. You took another puff from your joint. You were so enthralled by the stimulation and so lost in the way you were needily whining the neighbor boy's name, you didn't realize the man of your fantasies had followed you up to your treehouse and was watching you the same way you'd watched him.

He was already crawling in through the entrance before he realized he was intruding on an intimate moment you were having with yourself. He thought about clearing his throat or forcing out a cough to make his presence known, maybe even turning around and leaving before he could embarrass you, but he held his breath, and all he could do was stay put and admire how pretty and wet your pink pussy was.

It was the first time he'd ever seen anything like it in person, and he couldn't get enough. He grew incredibly hard as he studied the way your eyes were slammed shut and the needy and pleasured expression that overcame your face while you held your lit joint up to your parted lips. "Oh, Matt.." you whimpered again after exhaling the smoke, your legs beginning to quiver.

To Matt's horror, you opened your eyes, and while you were shocked that he was watching you, you didn't stop. "I-I'm so sorry. I woke up and looked out my window, and I saw you going to your treehouse. I thought you could use some company. I had no idea you were-" Matt started defending himself, but you cut him off.

"Shh. Please don't go. It feels so good to have you watching me," you whined with the vibrator still resting on your clit. "You're moaning my name an awful lot.." Matt murmured with his eyes fixated on the treasure between your thighs. You took another hit and slowly nodded at him.

"You like watching, don't you, naughty boy?" You managed to get out between your satisfied mewls. "I do, mommy," Matt whispered back, palming himself through the thin flannel fabric he had on. The way it sounded when Matt called you mommy sent waves of pleasure throughout your whole body. You couldn't take it anymore.

The way he peered down at your pussy with his puppy dog eyes, whimpering alongside you while you were playing with it was too good, and your whole body violently shook as you let out a few more needy moans.

"Holy shit," you and Matt both said in unison as your cum slowly leaked out of your pussy. "Did you just swear?" You asked wide-eyed and sneering at the innocent boy, turning off your toy. He threw his hand over his mouth, giving you a deer in the headlights look. "I-I didn't mean to," he stumbled over his words.

"Naughty, naughty boy," you seductively responded, putting out the joint and shaking your head. You noticed the wet spot on the front of Matt's flannel pajamas. "Did you finish just from watching me?" Your lips curled into a malicious grin. "I mean. I rubbed it a little through my pants, but yeah," Matt said in an embarrassed tone, looking down like he was ashamed.

"Come here, pretty boy," you gestured towards him. You pulled him close and pulled the thin blanket over the both of you. You guys looked into each other's eyes and shared another kiss, each of your lips touching and creating a circuit through which an electric feeling ran through your bodies.

You loved kissing Matt, and he loved kissing you. It was unlike any feeling either of you had felt before. You pulled him in even closer, and the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms in your treehouse as the sun came up.

A couple hours later, you woke up on the hard floor of your treehouse next to the cute neighbor boy who was softly snoring next to you. You didn't want to wake him because he was sleeping so soundly, but all it took was a subtle movement from you, and he began to stir.

"Morning," he softly groaned as he opened his eyes and stretched his arms out overhead. "I had fun with you earlier," you whispered to him, biting your lip. He smiled at you, his cheeks turning pink. "I did, too."

He couldn't get the image of you touching yourself out of his head. All he could think about was your pretty pink flower between your legs and the sound of his name escaping your soft lips.

Like he was most mornings when he first woke up, he was incredibly hard, and he subtly tucked his erection into his waistband, hoping you wouldn't notice, but you did.

"How about we both go change and get ready for the day? Then we can go get coffee? I'll buy," you asked Matt, gently running your fingers across his chest. "Yeah, sure," he whispered. The two of you went your separate ways for a bit, sharing another kiss before you did.

When you got back to your house, you showered, washed your face, and climbed into a pair of washed-out jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt that you wouldn't mind getting paint on. You grabbed a granola bar and an apple on your way out, skipping over to the neighbor boy's house.

Before you could even knock on his door, Matt was turning the knob and stepping out onto his porch. "Hey, long time no see," you told him, eyeing him up and down. He was wearing a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, and your opened your eyes wide when you realized you could see the faint outline of his cock through the cotton fabric.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Matt asked, teasing you. "You wore these on purpose, didn't you? You little temptress," you responded, nibbling on your lip. "I don't know what you're talking about," Matt casually responded, playing dumb and smirking to himself.

"Why'd you wear something so revealing then, hmm?" You wondered. "Why are you looking, perv?" Matt chuckled, getting into his orange truck.

The two of you started off down the road towards the nearest coffee shop, and as Matt drove, a naughty idea crossed your mind. You peered over at him, running your fingers along the inside of his thigh as he blew through a stop sign due to you distracting him.

He subtly gasped as you grazed his cock that was beginning to harden. It was the first time he'd ever been touched by anyone but himself. "W-what if God's watching?" Matt nervously questioned. "Then God's a little freak," you whispered back, sneering at him.

"You can't say that about God," Matt gasped, peering over at you. "But I just did," you said, poking the inside of your teeth with your tongue. "Please.. do it again," he sweetly whined. "You like that?" You asked, gently squeezing it, eliciting a whimper from the cute boy beside you. He bit his lip and shook his head yes.

"You better keep your eyes on the road, baby," you whispered, gently caressing it with your nails through the grey cotton that was beginning to strain. Before you knew it, the reactions you were getting from Matt as you teased his sensitive dick were getting to you. You felt your panties become all wet and sticky as Matt softly moaned beside you, using all his strength to pay attention to the road.

He approached a red light and gripped the steering wheel for dear life before letting out a loud groan. "Naughty boy. Like when mommy plays with you?" You asked seductively, moving your hand back and forth faster. "Oh, yes, mommy," he cried out.

He couldn't stop what was about to happen next. It was the first time anyone besides himself had ever given him that incredible release, and he let out a desperate mewl as he coated the inside of his pant leg with his cum.

"Wow. That was fast," you teased him. He looked over at you breathlessly with his glazed over blue eyes. "I tried to hold back as much as I could. I'm sorry," Matt responded quietly in a shameful tone, looking down at the mess he'd made in his sweats. "I know you did, baby. You did so good for me," you whispered, cradling his face and looking at him sympathetically.

The light switched to green, and he continued driving, embarrassed by how quickly he'd finished. "Well, I guess we're going through the drive thru," Matt stated, still blushing at the obvious wet spot.

He ordered the two of you coffee from the driver's side, for you, a frozen caramel drink and for himself, a black coffee, and you paid for it like you said you would. Matt thanked you for the coffee as well as the over-the-pants handjob you'd given him, and the two you made your way back to Matt's to get started on painting his room.

When you arrived back, you and Matt slipped into his house and up the stairs without alerting his dad, for which Matt was extremely grateful, so he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse as to why there was a questionable damp spot on the front of his sweats.

"I have to change my underwear for the second time today because of you. So scram," Matt told you, gesturing for you leave the room while he changed. "Oh, relax. I've already seen it," you shrugged and rolled your eyes.

"What?" Matt asked, widening his gaze in your direction. "Oh. Um," you innocently smiled at him. "What do you mean by that?" He asked. "I have a confession to make," you mumbled. Matt stayed quiet, but he looked at you intently, waiting for your admission.

You glanced across the way at your bedroom window. "So, my room is right there, and I can kind of see everything you do from the comfort of my bed," you pointed at the spot you watched him from last night, smirking and recalling how good he looked while getting off.

"You've been spying on me?" Matt asked accusingly, narrowing his blue eyes at you. "Not spying! I just happened to look up, and you dropped your towel," you said defensively.

"Oh, no. Did you see anything else?" Matt nibbled on his lip and shot you a nervous expression. "I might have watched you jerk off," you snickered. "I can't believe you watched me!" Matt exclaimed, feeling violated.

"And you're telling me that this morning when you walked in on me in my treehouse that you wouldn't have watched me until I finished if I didn't know you could see me?" You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms. "Ugh. Fine. I guess I get it," Matt voice became softer as he realized his hypocrisy.

"Plus, I thought it was really hot," you said in a lustful voice while your gaze was fixed on his pink lips. "I'm still changing in the bathroom," Matt smiled at you, grabbing a change of clothes and heading into the other room, loudly locking the door behind him.

When he came back out, he was in some old jeans that already had some paint on them. The two of you started opening up the cans and setting down plastic and newspapers to keep the paint off the floor. Matt knew he was going to love the color the second he dipped the brush in the dark green liquid and began stirring it around.

"Oh my god. It's gonna look so good!" You told Matt after you painted a stripe on the white wall. "I already love it. Especially because we're painting it together," he looked over at you and grinned. You continued coating the wall in the first layer of dark green while you and Matt talked.

"So, did you write in your diary about me last night?" You teased him. "Shut up," he scoffed at you. "That's no way to talk to a lady," you said, taking your brush and slapping paint onto his arm. He gasped and pulled back.

"Oh, there's nothing lady-like about you," Matt replied, taking his paint brush and touching your face with it. You looked at him in disbelief. "You're right. You're more of a lady than me," you said, sticking your hand in the paint and slapping Matt on the ass, leaving a dark green handprint on his back pocket.

The two of you started laughing until your cheeks hurt and your stomachs started aching. Matt pulled you into another kiss, and you smiled against his soft lips as the two of you explored the inside of each other's mouths, leaving one another with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Before the two of you could get too carried away, Matt broke off the kiss, and you got back to painting until you'd covered every wall in an even coat of dark green. You guys looked at each other, proud of the work you'd done together.

"You know, I don't usually fall for people this easy, but I really like you," you admitted to Matt once the two of you had finished and were sitting on his plastic-covered floor. "I don't usually fall for weed-smoking peeping toms, but I like you, too," Matt teased you.

part three posted 💖

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[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Episode 4: Cent'anni Breakdown

She goes through all these different levels of all these different personas: excellent daughter, overachiever, and this horrific feral state in Arkham. And it's not until the yellow dress that she finds the one that fits.

Kind of like sharks can't stop moving or they sink. It's that relentless pursuit of justice.

This changes her forever. She never comes back. Something so much bigger than her takes over in order to survive - Cristin Milioti

This was pointed out to me by my friend and, show of hands everyone, who else thinks it's unbelievably fucking sick that it is Sofia who gets to show up at the Falcone dinner table, wearing a thematically appropriate embodiment of her childhood trauma, and do a "None of you are safe" speech?

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

It probably felt odd to spend time with Sofia when we’re in a show called The Penguin. But I think it’s just as important so you can understand Oz psychologically. Even though I don’t view Oz as a hero or a villain, he is a greater villain in the show than anyone else. And for you to feel that way, I think you have to understand his primary antagonist more. And that’s Sofia.” - Lauren LeFranc

I gotta say I'm generally not enthusiastic about Penguin being depicted as overtly disgusting, like drooling and eating raw fish and all that Burton stuff (actually I do think the black bile is cool, but only so far as as that version goes), but for that opening scene, that was a spectacularly well-placed bit of grossness. Like this sheer craven animalistic ugliness of DeVito's Penguin descending for a second to show us how Sofia sees Oz, and even how right she is to do so at the moment because holy shit hahahahahaha

From what we can see of Sofia's pre-Arkham life, she was basically the Meadow Soprano of the family: The smart, overachieving golden child, whose social standing and eligitibility for leadership wouldn't even be up for debate if she was born a man like her loser brother (love AJ, relate uncomfortably to AJ, he's not at all morally comparable to Alberto, but he is very much a loser). Socially conscious and sticking up for victims but only if you don't poke too closely at her victim-generating family business, aware of some things but willfully blind to her own hypocrisy and insistent that daddy is still in average a good man who isn't as bad as people around her may say he is. I'd even say that the Sofia we see here is a more moral person than Meadow, although obviously being the daughter of Carmine Falcone is a much scarier, more isolating and horrific prospect than growing up the daughter of Tony Soprano (the ways in which the two Sopranos kids diverged and majorly prefigured American socio-political developments that kicked off after the show is a topic for another post).

(Also, I don't really want to bring up Sopranos comparisons because the shows are similar, they're really not, but I finished The Sopranos yesterday so they're gonna come up still)

I think Mark Strong does a really good job here filling in for John Turturro's role, even if he's not quite as good in it as Turturro. I think he plays the character differently in a way that works really well for this being a past version of Carmine, filtered through Sofia's vision. He is imposing and quiet and mighty, a lone titan of unquestionable power over the entire world, not even remotely someone to be defied or displeased. Turturro's Falcone was charismatic and affable and oozing with unspeakable yet casual cruelty, and I would have liked that here, but I like the idea that we're seeing a Carmine from before he was invincible, when he still needed Sofia to help him get Congressman Hill on the phone and still worried about the future of the family at Alberto's hands, a Carmine from when the Maronis were still around and he wasn't the sole ruling power in Gotham, who could still possibly lose even without vigilante intervention.

He is larger, more imposing, a stern and stoic father who had little use for pleasantries, and with no mirth to be had at the expense of the little people who think they can do anything against him that matters, even if he is getting there. I think the difference here adds a nice little arc to Carmine: there was a time where he needed to keep up appearences, there was a time where he raised his voice above a whisper to get things done, and there was a time where he wasn't the real mayor of Gotham. There was a time where he was a "proper" Don, when he acted like his comics counterpart, and none of that really became necessary over the following decade, when he grew more and more invincible and isolated and comfortable in this nightmare he made the city into.

They also confirm here that apparently the Iceberg Lounge/44 Below existed way back when Oz was just Sofia's driver, and it was already Carmine's prostitute slaughterhouse even then and Alberto knew about it. Possibly explains why Oz was handed the club in the first place, because the Falcones already called him Sofia's penguin and putting The Penguin in charge of the Iceberg Lounge would fit their idea of a laugh (and given how much Oz hates being called Penguin, he would hardly come up with the name himself)

Lmao, those dog comparisons I keep making really don't stop justifying themselves.

Credit again to Mike Marino and the prosthetics team for this younger Oz make-up, he strikes a very nice middleground between current Oz and the one we see as a kid.

Really like what we see of Sofia and Oz's dynamic here, again reinforcing that for all intents and purposes he was the sidekick in her HBO protagonist life. We see how Sofia likes his company and how she even kinda defends him from the family, but she really cannot bring herself to respect him very much and disdains him from the same very upper-class perspective the rest of the family does, she's just nicer about it. And in turn we see parts of where Oz's resentment to her comes from, and also the extent to which Oz was always lying in wait for an opportunity to get ahead regardless of her, his justified grievances as well as him being a conniving fuck. The really thin line this treads though, is that it establishes that neither of them were lying about how they meant something to each other, even if it doesn't help.

Sofia did have her life ruined partially because of Oz, she did endure horrific things while he got a promotion because he ratted her out to Carmine, and he very much did in part because he wanted to get ahead and saw an opportunity to do so. But also, Oz genuinely had no idea that this is what Carmine would do, and I think in large part this was also about keeping himself safe. It's not even that unbelievable that he was genuinely looking out for her, because holy shit you do not talk to the press about Carmine Falcone, daughter or not, and he tried warning her in the car before she rebuffed him and insulted him pretty deep for good measure. If Sofia talked to the press and would not stop talking (since he didn't know in the car that she rebuffed Gleeson) and shit started happening because of her snooping around, he would have absolutely gotten punished/murdered for it, it is not at all a stretch to assume that Carmine would have done something to Oz as punishment to Sofia.

Oz didn't plan any kind of misfortune, at no point did he mastermind her admission into Arkham (or even help keep her there with the letters, like the rest of the family), he just told Carmine something he shouldn't have, and neither of them expected anything too terrible was gonna come out of it. They both wildly underestimated what a complete scumbag Carmine is, but with Carmine (and the others) gone, there's nobody else to turn those grievances to.

Even if Oz could claim deniability for the Arkham thing, which he kinda can't but Sofia even tried to grant him anyway, he sure as shit can't for everything else he does in the opening minutes.

Oh hey it's Mr Mustache With The Broken Nose.

A thing that came to mind when I was watching the episode was the story of Rosemary Kennedy, JFK's sister whose father arranged for her to be institutionalized and lobotomized at age 23 as a reponse to "difficult" behavior. I'm not recounting it in more detail here because the rest of it is just too horrific, look it up yourself if you're curious. I remembered it because reading about Rosemary Kennedy ruined my fucking day and it still pumps up the breaks in my train of thought every now and then, so it came to mind watching this story about a young woman horrifically institutionalized and butchered for the sake of her wealthy family's image. Later I heard the podcast, and turns out that actually was exactly what Lauren LeFranc based Sofia's story on, which was nice. I'm glad it also fucks Lauren LeFranc up and that we both agree she should have gotten to wreak revenge on the entire family over it, thank you Penguin Show that continues to be made for me, this was nice.

Oh hey, Magpie. Just the name, yeah, but that was another nice surprise. I used to have a bit of a soft spot for Magpie, occasionally I thought there was something to get out of her and Penguin together, so a part of me likes that they put Magpie in The Penguin show even if just in name. Yes, she only exists to be annoying and die, but that's what she already tends to do anyway. And y'know, much as I may like her, she is still a John Byrne character, so she doesn't really deserve much more than that

Jesus Christ this episode gets uncomfortable.

I like that this establishes that Julian Rush kinda did make an effort to help her and kinda felt bad about it, but not nearly enough, and that he is very much a complicit contemptible creep who has it coming as much as any of the people who put Sofia in there.

Cannot state enough how much I appreciate that they didn't put any actual named Batman villains in the Arkham Asylum episode, guarantee a lot of creators would not resist the temptation. I mean okay I guess there is a Ventris already in Batman but, come on, you know who I mean. This did not need any references to like, Jeremiah Arkham or Jonathan Crane or Hugo Strange or any of that, and that's not a diss on any of those guys, it's just that unlike pretty much every other Batman story, this episode does not undercut it's point about the horrific institutional horrors dehumanizing and destroying Sofia by pinning it on a chief boogeyman supervillain that Batman is going to fight later. Dr. Ventris is not responsible for the systemic rot that got her there nor is he the sole orchestrator/perpetrator of the abuse it's inmates suffer, he simply answers to those, and thus perpetuates them, by doing his job in a mental institution.

I am still haunted by the inmate committing suicide with a fork. It is so fucked up that Sofia was tortured and goaded by the doctors into murdering another inmate, and when that failed, they tortured her again and again and again until she snapped. The whole point was to push Sofia beyond the breaking point to justify further incarceration. The doctors just standing there letting her kill Magpie.

I want Dr.Rush to die.

I have more thoughts on Arkham, but I'd call this the most horrific take on Arkham so far, because it is the most honest take on Arkham so far. Even at it's most run-down and monstrous, it is usually never at all into question that Arkham Asylum is necessary, because if it wasn't there, all the crazies would run rampant in Gotham. Over the years, it's monstrousness has always been tied directly and specifically to it's inmates, and whenever people have pointed out the shoddy conditions and inhospitable environment of Arkham as a factor for repeat offenders, it's pretty much always as a fandom joke outside of Batman stories proper, and if there is anything wrong with the way the Asylum works, it is always the fault of particularly evil villains attached. A Lock-Up, a Jeremiah Arkham, a Hugo Strange, etc. Arkham Asylum is in general a Batman concept that's raised a lot of discussions and calls for revision over the years, and a lot of the issues with it tie into larger issues around superhero depictions of the carceral system, that @artbyblastweave went into here.

Here, in large part because this is a realistic world and a Gotham without a rampaging supervillain contingent of repeat offenders who can magically break out constantly, it is never into question that the patients are the victims of this system, and if they are being turned into potential supervillains, it is because of Arkham inflicting this on them. This is an Arkham Asylum that remains a nightmarish, horrific force in this world, but not because it's Castle Dracula where all the crazy villains hang out, not even just because the rest of Gotham is hopelessly rotten and corrupt, but because it's a mental institution and depicted accordingly. It gets to dig into the real life horrors mental institutions inflict on it's patients without having to justify those measures as benign or necessary to keep crazy crimes from happening. Frankly, this take on Arkham Asylum has been long overdue.

In every form of Batman media, just about the worst thing that can happen at any given moment is Arkham Asylum falling and it's inmates escaping into the streets, that's generally what happens when Batman needs to deal with apocalyptic stakes (which is why of course it happens all the fucking time now). Here, that scenario would be regarded with cheer, because the worst thing that can happen in this universe is being sent to Arkham Asylum. It isn't just Batman's unofficial personal prison / punching gallery, if anything it massively raises the stakes on this Batman's next adventures, because now we know this is what's waiting for him if he gets caught and unmasked.

I like that Sofia and Oz are both trying to save/protect those they see as younger versions of themselves, while inflicting on them the kinds of tragedies that ultimately created them

Oz reached out to this poor disabled kid from the streets and is showing him the ropes, while also belittling him as a nobody and distorting his worldview and dragging him into life or death cornered scrapdog situations chipping away at his morals. Sofia saves her little niece who laughs at bad table manners and doesn't quite do what her family says, gently lulling her to sleep so she can kill her mom and her entire family.

Extremely important that Sofia Falcone makes her formal arrival as a villain by showing up dressed in a sexy yet fitting extension of her trauma / cultural reference (The Yellow Wallpaper / the walls in her mother's bedroom), before putting on a mask and enacting Gotham's first Mass Casualty Gas Attack, we love to see it.

I was frankly already calling Sofia one of my favorite Bat-villains even before this episode, I'm just glad everyone seems to be on the same page with me now. I'm seeing a lot of posts on Twitter and Instagram talking about how they're rooting for Sofia instead of Oz, that she deserves to win this war, and good, fucking amazing that they're doing this, again, this show is hitting home runs I could not have foreseen.

It is incredible what a character they've made out of Sofia, and the fact that we now see Oz as her antagonist as much as we see Sofia as his, and the fact that if Penguin wins, he will win this as a villain. He will steal a victory he does not deserve and rub it in your face and he will make the children of the world cry for it as any villain worth his name should be doing, and it frankly wouldn't be much of a fight if Sofia wasn't every bit the complicated, engaging protagonist he is. Lauren LeFranc claimed that she sees Sofia is the closest the show has to a hero even if she is not, and this is the episode that sold everyone on it.

Halfway through the show and it's only gotten better and better, can't wait for what's coming next.

[butwhyduh]

Locker Room

Summary: Post workout locker rooms are like their own world. Especially Titan’s tower.

Warning: smut. Don’t do this irl

“Good job, everybody,” Nightwing said with a grin. He has barely had a glean of sweat to show he was even working out. “Practice your individual skills or hit the showers.”

Half the people walked out and the other found their own niche. You were laying on your back on the cool mat just trying to not die. A shadow stood over you.

“Need help,” said a soft male voice above you before offering a hand. Tall and built like a brick, there was a lot to be intimidated of the Red Hood. But wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless hoodie that had headphone strings sticking out made him seem so normal.

He pulled you up to stand. He was so pretty with wavy black hair with just a tuff of white. You’d watched him plenty but rarely interacted with him.

“Will I ever get used to this,” you asked with a huff of laughter. You tried to ignore the way his sweaty hoodie stuck to his skin in certain places.

“No? Yes? I can’t take Goldie seriously but,” he shrugged. “Maybe you should drink your water next time?” He offered while tossing you the bottle. You chugged it like you had been walking in a desert for a month. “Wow,” he said, watching the water messily fall on your shirt that was already drenched. If you wouldn’t have to clean it up, you’d probably pour the water on your head.

Realizing you had an audience to your gremlin behavior, you tried to wipe the water from your mouth but it wasn’t exactly helpful as you were soaking wet.

“Yeah maybe more inside than out. I’ve got hit the showers,” he said, bemused.

“Same,” you replied.

The showers were more like a locker room with little stalls with paltry curtains that were only a little more private than just open stalls but everyone used them as if normal. Most people understood the unspoken rules but there had been more than one time where you’d seen kori brushing her hair in the nude by a mirror completely oblivious to the social norms.

You didn’t even bother with the hot water but relaxed into the cold water finally cooling your overheated skin. It didn’t take much for you to relax into the shower and forget about the outside world. A full 30 minutes later you were pruny and decided to climb out of the water.

Forgoing the bra and sweatpants, you just slid into your oversized tee shirt like dress. You were just going to your room where you would veg and watch Netflix. Most people had already left to go do whatever they needed and you could finally see the mirror to brush your own hair.

“‘Scuse me,” said a man to your right and you scooted over as the Red Hood slid up to the sink with a shave kit. You didn’t even know what to call him outside of work. And his pretty blue eyes kept your attention longer than you’d admit.

“I’ve never seen you without a mask,” you said. He shrugged.

“Seems like a shower would be a safe spot. It’s just my eyes I cover anyways,” he added.

You couldn’t just stare into his eyes so you looked down and boy was that a mistake. He had a huge y shaped scar that you didn’t even want to know how he got but you couldn’t help but notice how insanely fit he was. He definitely had visible muscle but it was also clear the boy could put some food away.

You tried to focus on your own stuff while he shaved. He wasn’t meat to stare at.

“I don’t even know your real name or what else to call you besides Red Hood,” you added.

“Oh… you can call me Jason,” he replied softly. He stretched his neck to better reach a spot and you looked at the cord of muscle that moved. Did he know he was beautiful??

“You missed a spot,” you said when it looked like he was going to rinse his face, not that you had been watching. He looked in the mirror but it was on the underside of his jaw. “No, here,” you said pointing to the spot. He turned and missed it with the razor.

“Here?”

“No, can I?” You asked and he handed you his razor. You gently turned his face to run the razor along the underside of his jaw. Your skin heated up as he watched you shave his face. Somehow you had slid between him and the sink to get at the spot. “It’s on both sides,” you said and he willingly turned his neck the opposite direction.

He smelled nice like a mint soap and you could see the dampness of his skin being this close. Your own lack of clothing felt obvious at this point. He could probably see your nipples if he wanted to. What did this look like?

“Got it?” He asked and you just nodded and handed him to razor. He sat it behind you and grabbed the towel on your other side to wipe his face. He had caged you in but you didn’t mind. In fact your heart was hammering in your chest.

His eyes looked down at you and down your clothing, stopping for a few seconds at your chest before returning to your eyes. You looked down at his mouth. He leaned down until he was just a breath from your lips.

It took just a tilt of your head to press your lips to his. He gripped the sink as you kissed. You slid a hand up behind his neck to pull him closer. He took it as an invitation to push you up on the counter. You gasped and wrapped both arms around his neck.

One arm held your hip as the other did its best to thread in your hair. His tongue swiped across your lip and you opened your mouth with a little moan. Fuck. You never imagined you’d do this. You pulled back just enough to bite his lip and he groaned while placing his hand on your thigh.

Barely controlling himself, he pulled his lips back only to rest his forehead on yours.

“Not here,” he breathed and you weren’t sure if he meant to tell you or himself.

“No one is here,” you said pulling him even closer with your legs around his waist. His lips instantly met yours with a desperation that wasn’t there a minute before. He pushed you back with his kisses and your back pressed against the mirror while your shirt did little to hide your underwear with your thighs open.

“Fuck,” he breathed when you began kissing your way down his neck. One of your hands slid down his chests, feeling the muscles move with each breath, each side of your hand down. His hand gripped your thigh tightly as if to control himself. But as you slid your fingers along the crotch of his gym shorts, he seemed to lose control. His hand slid up your thigh to cup your pussy through your panties and you could feel a pulse in your clit.

He was growing hard in your hands as you massaged and stroked him. He pulled back from kissing to nip at your collarbone and down your chest. Only his other hand behind your back kept you from falling over as he bent to take your peaked nipple in his mouth. You arched into his touch as his mouth teased your breast while his fingers slid along your slit through your panties.

You pressed your fingers through the band of his pants to grip him properly. “Fuck,” he gasped and you grinned. He pushed your panties to the side to properly finger you. You almost arched off the counter as he slid two fingers inside you. You both just enjoyed the sensation for a minute of pleasuring each other.

“Want you,” you breathed in his ear and he whined. You shoved his pants down and his hood pushed forward until you could feel his tip next to your core.

“You sure,” he asked as if it took every part of him to remain calm.

“Fuck me,” you replied and that’s all it took for him to push in. He pulled your shirt off before starting to thrust. One hand held your hip tightly and his lips desperately kissed you.

The door to the locker room opened and Jason just growled, “get the fuck out,” but didn’t stop. The door closed suddenly. You knew in the future you be mortified but right now the only thing you cared about was making him keep doing the things he was doing to you.

It took just a few runs of his thumb across your clit to have you clenching around him while gasping his name. He thrust through your high before pulling out to cum on your stomach. You both panted and stared at each other.

“Fuck,” Jason said while giving you a towel to clean off with. You sat up awkwardly. Did he regret it already? “I didn’t mean- shit- I was trying to ask you out,” he huffed out with an awkward laugh. “Not this.”

“I mean- you still can,” you replied while pulling your shirt on.

“Do you wanna-“

“Thought you’d never ask. There’s this restaurant I’ve been wanting to try,” you replied before he could even ask. He huffed a laugh.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

Banging on the locker room door made you jump. “If you hoes are done, I need a shower! Don’t forget to clean up!” Called a recognizable voice from outside the door.

“Go away Roy,” Jason called.

“Congrats bro! Finally! But hurry up!”

You flushed and you both laughed. “Finally?”

“Don’t ask.”

[thealbatrovss]

wind song // logan(2017) x fem mutant reader

(mini series)

synopsis : you dream of a life without your powers. logan needs them to help locate some dead guys cash. a roadtrip to the Nevada desert with your ex was always bound to be a mistake. but, maybe it wasn’t.

Chapter 1 - blood money

chapter summary: after breaking up over a year ago, you reunite with logan at a diner in Texas. he needs a favor.

warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI - suggestive content, mature themes/subject matters, death, swearing, eventual violence and smut.

word count: 2k+

wind song masterlist // my other masterlist

The coffee was burnt. You pretended to like it that way.

The white mug was too hot to hold with your hands, so you opted for a straw instead. You found it in the corner of the booth. That earned some stares from the old couple eating lunch a few tables over and your waitress.

“That’s gonna melt the plastic right into your drink, you know?” Her Texan accent wasn’t as thick as the other waiters. There was red lipstick on her teeth. “Just wait for it to cool down.”

You picked the plastic tube from the liquid, inspecting it. It was still intact. “Looks fine to me.” And you popped it back in. There were sugar packets on the table. They reminded you of pixie sticks. You started to feel nauseous.

The lady shook her head, putting her notepad with your orders away. “Whatever gets you through the day.” And she left to go get your food. Or complain to her coworkers about the woman melting plastic instead of sugar into her coffee.

You wanted to drink it like normal. But you’d used a similar cup like this before to solve a case a few months back. It just didn’t feel right. Objects never did after they helped you locate the missing person. Another strange aspect of your powers. It’s like the people lived on through their things.

You could see his car pulling in through the driveway. He was right on time. Like always.

All kinds of emotions were running through you. You’d just arrived here out of state for a funeral. You were still wearing the black dress from attending this morning. Logan had called as you debated in your car whether to attend the after-services or not. Guess you got your answer. But it was still a surprising one.

You hadn’t seen or heard from him in over a year. Not since the incident.

The front doors opened, and the bell rang to let everyone know. You sat up a little straighter, nervous fingers folded in your lap.

Logan seemed to bring down the entire room as soon as he walked in. He wore a white tank top, with a white button-up over it. His black suit jacket was covered in specks of dirt and dust. His beard was a lot fuller now, his hair a bit shorter. Both growing gray. It glistened with the beads of something that smelled like moonshine.

For the first time in your life, you could see his age catching up to him. And the exhaustion. It was written on the bags underneath his eyes. In the way he held his aching knuckles to his chest, staring at where his claws hid.

He took a quick swig from his flask, ignoring the waiter's glare from behind the main counter. He was looking for you, drink still in hand.

You let him find you.

“Nice dress.” He started with. Your heart rate increased. You bit the inside of your lip. He still had that gravitational pull that made people want to either run and hide or get closer to him. He slid into the booth across from you. The sugar packets made shaking noises. He left his flask out on the table. “What’s the occasion?”

Your hands played with the black fabric ending at your knees. “Funeral.”

Logan nodded his head in understanding. He took out his glasses, looking at one of the menus.

“Oh, I’ve ordered already.”

“And I’m hungry as shit.”

“I ordered for you.” You emphasized.

Logan paused, staring at a picture of a salad. His eyes peeked out over the menu. “The usual?”

You nodded, swirling the straw around in the cooling cup of coffee. “Most places have what you like.”

He removed his glasses, rubbing at the irritated spot on his nose. “Next time, let me get my own tab.”

When she returned with the food, you ate in silence.

Logan stuffed a plate of sausages in his mouth before finishing attacking the eggs. He occasionally reached for his flask, like it was something he had ordered.

You didn’t feel like eating. The sugar was grinding in your ears. You’d have to take this sandwich to go. The coffee was going cold now.

“So,” you started. You were suddenly aware of how sticky the seat was beneath you. “Why did you call?”

“Why did you answer?” He kept eating. His fork made noises when it hit the plate.

You thought about the weeping mother and the small casket. “Well, it was either this or dwell on my last case. And I’d rather talk with an old friend than think about any of that.”

He stopped chewing, swallowing hard. “Well, then you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Your brows knitted. You leaned back against the headboard. “I’m listening.”

Your ex took another shot of the hard alcohol. It was still the afternoon. But alcohol didn’t have the same effect on him as it did on other people. His abilities wouldn’t allow it. But it was still a problem.

He stuffed the flask back in his shirt pocket, only after it was empty. “I’ll make it short. A client of mine owes me a lot of fucking money.”

You crossed your arms. “How much?”

He put up five fingers. You remembered how they used to squeeze your hand in comfort. Sometimes they’d wipe away your tears. Other times they gripped your thighs and pulled you closer.

It was bittersweet. Those sweet and intimate memories. Even as the world continued to go to shit and mutants became less and less, you still had each other. Until something took that all away. You could recall the whistle ringing from your lips. Your cheeks were cold during the early days of fall. Logan was yelling about how you should’ve seen this coming. But he knew how your abilities worked. They didn’t work on the living.

“5,000?” You guessed.

“50,000.” He corrected.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus. Were you his chauffeur or were you sleeping with him?”

He smiled. It was a weak one but it was still there. If you weren’t so used to it you would’ve missed it. “Look, he was a rich asshole who promised me a big tip. That's all.”

“That’s not a tip. That’s my salary.”

Logan set his utensils down after taking one last bite. “Then you need a fucking raise.”

“Or a new profession.” You joked. But it came out flat.

Being a private detective could’ve been a more fulfilling job. If it wasn’t for the fact that your mutant gene gave you the ability to track any person or creature. But only if they were dead.

You’ve worn this dress too many times to too many funerals.

Logan seemed like he was fighting with himself, whether to respond to that confession or not. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled out a fancy fountain pen from his jacket. “This is all I have of his.” He placed it on the table in front of you. “Will this be enough?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “I haven’t even agreed to anything yet. What makes you think he’s dead in the first place?”

“Because, when he called saying he had the money, I heard gunshots. Then the phone went out. It’s been three weeks.”

“And no one’s reported him missing?” That was odd.

“Nope.” He looked from your eyes to your lips. “He never even told me where he was. I think he was out of state. And before you ask, yes, I already tried to trace the call. Nothing.”

The waitress came by, handing you a to-go box and whisked away his empty plates. Her eyes lingered noticeably longer on Logan as she walked back into the kitchen.

You continued your questioning. “Does he have any family? Maybe they know where he is.”

“No. He told me he was an only child. Parents died by the time he was 40. No other living relatives. People say a lot of shit when they’re drunk in the back of a car. Or just damn lonely.” His hand instinctively went to rest on the flask in his pocket. He motioned towards the pen. “If you need more than this, I can get it.”

You hesitated to pick it up. “You know how much I hate doing this.”

“I know.” He licked his lips, leaning towards you. “Yet, you’re still looking for people.”

It was true.

As much as you hated your powers, as much as they hurt; they could be used to help. Even if that meant only ever bringing people back to their families dead instead of alive.

A quote from your old Professor echoed in your mind. From a time long lost in the unforgiving hands of time and a powerful mind.

“Sometimes, doing the right thing can hurt you. But, it can give peace to the ones that you’re helping. What you give up, you give away. For good or for evil, now that’s up to you.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. An old friend was asking for your help. But would he do the same for you? There was a time when you would’ve never doubted it. You hated yourself for that.

The pen felt icy in your hands. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe he was dead. You could already feel something beating through the object. It didn’t feel alive. “When do we start?”

A glimmer of light radiated off of Logan’s rugged face. For a moment there, it was like he was his old self again. The light flickered out just as quickly as it came. “Tomorrow morning. 8 am. I’ll pick you up.” He placed a 20-dollar bill next to your half-empty coffee cup.

You stared at the dead man on the paper. “I’ve already paid.”

“This is for the tip.” He stood, a slight uneasiness in his steps. He seemed so tired.

Were his regenerative powers still getting worse?

He paused before heading out, messing with the cuff of his sleeves. “Don't worry. I’ll make sure you get paid for this.”

I don’t want your damn money. I want to be rid of this haunting.

You let him think you were deep in thought. You tapped your chin. “I’ll take 60%.”

Logan put a hand on his hip. He sighed. “Now don’t piss me off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Would never dream of doing that.” You packed your untouched sandwich away in the box.

Logan cursed under his breath. It sounded like he was muttering between fuck it and fines. When he left the small diner the room felt lighter again.

You watched him drop his keys in the parking lot and stomped them further into the Texas dirt.

“See, I told you!” You turned to your waitress who was pointing at your cup. The plastic was starting to crinkle and melt. You could see it poking out from the brim of the liquid. “Next time, just drink the damn thing normally.”

I would if I could.

Logan was already gone by the time you looked back out the window. The sugar packets shook as you stood to leave. The cup rattled. The pen pulsed in your hands. Like it was trying to mimic a heartbeat it no longer had. You could feel your powers radiating through the objects.

That night you played with the lamentation on the corner of a photo.

Your motel room was small but surprisingly homely. There was a TV playing at full volume in the room next door. It kept you awake. Sounded like an action movie. It seemed to go on forever.

The photo was of you and Logan. You still kept it in your wallet. It was hidden behind old coupons and a stick of gum. Sometimes you forget it was even there. Most of the time you self soothed by peeling off the lamentation from the corners. The sides looked like the melting straw in your cup of coffee.

It was 9 pm. You ate most of your sandwich. A corner piece sat in the to-go box on your bed. Someone finally shut the TV off. A dog was barking in the parking lot. Cigarette smoke hugged the air. You put the photo back into your wallet, this time behind your credit card.

“Logan’s phone.” You heard Caliban's voice sing through the line. “Sometimes mine if he lets me use it.”

It was nice to hear from him again. A tracker similar to you but only with mutants. He was always mesmerized by how your powers worked. He used to show you the sketches of the figures you blew into the wind when you whistled. You wondered if he still kept those drawings.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“I know. He’s still got your contact name in his phone.”

You smiled a little. “Is he there?”

“He’s working. Some bachelor party, I think. He’s probably pissed he left his phone here.”

You looked at the fountain pen sitting on the nightstand. “When he gets back, could you tell him we’re headed to Nevada.”

“Nevada? What the hell are you two going to do up there?” He paused for a brief moment as if he just remembered. “Oh yeah. The blood money.”

“Did he promise you a cut too?”

He let out a laugh. “Logan can hardly part with a 5-dollar bill these days. I’ll probably get paid shit for watching Charles while you two go off getting married in some shitty casino or something.”

“It’s just a business trip. Nothing more.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, my friend.”

There was a storm happening outside. The wind howled like a river of ghosts against the motel walls. You thought you heard old teammates and friends whispering in it.

A cough came from the other line. “By the way, if you come across a Vegas snow globe, I’d very much like to add it to my collection.”

“Sure.” The howling outside continued. “Take care, Caliban.”

“You don’t want to ask how Charles is doing?”

You took a sharp inhale. You didn’t need to ask. You knew exactly how he was doing. And you didn’t want to talk about him right now. Maybe some other time. You kept putting it off. You’d deal with that guilt another time.

“I’ll get you that snow globe.” And you hung up.

You fell asleep, still wearing that black dress.

[crushedsweets]

WWHAT WUD THE CREEPS DO 4 HALLOWEEN I MUST KNOW

anon... yes i like this. general disclaimer this is tailored to my au !! stuff under cut

toby likes it, thinks its fun and stuff. he's not the type to dress up beyond like, maybe a jacket and a mask or whatever, but he'll go and buy(steal) stupid ass halloween decorations from spirit or the dollar store. there r several mini skeletons sitting around his cabin. he treats it like elf on the shelf, but. . . skeletons... def will sit around and watch scary movies with a bag of halloween candy . totally carves pumpkins with whoever will do it with him

tim wouldnt really want to do much cuz he's just tired, but he probably would put out a small little pumpkin and bowl of candy outside his door. he's in an apartment so he doesnt really get trick or treaters. will prob buy some candy after halloween so its on sale

brians so annoying omfg(lovingly) he'd buy a fake arm, blood, and wig and stick it in his trunk so it looks like an arm is sticking out. yall know what im talking about. him and tim share an apartment so he'd prob try to actually put something simple around it, like some plastic pumpkins, but nothing really big. he is also a grown man with no kids, so he doesnt find himself going all out for these things

natalie. ok i recently made it where she's either already a tattoo artist, or learning to be a tattoo artist or whatever, but i could see her and some coworkers setting up the shop all halloweeny. she's so fucking tall that they'd just call her over for all the spider web stuff. she thinks its fun and she likes halloween a lot so it's cool. she'd get a huge kick out of doing halloween tattoos during october too. goes and hangs out with toby/nina for it

nina goes to parties . she HAS to get a whole new costume for every party. its super wasteful but she doesnt care all that matters is shes sexy. every year without fail she is a sexy gothic vampire for one of the parties. she works at hot topic, BUT she'd absofuckinglutely get a second job at spirit halloween for october. she's a creepy galll... def sets her apartment up super cutely, brings toby and nat over so they can carve pumpkins with her, tries to dress them up, etc. tons of halloween posts on her social medias too LOL shes so cute

jeff would prob also go to more like... weirder ( ?) parties with creeps and scary people roaming around just doing crazy shit. warehouse shit. prob finds someone to bring home and kill. he thinks its fun, its easier to just go about his days looking the way he does, he loves scaring the fucking shit out of people. doesnt decorate or wear costumes though, says its cringe LMFAO. hates how hyped nina is about it

jane and mary would totally decorate, but in a much more.. ? elegant ? way. like those tall skinny candles, swap out their doormat for something halloween themed, really nicely done pumpkins for some reason. jane would want to host a cute little halloween dinner for uni friends. probably just gets simple costumes, like she'd put on a witch hat and black dress and thats all, but its cute. takes sally (and ben, if sally asks him to come) trick or treating.

sally draws tons of drawings, loves disney halloween marathons, paints on pumpkins(doesnt like the smell of gutting them), etc. she'd decorate with jane cuz she lives w her. she loves it so much but she still gets scared of the animatronic things at stores and stuff LOL. begs ben to trick or treat w her. really embarrassing for ben

ben wouldnt do much besides like. he'd get worse w his internet trolling (scaring the fucking shit out of teens on the internet), start doing more actual hauntings bc nobody will believe his victims during october which means slender wont find out he's doing it. he would not want to go trick or treating..but he'd go with sally with a pillow case and he'd try to awkwardly stand further back but the ppl at the door would always b like 'aw dont be shy come here!' LOL

jack doesnt celebrate it, his family didnt really celebrate it much when he was human so he doesnt do it now. he does get kinda sad during holiday season though, cuz of obvious reasons, but halloween isnt the strongest Pain for him

liu is so fucking miserable theres no way. jk he'd set out like, some pumpkins and maybe get one of those lights that project ghosts onto his garage, but he wouldnt want to go all out or do anything to the inside of his house. jeff really liked halloween when he was younger so its kinda like ouch but he's getting overit. i guess. . .

kate doesnt..celebrate anything........ but when she does occasionally visit the cabin, maybe for food or a shower, and she sees toby decorated, she'd be happy to see it. she's kinda unsettling to be around, but she'd sit down and watch a movie with him in silence. then bring a massive bag of candy to the mine w her w/o telling toby. he just had to cope

ann and lulu dont do anything in the hospital. they dont really have any concept of time........... or the resources to decorate... and they dont get any trick or treaters... cuz theyre...stuck in an abandoned hospital in the woods . . . yeah..

ty for ask anoni like this one. very simple but very sweet

[atarathegreat]

Keigo Takami- Clean

Red carpet events were a stupid prelude to even dumber interviews. Pictures and reporters that didn't actually care about anything but a story and some clout.

"Hawks! Hawks, over here!" Cameramen yelled, and we'd turn like we were puppets and smile. Every third step was a turn, a pose, a smile. I'd grown bored the second we walked through the main door. I hated it. My eyes burned from the flashing lights and I couldn't even hear myself think over the many yelling people. Keigo tucked my loose bangs back behind my ear, his smile was almost as blinding as the cameras. That picture would be in an article in a few short hours.

"You look beautiful, I can't wait to see all the press you're gonna get!" Keigo smirked, his smile falling when a certain idiotic song began to play.

They played songs to let the heroes know who they were about to call up for an interview. Keigo's song was drug related, it was the same every time. It brought down his mood exponentially and worsened my already bad temper. It was like he wanted to hide in his red velvet tux coat, and it was impossible to miss the way his feathers puffed up. I felt my temper go up another notch, anger hurting my chest a little.

"Y/n, a few questions, please?" A slim woman asked from across the deep velvet ropes.

I wandered to the edge of the carpet, pulling at the bottom of my dress so I wouldn't trip. Keigo wanted to match as much as we could so he got me into a red lacey dress that had faux feathers over the sweetheart neckline.

The woman looked rather serious, "Miss Y/n, can you tell us what you're wearing tonight?"

A drag of a question, but it was better than the usual about my relationship with a pro hero, "She's called Crimson Rider by an unknown seamstress out in the countryside. Plunging sweetheart neckline with lace sleeves, and guess how much! Only one hundred thirty dollars, can you believe that! And look at how long the bottom is, I've nearly tripped over it twice today."

Anyone could've swam in the sickly sweet voice I put on, it left a sour taste in my mouth from how thick it was. The woman didn't seem to mind at all, just smiled as I answered her questions. Hawks' fans would have a fit over the price being even that high. It wasn't my problem, Keigo bought what he knew I'd wear, and he kept it cheap. Well, cheaper that he normally did, to my relief.

"You're engaged to the number two hero, wouldn't you like something a bit more… extravagant?" The woman asked, her forehead wrinkled in mock confusion. A tell-tale sign that she wasn't interested in the slightest.

I shook my head, "I don't need high end clothes to be happy. As long as Hawks comes home to me alive, I'll be okay. And he bought this as a gift, I buy all my clothes because he gets the expensive things."

The man had a horrible habit of trying to spoil me. Not that I hated it, but he could be cheaper about it.

Keigo still hadn't smoothed himself out by the time I returned to him, so I stood behind him and unruffled his wings. He sighed, "Why do they always have to play this song? Couldn't they pick something else for once?"

A smile replaced his upset face as he noticed what I was holding, "Hummingbird, you didn't! Are you trying to cause a scene?"

Nodding, I kissed him. Cameras went crazy and the flashes would've blinded me if my eyes had been open. My left arm was outstretched, Keigo's three year sober coin held so everyone would see the gold metal with black lettering. I used my quirk to stick it to his jacket before we entered for the interview, it wouldn't be missed in any tabloids or photos.

Keigo sat more confidently while he spoke, angled almost purposefully to show the coin. I answered the questions that were aimed at me and kept my cool.

Our interviewer had been decent and had skipped plenty of question cards, I was starting to enjoy the moment, "How is it being engaged to such a fiery woman?"

"She's the best!" Keigo smiled, draping a soft wing over my shoulders, "My hummingbird keeps me grounded, sane and ready for life. She got me into rehab, helped me turn my life around. I'm the luckiest man ever to have her."

When I'd met the birdbrain he was strung out on every drug he could get his hands on. It was public information, articles even had photos of him doing them at parties. Keigo hated that it was public, he knew he could never escape it no matter how far he ran.

Keigo had been angry when I'd filled our living room with representatives from rehabs, in his emotional rampage he'd accidently slapped the side of my head and my left ear now constantly had a ringing in it. I didn't blame him, as he hadn't meant to, but he definitely still blamed himself.

That was four years and one slip up ago.

"And you, Miss L/n, how is life as a heroes fiance?" The man asked, a fake smile plastered on his lips. I felt my stomach dropping.

"Aside from the worry that he won't come home to me, it's great. Hawks is the sweetest man I've ever met. I never have to worry about anything." I smiled at my blond partner, "He's attentive and caring, there's never a morning I don't wake up without breakfast made or feeling loved."

The interviewer shuffled his cards, scowling at the next question, "Do you ever worry that he'll fall into his old habits? Being a womaniser and an addict?"

All the respect left my body as soon as he stopped talking, "His hero facade isn't who he really is, you might be surprised to find that we met organically through a business party."

Her tried to back track, but I'd already seen the shame and guilt on Keigo's face, "We're done here. Thank you, have a good night. Let's go, love."

Once we entered our home, Keigo unzipped the back of my dress and disappeared into the bathroom. I would've followed if I hadn't known he wanted to be left alone. Sometimes he needed the solitude and I was always there when he wanted the love right after.

It bothered him more than anything that his past was haunting him, I was the one who shut down any and all attempts of reporters to bring it up. Keigo had gotten used to me going along with him and stopping the press, he himself wasn't the type to leave those things on his own. My pushiness only grew with his discomfort, I wasn't above breaking things either. Cameras often fell victim to my aggressions.

He was still hiding when I was done getting changed, only my makeup needing to be removed. I knocked on the door, hearing a faint "Come in, Birdie."

Keigo was in the shower, peeking around the curtain, "Makeup?"

I nodded and leaned over our sink, gently scrubbing with the remover pads, "It gets itchy after a while, honestly. I'd never wear it if your secretary didn't book me each time."

His wet arms wrapped around my waist, "I'll let her know not to include you next time, that sound good?"

The room fell silent, aside from the shower going behind us. I pretended that I was still removing the persistent powder from my face so he could stay pressed against me. It felt like sometimes he was just wanting anything to anchor him back to earth, and he always found me. I never got bored of him in any capacity, even when some would call him clingy.

"I'm still sober, hummingbird, I promise. I haven't touched that shit in years, and I won't ever again. I promise you I won't, I promise…" His sad voice made my heart stop. He'd never sounded so defeated, not even when he had failed the program the last time, "That's not who I am anymore. Not who I'll ever be again."

"I know, birdbrain, that's why I defend you everyday." I shuffled around to hold him closer to me, "Finish your shower so we can go to bed. I'll set up a meeting with your sponsor tomorrow, see what he thinks we can do going forward."

Keigo kissed me, his pupils mere slits and he truly reminded me of a bird of prey, "No therapists, please. I feel like a big enough loser."

"I know, love."

[miyuhpapayuh]

Twelve

Her new commute to work being cut down by ten minutes gives her plenty of time to sit on her new balcony and gear herself up for the day.

“Hey,” a voice calls, making her turn back towards the sliding door. A half-dressed Leon comes into view with a plate in his hand.

“Don't forget your breakfast.”

Sitting it on the table by her, he presses a kiss to her forehead. She smiles down at the french toast, bacon and eggs and then smiles up at him.

“Aw, you tried something new on me!”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her lips.

“Yeah, I had to! Couldn't have you thinking I only make waffles and pancakes for the woman that makes my toes curl.”

She giggles, crossing her legs under the table. He saw it, too, his low laughter falling in line with hers.

“Ah, what a man!”

“I know,” he nods enthusiastically, “you deserve waffles, French toast, cinnamon bagels with extra cream cheese, biscuits and gravy,..” he continued rattling things off in between wet kisses against her face.

“I'm holding you to the biscuits and gravy, cause that's one of my favorites.”

“Noted. Now try it and tell me how you like it.” He says, resting his hands on the chair as she cuts into the french toast, taking a bite.

“Delicious, like I definitely expected! Mm, so buttery!”

He smiles, actually patting himself on the back and making her laugh.

“So glad you like ‘em, sweet stuff. I gotta head out or ima be late, but I'll call you on my break, okay?”

“Okay. I gotta head out soon, myself.” She says, going back for another bite of her food, before standing up to hug Leon.

“We hangin’ out tonight?” He asks, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“I was thinkin’ we could all meet up at my job, after work. You round up your friends, I'll bring my sisters. Sounds cool?”

“Yeah, that sounds real cool,” he smiles, “look at you, gettin’ everybody together!”

She playfully rolls her eyes, “go to work, Leon Avery.”

“Aw, ‘kay, Zora-Jean. I'm out the door now.” He replies, placing plenty more kisses to her lips.

“Mmkay, I'll seriously see you later.” She laughs at their, still entwined, fingers.

“Okay, okay. I love you.” One more kiss.

“I love you, too.”

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Sitting at work, looking pretty with nobody to bother her was the absolute best!

It had been almost a month since Cory was fired, and Zora got Linda to agree with her, that him being gone really did her business some good.

They'd had a full house, every night, like she'd been dreaming about, which is why she ran it by Leon to finally bring his friends by.

They'd finally been able to open up their entire floor for customers and use that dusty old jukebox in the far corner.

“Hell, we might be able to get some people in here to sing and things! You know how restaurants do events?? We could do that!”

“We could!” Zora smiles at her beaming boss. “I hope you're ready to host it up, tonight! Told Leon and his friends all about you!”

“Oh, I've been waiting for this! Friends of yours are friends of mine, you know that, dear!” Linda says to Zora.

“The hungrier, the better?” She asks, as they both fall out in laughter.

“Absolutely! I cannot wait to meet ‘em.”

As another busy day came to a close, she got a text from Leon, he was going home to change and wondered if she wanted to ride back with him.

She replied in agreement, mentally preparing for the hour she'd given herself, to pull herself together as she rushed home.

Thanking god for closet space again, she sifts through her dresses— unable to bare another pair of pants sticking to her— and lands on an orange and white sundress, immediately pulling it out and hopping in the shower.

While brushing her teeth and drying her body, she mulls over which sandals to pair with the dress, already hearing Nique telling her to go with black! Everything goes with black!

She's not wrong, but Nique would never hear that… again.

Pulling the outfit on, she stands in front of the mirror and squints, tilting her head to one side.

“No.”

She pulls everything off and puts it back in its place, rummaging around for a totally different look in mind.

Stepping back in front of the mirror, she's rocking a white graphic t-shirt, tied in the back to show off the little bit of belly she wasn't self conscious about, a black skirt that hit mid-thigh and hugged her very well and red sandal-heels, showcasing her pretty brown legs in ways that are gonna make a certain somebody salivate.

“That's more like it.”

Dousing herself in a sandalwood and vanilla cloud, she fluffs her hair and grabs her phone, snapping a few pictures before heading back down the hallway.

Answering the door a beat after he knocks, she smirks at the way his jaw drops at her appearance.

“Don't go droolin’ on my new floor,” she quips, before grabbing the single white rose from his hand, putting it up to her nose.

“I ain't sorry. You look so damn good, baby.” He compliments, making her blush and pull him in for a kiss, which turns into a couple more.

“Thank you, it took me a minute to pull it together.”

“Yeah, me too. How I'm lookin’?” He asks, stepping back from her and spinning around for her. His all green ensemble was very on brand.

She fondly shakes her head. “You always look so good, boy. I'll be stealing this shirt next.”

“Ima start hiding my clothes from you,” he laughs.

“Oh, please! Don't act like I leave you bare.”

“Just about!” He jokes. “But, you ready to go, sweet stuff?”

“Yeah, I gotta head across the hall and see if Nique is ready.” She nods, as they head out of her apartment and across the way, where she knocks on Nique’s door.

Answering by poking her head out, she makes the couple snicker at her wide-eyed expression. Her hair was still in rollers.

"Hey friends!"

“Why are you not ready, yet?” Zora asks.

“Because you cannot rush perfection, Zora-Jean. You look scrumptious, by the way!”

“That's what I told her.” Leon smiles, earning a high-five from Nique.

“I'm almost done,” she turns her focus back to her friend. “Come inside and relax a little.”

Letting them in, Leon makes himself comfy on her couch while Zora follows Nique into her room to help her with an outfit.

“Okay, so are these grown, hard working men?”

“Yes, girl. First time I've seen a group of ‘em, up close.”

“Ooh, are they fine?? Be honest.”

“Yes, Nique. You think I'd be dragging all three of y'all down there if they weren't?”

“Listen, I just have to clarify. I know Leon is pretty, but his friends coulda been mud ducks and I've already had my share of them.”

“Trust me, you'll be pleased.”

“Okay, alright. Is this a plunging neck situation? Or is that too much?”

“Hm, considering it being a first meeting, yeah, let's save that for next time.”

“Okay, okay. How about this top?” She asks, pulling out a tan, long-sleeved crop top. “It accentuates my tatas.” She cheeses, making Zora laugh.

“Yeah, friend! This is actually cute, and now you can wear those khaki pants that I bought you!”

“Ooh, they make my ass look fantastic, too!”

“Hey Leon!”, the two hear from the living room, making Zora look at Nique, who shrugs.

“You don't know your own sisters’ voices or something?”

“I didn't ask you who it was, did I?” She quips with a raised brow.

“Nope, but you look clueless. They wanted to meet us here. I think Neoma bought—”

“D’ussé!” She shouts, making them laugh and hurry to get Nique fully ready, before they step out of her room and join Neoma, Lovita and Leon in the kitchen.

“Hey, baby sisters!” Lovita greets, handing Zora and Nique a shot glass. “Y'all look good!”

“Thanks, y'all do too! Lord, we pre-gamin’?”

“I feel like I'm back in college.” Leon snorts, making them laugh.

“I know! What are you tryna do to us, girl?”

“Oh, come on! It's just one shot! Start the night off right, right?”

“Right, yeah,” Zora nods, as do the others.

“Alright, then! To a good night!” She raises her shot and they follow suit, repeating her cheer and clinking their glasses to one another's.

“To a good night!”

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And a good night, it was.

After everyone got acquainted, Linda started them off with a round of cheesy potato bites, which Leon and Zora were super excited about.

“Don't be mad if these disappear while we're talking,” Darnell chuckles, plucking another one from the large plate.

“There's like sixty of them on the plate,” Neoma laughs, “if you inhale all of these, ima be concerned.”

“Right! You ate today, right?” Leon joins in on the taunting.

“Lay up off me, man. Yeah, I ate. And I'm gonna eat again.” He quips, making Nique and Neoma laugh, while Leon holds his hands up.

Lovita was too busy flirting with Clyde, and he was hanging on every word that left her glossed lips.

“Tell me your middle name ain't Alize,” he jokes, making her giggle a little too much for her liking.

“No, no. I love Lovita Alize Jenkins, though!”

“Who doesn't??” Zora says from across the table, catching her sister’s playful glare.

“She's right. Her and Cedric were my go-to. Too funny.”

“You remember they had those shirts with their faces on ‘em? I thought that was so cheesy and cute!”

“What? That's one of my favorite episodes!”

“Don't let them bother you. I love a man with an appetite.” Nique says to Darnell, grabbing another one of the bites for herself. He raises an eyebrow at her, to which she winks.

“Good to know,” he smirks, looking over at Craig, who's twirling one of Neoma’s twists around his finger.

“You are so pretty,” he says for the thousandth time, making her blush profusely.

“So are you,” she replies, feeling her insides burn as he flashes her a smile, those gold-capped canines peeking at her.

Everybody had matched off, making the head couple secretly high-five underneath the table and snicker to each other.

Several appetizers and heavily poured drinks later, the couples sit along the bar and listen to the live band that Linda found.

It consists of three super sweet guys. The lead singer can blow down anybody's favorite singer, the drummer can beat down the best of drums in the most incredible ways and the guitarist definitely lets his talent speak for itself.

“They sound really good, don't they?” Linda asks the group, getting a gaggle of yes’s back.

“I'm glad you could finally expand, cause it's jumpin’ in here!” Nique comments.

“Me too! Get out there and have a dance for me, all of ya.” She nudges her, slyly pushing her against Darnell.

“Ima get Zora on you!” Nique jokes, before looking to her left, finding him already honed in on her.

“You know this song?” She asks.

“Nah, but we can learn it.” He says, holding his hand out for her to grab as they find a spot on the floor.

“Oop, looks like Nique got ‘em!” Leon points to the two, quickly getting swatted by Zora.

“That ain't take long,” Lovita giggles, her and Zora’s jaws dropping as Neoma pulls Craig away from the bar.

“Don't wait up, chicken!” She teases her older sister.

“C'mon, don't let her show you up like that.” Clyde says, placing his hand over hers.

Zora was cheesing so hard, Leon had to pull her away before she bursted and ruined their moment.

“You wanna dance with me, huh?”

“Badly.” He leans closer to her, giving her another opportunity to inhale the godly scent that was coming off him.

 “Wow, you smell good.” She blurts, unable to help herself.

“I was just about to say that about you, beautiful.”

“Let's go dance, handsome.”

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“Tonight was so fun!”

“Yeah, it really was. We made off like real matchmakers.” Leon says, making them both laugh.

“We are real matchmakers! All we did was introduce them to each other and bam! Three new relationships, just like that!” She exclaims, plopping down on her bed and kicking off her sandals.

“Those hurt my feet,” she frowns, getting ready to contort her leg all types of crazy, til she's stopped by him pulling it up to his level, massaging it for her.

“Did you forget I was standing here or sumn?” He asks, chuckling after, at her harmless glare.

“No, you lank. I didn't think to ask.”

“You ain't gotta ask, baby. Put them purty feet on me, I'll get the hint.”

She giggles as he leans down and presses kisses to her feet. Her skirt began to ride up, as she quickly pulled it back down.

“All that ass in that skirt was a mystery to begin with!” He cracks, getting a harmless kick to the stomach.

“Shut up, it lasted the whole night!”

“You right.”

“I know. Gimme my feet back,” she laughs, tryna pull her legs from his grasp.

“Why? I was havin’ fun!”

“Sit down, at least. You're making me dizzy.” She says, patting the spot beside her.

He took a seat on her, now, deep navy blue sheets and pulled her legs into his lap, going back to rubbing her feet.

“Them drinks made you dizzy, don't do me.”

“Don't do— never mind,” she starts laughing, covering her face. He squints and laughs at her, even though he's not sure what's so funny. Her laugh was too damn infectious.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she drags out, still laughing at herself.

“Zora,” he laughs, pulling her hand away from her face, “you gotta share it cause it's got you in stitches.”

“It's not even funny, that's what's so funny!” She gets out between giggles.

“You're so damn goofy, Jean.” He fondly comments.

“Aw, Avery!” She squeals, reaching up to pinch his cheek, making him laugh and swat her hand away.

“Pinchin’ my cheeks like my mama, girl. What's got you so giggly?” He asks again, leaning down to her level.

“I was gonna make a joke about doing you, but I couldn't get it out.” She softly laughs, trying to suppress it.

But the expression on his face made it come back to full giggles. Her back found her mess of pillows as she covered her face once again.

With another shake of his head, he watches his liquored-up girlfriend giggle her life away.

She was precious.

“Oh man, that's an ab workout for ya,” she says after she's calmed down, leaning up on her elbows to meet his gaze.

“You done, now?” He asks.

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I'm done, now.”

“Good. You know what I wanna do?”

“What?”

“You.”

Ch. 13

@thegifstories @blackerthings @sheabuttahwrites @ghostfacekill-monger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @cecereads209 @abeautifulmindexposed @twistedcharismaaa @essaysbyciara @nayaxwrites

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 4: Long Cool Woman In a Black Dress

AN: I won my battle with writer's block! (Thank you, @tinytotontheoversizedpony!)

It's a little self-fulling to use this song as a fic title, but hey, it fits the vibe.

I think you're going to like this one 👀💛

______________________________________________________________

❗️18+, strong language, alcohol mentions, sexual themes, godmother reader/original female character, Original child character.

#4.7K Words

Part 3 | Masterlist | Part 5

Fridays seemed to be the worst day of the week. That was your current mood as you smoothed down the corners of your dress and straightened your leather jacket, making your way up the steps of the Child Protective Services building. 

They told you they wanted to meet to review some information, whatever the hell that meant. With the paperwork, or there was a stipulation in Ridley’s Will or worse, someone wanted to take her away from you. The nerves in the pit of your stomach were on fire with the idea something was wrong.  

And you received the request on one of the few days you could actually pick Sadie up from school. The minute you hung up your phone and pressed the edge of it to your forehead, you thumped lightly against your skin, thinking it would will away the uneasiness settling in your stomach. 

“Ah, pity, I was hoping Bradley was picking Sadie up today.” 

‘Oh, please tell me you didn’t, Bradley, ’ you thought upon hearing that voice. Forcing a smile, which you were sure looked more like a grimace, you turned to face what you believed to be the Regina George of all elementary school moms. 

“Hello, Courtney.” 

Courtney Slack, the one mom in the school who made it her business to know everyone’s business. A blonde bombshell always dressed to the nines, who always had a comment, a thing or a statement to say about everyone and everything thing. The leader of the PTA association and the mom of the girl who bullied Sadie on her first day of school. 

You’d be having words with Bradley the next time you saw him. 

“Still single, I see?” she snarked. “Shame Sadie doesn’t have a strong father figure to look up to.” 

Oh, you’d already be thrashing her into the pavement if you were a violent person. You were about to make a remark about Sadie’s numerous Uncles who literally risked their lives to make sure someone like her could live out her days being a bitch, before someone came up beside you. 

“Still sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Courtney?” Alyssa suddenly pipped up next to you. Alyssa, a single mother of a boy named Will around Sadie’s age, was one of the first people to introduce herself when Sadie first arrived at the school. Sadie instantly took a liking to Will, and you liked Alyssa the second you met her. 

She was uncaring of what people thought of her, pulling up in punky Doc Martins and patched-up jean jackets to student-teacher conferences and school events. She saved you from what you both liked to call Courtney’s group, the “Vanderpump Vulture Moms,” on your first school bake sale, Bob and Nat helping you stay up late one night to frost the hell out of a few dozen cupcakes. 

“Can’t I take an interest in who my children go to school with?” 

“Well, it looks like you need to go collect your spawn,” She coughed, “I mean, child from the playground. I believe he’s interested in shoving a stone up a kid’s nose.” 

Failing miserably to hold in your snickers at the look on Courtney’s face, you watched as she turned frantically to find her son before calling his name and running off in hysterics. Alyssa gave in first, barely hanging on to her resolve and toppling over in laughter. You couldn’t help but join her, lulling your nerves for a moment with being able to laugh. 

After a few seconds, she touched your shoulder, “I heard your phone call. I’m sure it’s nothing, maybe a follow-up to ensure everything is okay.” 

You shook your head, looking at the kids exiting the recess doors. 

“I just got her. It could be anything from a check-in to a notice of whatever they want to do with her. Rarely do they care about the kids.” 

You spied Sadie’s lime green backpack amongst the crowd. Will was not far behind as they searched for the pair of you. They liked to race each other out the door to see who could get to you first. When she did reach you, she almost always knocked you flat onto the pavement, hugging you. You eagerly returned her hug but frowned when she kept burying her head into your stomach when you went to pull back.

“What’s wrong, Bug?” 

“We have a surprise project due on Monday,” Will sighed next to you. Sadie pulled back, nodding at him, clearly upset at the thought she might have to do homework over a weekend. 

“We’re going to miss our last hike, Aunt Liz,” She pouted. 

This weekend was your last chance for a hike until the Spring. While Miramar didn’t really see snow, the weather had started turning slightly cooler. Soon enough, the bugs wouldn’t be out for Sadie to find. With the unexpected visit to CPS, she would no doubt have to miss it. 

“And my hockey game,” Will echoed, dropping his head with a frown.  

Alyssa ruffled Will’s hair, smiling down at Sadie. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow after school? You can set up at the dining table and do your project with pizza.” 

You gave Alyssa a grateful look, mouthing ‘Thank you’ as Sadie and Will excitedly started planning how they would tackle their assignment so they could do their respective activities. 

Alyssa shrugged, waving her hand. “Go figure out what they want, and don’t worry about her. We’ll ensure that assignment gets done for your hike and Will’s Hockey Game.”

So, while Sadie worked over at Will and Alyssa’s to finish her project, you tried to calm your nerves as you waited at the reception desk to check in for the appointment. 

They made you wait for what you thought was hours, but it couldn’t have been more than 15 minutes. You did everything from bouncing your leg to circling your thumbs to scrolling aimlessly on your phone until they finally called your name.

You were ushered into a stuffy office room, papers hazardously placed in manila file folders strung across the room. An older woman, Mrs. Kirkland, from her nameplate, had several precariously stacked on top of one another on her desk. She reminded you of your old high school librarian, peering at you over the top rim of her glasses when you coughed under your breath to get her attention. 

“Ms. Beck,” she gestured to the fold-out chair in front of her. You quickly removed your jacket, hooking it on the back of the chair before sitting down.  

She smiled at you before glancing at her laptop, asking, “How’s Sadie doing?” 

“Better. She’s adjusting well to her new school and seems to love science.” 

“That’s wonderful,” She didn’t bother looking up as she spoke, typing something away at her computer. You watched her type, suddenly meeting her eyes as she peered up at you, looking up and down your body before inquiring, “And yourself?” 

“It’s been hard without my sister, but my friends have supported me.” 

“Hmm,” she replied. “No man in your life?” 

Ugh, why did every older woman you meet like to comment on the fact that you were still single? 

“Just the two of us, I’m afraid,” you smiled politely. “What is it you wanted to speak about?” 

“Right,” she said, reaching down into her file cabinet to pull out a small folder. “A request was made to look into Sadie’s file.” 

The ball forming in your throat for the past twenty-four hours dropped into your stomach. “What does that mean?” 

“Well, our review process covers everything from the legitimacy of her birth mother’s Will to the handover of her guardianship. We have no complaints against you as her guardian, and we have on record you cared for Sadie greatly while you lived with your sister.” 

You swallowed hard. “Yes, that’s correct.” 

“So, this is just to ensure everything is in order and nothing was missed. Generally, the process takes a few weeks, but upon looking at this, I suspect our auditors won’t find anything out of place.” 

“Why would someone request this? Is it something internal you guys do?” 

Ms. Kirkland shuffled a few papers in her hand, reading what was on the page before replying, “I’m afraid this was external. Your sister was very thorough with her paperwork, so we did not need to do an internal review.” 

Everything about this was odd. You had no family left. What was the point of making sure her paperwork was in order? Ridley always wanted Sadie with you and nobody at the time, and after her death, wanted to challenge it. 

“I’m assuming you cannot tell me who requested you look into her file?”

“I’m afraid I cannot say who, only that the request came in two weeks ago.” 

Ridley’s townhouse sold two weeks ago, you thought. This was screaming more was going on than just a simple review. 

“As we have no more concerns, you are free to go. We just needed to inform you of the request.” 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you dug your nails into your legs instead, reaching to grab your bag off the floor. “And you couldn’t have explained this over a phone call?” 

“I’m afraid it’s our policy to do these things in person to avoid miscommunication.” 

You sighed, standing up and grabbing your jacket from the back of your chair. “Can you let me know when this is resolved?” 

“Of course.” 

You resisted the urge to slam the door as you exited the office and the building. While you knew deep down they wouldn’t find anything wrong with the paperwork or Ridley’s Will, you were still worried about who exactly put in the request.

Even with the anxiety racing through your veins as you raced back down the front steps to your car, eager to escape the miserable place, you couldn’t help but grumble out, “Policy, my ass.”

_______

Seeing you at the Hard Deck outside of work, unless you were with one of the Daggers, was unusual. But your nerves were on fire, you were dying for a drink, and you desperately wanted to confide in Penny. 

It wasn’t as busy as it should have been for a Friday after four, but the music playing from the Jukebox did wonders for the atmosphere.  You spied Jake and Coyote at the back by the dartboard in their service khakis as soon as you walked in, Coyote attempting to throw a few darts while Jake was off to the side chatting with a brunette in just too tight of a light blue dress.

You couldn’t fault her for the blush staining her cheeks as she peered up at him. Jake used his looks to his advantage to get what he wanted. Arms flexed, cocky smirk, getting up and close into her personal space. She was buying it, given how close she angled herself toward him. 

Women really did fall into the palm of his hand, you thought.  

She embodied everything you figured you weren’t. The type to have it all figured out, not juggling school events, sports games, and pick-up times. She didn’t have long nights closing at the bar or trying to find someone to watch Sadie every week. Not that you would trade it for anything in the world. 

She was the type you’d imagine someone like Jake would finally end up with. Even if he was chatting her up to be the next name on his bedpost, you struggled to force out the idea that they looked good standing next to each other. Hot people went out with hot people, right?

You didn’t know whether you wanted to roll your eyes or pay attention to the ache in your chest. 

Penny smiled as you sat down but frowned upon seeing your face. 

“Can I get a glass of Whiskey, Penny? Neat, please.” 

She eyed you concerned, reaching down to grab a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass. “You're not one to pop by for a drink?” 

“Somebody requested Sadie’s file to be looked into at CPS.” You threaded your fingers through your hair, locking them behind your head as you rest your elbows on the bar. 

Penny widened her eyes, placing the glass down in front of you. “Please tell me she’s staying with you?” 

You looked up and nodded. “I’m fine. They needed to notify me it happened.” 

“Can they tell you who?” 

“Nope,” you replied curtly before reaching for the glass and bringing it to your lips. The liquid burned, and you resisted the urge to cough. 

“I bet it's the school. Or one of the parents at the school.” 

Courtney’s face briefly popped into your head at Penny’s words, but you quickly shot it down. While she might be horrible, she wasn’t capable or invested in causing trouble. You shrugged. 

“Or Sadie’s bio Dad?” 

You frowned. Ridley always admitted getting involved with Tyler was a terrible idea, save for gifting her Sadie. He was, for all pretense, a dick. You had yet to meet someone who was his equal. From the stories you heard about how he was before they became a permanent team, not even Jake could top this guy’s attitude on a bad day. Tyler was pure malice. 

He wanted nothing to do with Sadie the moment Ridley found out. She had ensured you were listed as Sadie’s guardian the moment she was born, Tyler and his family written out of any responsibility or entitlements. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn if they tried to buy her off to save Tyler’s chances of making a career in Football, not that he really had any. 

“He wanted nothing to do with her when Ridley was pregnant, and I doubt Cathy and Dean want to be caring grandparents this late in the game.” 

They were some of the worst people in the world. You could gratefully count the number of times you had to deal with them on one hand. Sadie would never have to, not if you had your way. 

“Either way, I don’t think he’d get anywhere near Sadie if he wanted to.” 

Penny smiled fondly. “Bradley would be first in line to throw a punch.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t forget about Nat.” 

“I think Pete might try to get one in too.” 

You giggled with Penny at the thought. Mav would go to bat for Sadie in a heartbeat. 

“Lizzie!” 

You turned around on your bar stool to see Coyote waving you over, the leggy brunette gone, and Jake taking Javy’s place throwing darts. 

“Be careful with those two,” Penny said with a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

Resisting the urge to frown, you simply picked up your drink while standing up, throwing over your shoulder, “You know I can take care of myself.”

________

“Yo, there’s Lizzie,” Coyote said, tapping Jake’s arm while watching you enter the Hard Deck and walk towards an empty stool. Jake turned his head in the middle of his conversation at the mention of your name, catching the side of your face as you greeted Penny.

The two of you had finished the dishes discussing your shared taste in music that night. You credited Ridley as the one who got you into 80s music - telling him the Jean Jacket had been hers, sharing how the three of you got lost coming home from a hike while she was visiting with Sadie, stumbling into that thrift store hoping for directions. He could recall you laughing when you told him she freaked out so hard in the store the owner practically gave it to her for free. 

While he’d never get the chance to, he wished he could thank Ridley for finding that Jacket. You didn’t judge him for his call-sign story as he suspected you would. Instead, you listened. You emphasized. You gave him credit for trying. And as everyone went to leave, you didn’t protest hugging him goodbye like everyone else. 

Deep down, a part of him was grateful you gave him a clean state. 

When the woman he had been talking to realized his attention had been drawn elsewhere, she scoffed and quickly returned to her friends after he didn't continue the conversation. He didn’t seem to care, wandering over to where Javy had resumed his stance.  

“What’s she doing here on her day off?” Coyote placed the darts into Jake’s hand, not removing his eyes from you. 

“She doesn’t normally come here on a day off?” Jake asked, starting to line up a shot. 

“Not unless she’s with one of us. Maybe she has a date.” 

Coyote took a swig of his beer, missing the way Jake dropped his hand and spun his head, eyes tracking the bar to see if anyone was joining you. But you were bowing your head, on the verge of pulling out your hair, staring at the top of the bar before replying to whatever Penny asked.

“What did you guys talk about that night?” 

Jake turned back to Coyote, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head while he raised his hand again. “Nothing I haven’t told you before.” 

Jake let the dart go, watching as it landed just above the center mark. “She thanked me for the flowers, for helping Sadie, and then we did the dishes.” 

“Just like that?” Javy questioned. “So you didn’t pull any of your insensitive shit around her?” 

“I wasn’t going to make her call me out twice. Not since you left me to deal with Phoneix and Rooster chewing out my ass.” He threw another dart, this one striking just above the last one. 

Coyote ignored the dig, watching him throw two more before asking, “So the flowers were..” 

“An apology, nothing more.” 

Javy eyed Jake skeptically, “And why do you suddenly care about saying sorry to someone you hardly know?” 

“Hey, I happen to like Sadie and Liz. And if the Daggers are spending Saturday nights over there, I’d like to improve my chances of being invited back.” 

Javy went to collect the darts from the board before turning around to stand in front of Jake, proceeding to square him up. 

“Be careful with her, Jake,” he said, placing the darts into his hand. “I’m not like the others, but you cannot fuck with Lizzie. She might put on a big show, but she’s more fragile than she looks. And Sadie’s a part of the equation too.” 

Jake regarded him briefly, thinking about the note Sadie gave him that he tucked into his wallet, before finally answering, “She told me she wasn’t interested in that.”

“Interested in a tumble in the sheets or being your friend?” 

“Shut up. I just want to be there for her and Sadie.” 

“Oh, so you wouldn’t mind if I called her over here to join us then?” 

“Javy!” Jake reached for Coyote’s arm, failing to stop him from lifting his hand. 

“Lizzie!” 

Jake grimaced as Coyote waved at you, quickly reaching up to throw another dart, this time half in frustration. It landed next to the metal circle encasing the center dot. 

You called out to greet them, and Jake couldn’t help but take note of how your dress lightly swayed as you maneuvered yourself between pulled-out chairs to get to them, leather jacket zipper straps swinging as you walked, and a pair of brown aviators dangling from where you had hooked them between your breasts.

He caught a glimpse of Penny’s glaring stare from behind you, and his conversation with her the week before meeting you played in his head. 

“She’s off limits, Hangman.” She had said as she thumped his beer bottle onto the bar. “You don’t go anywhere near this one, and I don’t care how many people you’ve helped throw out of this bar. I’ll never welcome you back, so help me. Not her.” 

The second it appeared you would look back up, he turned to throw another dart, this time Coyote holding up his hand to block his view. You watched Jake land the dart directly in the middle, slightly impressed. 

“So, this is your party trick?” you announced with a grin.

Coyote wolf-whistled as he approached you, holding out his hand to spin you in a circle, your dress swirling as you laughed. “You clean up nice, Lizzie. You meeting some special?”

Jake’s hand wobbled as he threw another dart, this time hitting the outer rim. 

“What? Oh no, I had a meeting with CPS.” 

Jake’s ears picked up at the statement, dropping his hand heavily to face you. “Is she okay? Are they threatening to take her away from you?” 

You shook your head, warmth spreading in your chest at his concern.  “It was harmless. They just wanted to pass along some information.” 

Jake turned to Coyote as you suddenly stepped towards the dartboard, seemingly interested in his score and leaving no room to continue the conversation.  Coyote looked at you with concern before glancing back at Jake, shaking his head. 

“You know how to throw?” Jake asked, not taking his eyes off Javy and tilting his head toward Penny. Javy nodded, quickly approaching the bar to see if Penny knew anything. 

“Oh, believe me, sharp objects and I do not mix,” you remarked, looking at his score before passing him as he went to collect the darts. You lent against the nearby pillar, pressing your glass to your chest. 

“You can’t be that bad,” he glanced over his shoulder, pulling the last dart from the board. 

“You’ve clearly never seen me on a good day. I’m a natural klutz,” you said, sipping your drink. Jake moved away from the board only to stop in front of you, holding out the darts in his hand.

 “Prove it.” 

You looked down, apprehensive of grabbing them. You accidentally drew blood the last time you threw a dart in Penny’s bar. You still felt horrible thinking about it, managing to skim an Admiral’s forehead. To this day, you swore you’d never touch the things again. 

But then you took in Jake’s face, amused and assured, as if you were just being modest about being a bad shot. He clearly wasn’t going to let it go, shoving his hand out again to emphasize he was dead serious.

“I warned you,” you offered, placing your glass next to his bottle on a side table, shedding your jacket and glasses before grabbing a dart from his hand. 

You attempted to line yourself up with the center of the dartboard. At first, you stood sideways, cocking your arm back several times in an attempt to let the dart go. The angle felt too awkward, and your hand started to cramp from how long you took. Then you completely turned to face it, fiddling with your grip while trying to fix your eyes between either the dart or the board. 

You managed to fake out three throws before deciding to give up.

Sighing, you dropped your hand, “Jake, I’m going to hurt someone if I throw this damn thing.” 

Jake tried to hold in his laughter, watching you struggle while leaning against the same pillar. He pushed himself off, uncrossing his arms before gently reaching for your wrist.

You looked at him, unsure, taking a step back,  “What are you doing?” 

Jake shook his head, reaching out again for your wrist. “Just trust me.”

You let Jake bring your hand up. His whole hand, warm and rough, engulfed yours as he positioned it where he wanted. You sucked in a breath through your teeth when you felt his fingers, barely grasping at your hip bone, pull you closer to him.

“Loosen your hand,” he squeezed, forcing you to attempt to calm the tension in your wrist. It was hard when you could only concentrate on the feeling of his chest lightly bumping your back. With each touch, you could feel yourself resisting the urge to lurch forward with a shiver racing up your spine. 

“Relax your shoulders.” He spoke, before tapping the heel of your boot with the top of his, making you take a step forward a bit. You gulped when you heard him say, “Widen your legs.” 

You breathed in through your mouth, forcing the exhale to drag your shoulders down. It was a few seconds before he murmured, “Close your eyes.” 

“Jake,” you warned. 

“There’s nobody around. I won’t let you hurt someone.” 

You sighed, closing your eyes and dropping your head slightly. Jake moved your hand again, softly squeezing once more. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you felt the heat of his breath travelling towards the left side of your jaw. 

“Throw it,’ he rasped into your ear. 

Jake loosened his hold on your wrist, feeling his calloused fingers trailing down your arm before lifting them off. The second his hand left your skin, you flicked your wrist forward as if his touch burned you. You refused to open your eyes, scared you might have hit someone or something old and well past its years on the wall. 

“Look.” 

You sharply breathed through your nose before opening your eyes to glance at the board. 

The dart had managed to hit the center. You couldn’t help but smile. 

“How’s that?” he squeezed your hip. “Not as bad as you thought.” 

“No blood is a first,” you said, proud of yourself. 

Turning around to thank him, the words died on your lips as you felt his breath warm your face. Jake had yet to let you go, his hand still clutching your waist and his nose a few inches from grazing yours. 

The decision you made, standing in your front yard last Saturday while face to face with Jake, about never putting yourself in a position where he could break your heart, was far from your mind. You took in everything about him. His sandy hair, his jawline, his eyes which then met yours. 

Jake’s stare brought you back to standing with him in your kitchen, washing dishes, and seeing his soft smile for the first time. Facing off in your backyard to guess music, him twirling one of Sadie’s pencils in his hand while helping her with homework, handing her the yellow tulip in your hallway. 

Jake could no longer hear the chants of Penny and the rest of the Daggers saying to leave you alone in his head. They were being replaced with the pump of his heart, a feeling he only experienced while pulling Gs. And then your eyes, wide and bright, drew him in. 

They were kind and soft. The type to have experienced laughter and the type of smiles that would make someone’s face hurt. You were looking at him like he was more than the metal wings pinned to his shirt. More than the good-looking pilot from Texas. More than just Hangman. 

His eyes dropped to your lips, feeling your warm breath on his and noticing the subtle scent of the Whiskey you had slipped prior. Could he still taste it, he thought, if he just tilted his head a little further down? 

And then the barbell rang. 

Three times. 

Jake immediately stepped back, head turning towards the bar with the healthy fear Penny had rung the bell for getting too close to you. But she and Coyote were standing off with some unlucky guy whose face had turned beat red at the bar. He had no cell phone, so either he disrespected the Navy or a lady and was not pleased about buying a round. 

He squeezed your waist, winking at you with a grin, before letting go to join Coyote at the bar. You bit your lip, watching him pat the man on his shoulder before hooking his arm under his, easily carrying him off to the side door with Javy. 

“You okay, Liz?” Penny called out, your eyes snapping to her as she raised an eyebrow.

Despite not knowing what the frick just happened, you called back, “Yeah, I think so,” while gripping the corner of the pillar with one hand. 

If she asked you why your legs were wobbling, you'd blame the whiskey.

Tags:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233 @emorychase @ereardon

@dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby @phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447

@fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower

Please let me know if I missed you or if you want to be added!

Might be a little bit before Part 5, as I suddenly got swarmed with work stuff before my work conference at the end of March, but I will try my best!

Wickett ;)

[thewritersofdeceased]

THIS IS HALLOWEEN

THE GHOST BOYS X READER <33

ALL PLATONIC

GENDER NEUTRAL PRONOUNS // THEY THEM!!

"THIS IS HALLOWEEN, THIS IS HALLOWEEN!" A voice cheered, letting out laughs as he ran alongside another boy. Whilst walking, Y/N would raise a brow at the sight of the local paperboy running alongside another. The invisible boy that nobody seemed to talk to in school. They were walking alone, clutching their bag of candy in hands. They knew who the group was, but talking to them was out of the question. Their eyes scanned the group, taking note of all the boys. People would call them mean or not, Y/N couldn't exactly remember the rumors that people would spread. Though they didn't care at all. It wasn't their business.

Continuing to walk, they tensed up slightly at the sound of footsteps behind them. They hadn't know who's footsteps they were, but they tried their best to ignore them. "Just keep walking. Just.... Keep walking." They whispered to theirselves, putting pressure on their legs as they walked. Before they heard a voice and felt someone tap their shoulder. Spinning quickly on their heel, they glanced at the boy that had tapped their shoulder. Finney Blake. One of the baseball kids of Denver. "Hey! Y/N, right? Your costume looks sick!" He complimented with a smile. He was nice. One of the more... nicer ones. At least when they asked about him in the schools. Standing with a rather confused look now, Y/N gave a slight smile in return to the other boys warm and genuine one. "Thanks... your costume's pretty cool too." Finney's costume almost looked like it was some kind of star royalty.

A crown of black and blue, a cape that had the constellations and stars all over it, dragging lightly behind him. He was wearing a fancy outfit too. Dark blue, purple, black and gold. It looked nice, Y/N could admit. Finney's smile had grown larger at the compliment, his eyes closing for a moment. "Thanks! I got help from Bruce.." He explained, motioning over to the baseball star, who was talking to a girl about two years younger. The baseball star was dressed as a zombie. He had made it so his left eye was no longer its usual shade of brown, but purely white with red splotches along his face. Indicating blood.

Bruce wore almost a replica of his usual outfit. A short sleeved white t-shirt with green sleeves, green collar, jeans and sneakers. Though it looked ripped. His shirt almost looked like a crop top, but it wasn't fully. His jeans were ripped too. One a full leg, the other like pair of shorts. His shoes and socks were normal. His stomach looked bloodied, like it's been cut open of some sort and he let himself bleed out. He had a bite mark on one arm, seeing as he must've been transformed into a zombie.

Y/N’s eyes soon landed on the local paperboy and the younger boy from before. The paperboy, whom they now realized to be Billy Showalter, was dressed as a makeshift wolf. Having what looked to be a headband with gray wolf ears on it, a belt that looked like a tail. He looked pretty decent. He had a red flannel on, black ripped jeans and a pair of sneakers. His flannel had only one full sleeve, but Y/N wouldn’t judge. Most werewolf movies always had ripped clothing. A soft hum escaped them before they spoke aloud. “All your outfits look good. I’m just a basic ol’ (c/c).” They explained, but Finney raised a brow. “Are you kidding me? Your outfit looks awesome!” He spoke happily, hearing a pair of footsteps walk towards him. Robin, his closest friend, but sometimes they acted more than that.

“Finn, you ready? Vance is close to stealing someone’s candy if you don’t hurry up.” The boy with the mask commented, lifting it up and letting it rest on his head, where his bandana would usually be. He wore a hockey mask, carrying a hockey stick with his bag of candy on the end of it.  "Oh. Hey Y/N!" He then greeted, giving a smile to the (h/c)'d individual. Robin was a relaxed kid, having no issues with anybody but a boy by the name of Moose. That kid was a douchebag, everyone knew that. Finally, Y/N's eyes landed on Vance Hopper. A kid who always got into more fights than Robin. They've heard the rumors around the school, but stuck to their own. Not like they cared about the rumors, it wasn't their issue to begin with.

Vance was covered in stitches. At least that's what it looked like. He had stitches all over his body. His arms, face, legs, hands. He basically looked like an experiment covered in stitches. It looked pretty cool. He had fake blood trailing down his face and head. He was complaining to Bruce and Amy, his eyes narrowed as he spoke, using his hands as he spoke. Y/N couldn't hear him, but knowing what Robin, Vance was getting impatient with how Finney was taking his time.  "Yeah, I'm ready! Oh! Y/N, do you wanna join us?" Finn answered before facing Y/N and smiling widely again. 

"You want me to join? I mean- if you don't mind. That'd be nice." Y/N spoke calmly, rubbing the back of their neck with the hand not carrying their bag of candy.  "We don't mind at all! Come on! Join the Halloween fun!"

[jaxteller87]

halloween riot

The bar was buzzing. Bodies pressed together, a sea of leather cuts, laughter, and the low hum of tension that came with a gathering of outlaws. It was Halloween at the clubhouse, and I couldn’t help but glance at Jax every few minutes, smirking to myself. Dressed as Beetlejuice, his slicked-back hair dyed a neon green, the black and white striped suit clinging to his frame, he looked too good for words.

I adjusted the veil of my Lydia costume, the lace brushing my cheek as I sipped my drink. “You know,” I teased, nudging Jax with my elbow, “next year, we should make it a private party. You in that genie costume…” I trailed off, letting the suggestion hang in.

He chuckled, that deep, lazy laugh of his. “You want a Halloween for two, huh? Genie and sexy Lydia?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though the thought of him in that ridiculous genie costume of his still made me blush.

As we walked toward the Mrs. VP table, I spotted Donna and Opie. Donna had gone all out as the Bride of Frankenstein— her dark hair piled high with white streaks shooting through it, a long, tattered gown that gave her an otherworldly beauty. Opie was her monster, his broad shoulders covered in fake stitches, green face paint adding a sickly hue to his usual intensity. He towered over her like some grotesque protector.

“Nice to see someone went as a classic pair,” I said, taking a seat next to Donna.

Opie raised his beer in a silent toast before taking a swig. “Figured we’d stick to tradition. Couldn’t let you and Jax steal all the attention.”

I laughed and was about to respond when a low, collective groan rose from the table.

“Oh no…” we all said in unison, our eyes locking on the unfortunate couple who had just walked in. They were dressed as Raggedy Ann and Andy—pale faces, red yarn hair, button eyes.

“Where’s Tig?” I whispered, feeling the dread settle in.

“Hopefully somewhere with Venus, far away from this nightmare,” Opie muttered, his lips barely moving as he took another sip of his beer.

Ratboy plopped down beside Donna, dressed as a…well…a rat. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“There’s a couple dressed up like dolls,” I replied.

Ratboy blinked. “So?”

Donna shot him a look, and Opie gave a slow shake of his head. I couldn’t believe we were explaining this again. “Tig, man. Those people are dressed as dolls.”

He snatched a beer off a passing waitress’s tray. “Dolls? So what? They’re just—”

“Tell me you’re new here without telling me you’re new here,” I rolled my eyes.

Opie smirked as he caught my expression. “Tig’s got something called pediophobia,” I said quietly, “It’s a fear of dolls. His case is bad, man. Like, real bad. He told me once—after a few too many beers—that just the sight of them sends him into a full-blown panic.”

Opie raised an eyebrow. “There’s a name for it?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I looked it up after he told me. Trust me, we need to keep him as far away from those two as possible. For their safety, at least.”

Jax had caught on by now, his eyes flicking between us and the couple in red-and-white costumes. 

Is this gonna be a problem? I wondered.

“I’ll go see if I can find him, maybe point him in another direction or something.” Jax kissed my forehead and strolled off into the masses.

The room was loud, the clinking of glasses and the steady beat of music drowning out most conversations, but there was a subtle shift in energy. Everyone was still having a good time, but the club was always mindful of its own—especially Tiggy. The last thing anyone needed was a full-blown meltdown in the middle of a Halloween gathering.

I looked around, finally realizing how packed the place was. “Where did all these people come from?” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. The place was swarming with faces I didn’t recognize—friends of friends, locals, people we had somehow absorbed into the chaos over the years. The only way I could spot Jax now was his bright green hair poking out above the crowd.

I had just taken a breath, trying to settle into the music and chatter, when Tig strutted into the room, and I swear the entire place paused. Dressed head to toe in a skimpy black Playboy bunny costume, complete with fishnets and a fluffy tail, he didn’t just own the look—he became it. The guy had no shame, and it was one of the many things we all loved about him. The club erupted in a mix of laughter and why wouldn’t it? Tiggy was most certainly a sight for sore eyes…a maybe a sight that made eyes sore? One of the two.

“Jesus Christ,” Opie muttered, shaking his head.

Tig swaggered over to the bar, completely at ease in his getup. He turned, flaunting his fluffy tail with a flick of his hips. “Well? What do you think, boys?” he shouted over the music, striking a pose. “Anyone looking for a date to take home?”

Chibs, who’d been leaning against the bar, barely holding in a laugh, raised his glass. “Ya look like ya belong in a Hugh Hefner calendar, Tiggy.”

Without missing a beat, Tig winked. “Damn right. They’re doin’ a whole spread on me…all I gotta do is spread for them if you catch my drift.”

“Unfortunately, we do,” Donna gagged.

The banter kept coming, but Tig just took it all in stride, enjoying the attention. That was until someone—some poor soul—accidentally bumped into him while dancing. I could see it happen in slow motion, the awkward shuffle of a man in red yarn hair.

Raggedy Andy.

I held my breath. I knew where this was headed before it even began.

Tig turned slowly. The man who now stood a bit too close for comfort was inches from the Playboy Bunny Bombshell— There was a beat of silence. Andy, oblivious, raised his hands in apology. “Hey, man, sorry about that. Didn’t see you there.”

Tig blinked once, then twice. His lips curved into a smile, but not the kind that said everything was okay. “Didn’t see me there? You didn’t see me there?” he repeated, voice low and dangerous.

“Yeah, yeah. My bad,” Andy said, trying to play it cool. He was already backing away, probably sensing he’d made a mistake.

“Lemme ask you something,” Tig said, his voice getting tighter. “What’s it like, you know… living life like a goddamn doll?” 

Andy froze, a confused smile flickering on his face. “What?”

I shot Jax a look, but before either of us could move, Tig’s fist came out of nowhere. The punch landed square in the guy’s jaw with a sickening thud. Andy stumbled backward, crashing into the nearby table, knocking over drinks, and sending glass shattering to the floor.

The whole room noticed…obviously.

It only took a second for Raggedy Anne, wide-eyed and horrified, to rush over and try to put herself between Tig and her dazed date. “Hey! Back off!” she cried, throwing her hands up, trying to shield Andy.

But Tig was far beyond reason. The sight of her—the doll-like dress, the makeup—had triggered him. Without warning, he lunged forward and headbutted her hard.

Anne fell back, holding her face in shock, a tiny stream of blood dripping from her nose. 

“You’re crazy!” Andy shrieked, crawling to his date.

A small scuffle broke out—not really surprised about that. Club members looking for a fight jumped to their feet, ready to intervene or escalate. The table nearest to us was knocked over, and before I knew it, chairs were skidding across the floor. 

Jax and Opie were already in motion, closing the distance before it could spiral further out of control. Opie grabbed Tig by the shoulders, physically pulling him back as Jax stood between him and the dazed couple. “Enough!” Jax barked.

Tig struggled against Opie’s grip, his breathing heavy, but he didn’t resist for long. “She’s a goddamn doll, Jax,” he growled as if that explained everything.

Jax shot him a warning look. “Not tonight, brother.”

Anne and Andy, looking more embarrassed than injured, stumbled toward the exit, disappearing outside without so much as a backward glance. It was over in minutes, but the tension lingered like a hangover. The room slowly returned to normal, conversations picking up again as people tried to shake off what had just happened.

“Where the hell did all these people come from?” I muttered again, still baffled by the sheer number of bodies packed into the clubhouse. It was a party, sure, but I didn’t recognize half the faces here.

Jax leaned over, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Don’t worry, babe. I got it under control.”

He always said that. And I always believed him. Until the next thing happened. And, like clockwork, the next thing always happened.

The sound cut through the night like a siren—the unmistakable screech of tires, the roar of motorcycles. Everyone stopped. It wasn’t the Sons’ bikes. These were lighter faster. Crotch rockets— also known as bikes that weren’t welcome here.

My stomach twisted as the noise grew louder and closer. “This isn’t good,” I said, my voice low.

Jax and Opie exchanged a look, then nodded toward Chibs, Happy, and Ratboy, who were already making their way toward the door. Chibs, calm and calculating as always, had his hand already resting on his gun. Happy, cracked his knuckles, always ready for a fight. And Ratboy, well—his loyalty was never in question, but he still had that edge of nervousness, that uncertainty that only time in the club would shake.

Jax paused just long enough to meet my eyes. “Stay here.”

I nodded, but we both knew that was just a formality.

The heavy wooden doors swung open, and they stepped out into the cold air as the sound of the engines ripped through the lot.

“A rival club?” Ratboy muttered.

Opie shook his head. “This ain’t no rival because they ain’t no real club. It’s a pop-up group.”

Chibs nodded. “Aye…Wannabes.”

A pop-up club was the worst kind of poser—a group of guys who slapped on some store-bought vests, embroidered their own patches, and pretended to be something they weren’t. It was the fastest way to catch an ass-beating from any real MC, especially outlaw clubs like the Sons. They didn’t have the rights, the respect, or the permissions that come with the territory of being a club. Just cheap imitations playing dress-up in a world they didn’t belong in. It was like throwing gasoline on a fire and then standing too close to it.

“Dumb question,” Donna asked, looking around the lot, “but is this a bad thing, right?”

Opie glanced at her, then back at the group of bikers revving their engines across from us. “For them.”

The pop-up club—maybe a dozen or so guys—had lined up their bikes like they were trying to make a statement, but their patches were all wrong. None of them matched. It was like they’d bought them from a Halloween store, each guy rocking something different like they hadn’t figured out what they stood for yet.

One of their guys, the tallest, maybe their President, stepped forward. He had this cocky look on his face like he thought showing up here was the smart move. “We got a call,” he said, loud enough for everyone in the lot to hear. “Heard one of your boys likes to pick on girls. That true?”

Tig stiffened next to Opie. The Raggedy couple must’ve called these idiots in for backup, and now this was about to blow up. Before Jax could say a word, Tig took a step forward. “She’s dressed up like a goddamn doll,” he spat.

“Seems to me like you got a problem with people in costumes,” their President barked.

Oh, hell. I could see it coming a mile away.

Before I could react, one of the pop-up guys—probably drunk or just too stupid to know better—made the mistake of getting too close to Juice, who was standing a few feet from me, cracking his knuckles. He was mid-swing before anyone could stop him. A solid right hook straight to the guy’s jaw, and just like that, the powder keg exploded.

Bikes screeched as Sons and wannabes clashed in the middle of the lot. Opie and Jax were already in the fray, fists flying, as bodies slammed into bikes and concrete—punches, grunts, the crunch of knuckles meeting flesh.

I could hear Tig laughing like a madman as he shoved one of the pop-up guys into a nearby dumpster. “You think you can roll up on us?” Tig shouted, swinging wildly. “You don’t even know who the hell you’re messing with! I will skull fuck the shit out of you!”

It was over almost as fast as it started. The pop-up club didn’t stand a chance. For every wannabe swinging, there was a Son there to put him down. Opie landed a brutal punch to some guy’s gut, doubling him over, and he puked everywhere. Chibs effortlessly dodged a wild swing, retaliating with a knee to the ribs—and I never heard ribs break before, but I sure as shit heard it then. Ratboy went into a scuffle, 2 of them on him, and he came out of it with someone’s ear in his mouth.

Within minutes, the pop-up bikers were staggering, trying to crawl back to their bikes. They were bruised embarrassed, and quickly realized they’d bitten off way more than they could chew. To make matters more embarrassing for them, the Sons managed to strip them all of their vests, sending them home in bloody, torn-up t-shirts.

The Raggedy Ann and Andy couple, still smarting from their earlier run-in with Tig, were huddled near the back of the group. As soon as they saw their fake-ass friends get dismantled, they bolted.

“They were with them,” I muttered, piecing it together. “The dolls called these idiots.”

Jax wiped a bit of blood from his lip and nodded. “Guess they didn’t like Tig’s introduction.”

Just then, a deep voice cut through the lot. “What the hell’s going on here?” Clay strode out from the clubhouse, wearing a Superman suit that, despite the ridiculous cape, somehow managed to make him look just as intimidating as ever.

“We got a new club,” Ratboy said, his voice dry with amusement. “Didn’t get the memo on the rules.”

Clay glanced at the retreating bikes and then at the vests, the boys snatched. “Ah…Posers. Got some intel on ‘em earlier today. Piney saw them just outside of Charming when he left the dispensary. No real connections, just a bunch of assholes trying to play club.”

Jax nodded. “Guess we’ll have to teach ‘em how this works.”

Clay crossed his arms. “Guess so. Enjoy the party first. But when this is over, we’re going trick or treating.”

Happy smiled menacingly. “Looking forward to it.”

I smiled, watching Jax walk toward me through the sea of people, the green hair of his Beetlejuice costume making him stand out even more so than usual.

“There’s my Beetlejuice,” I beamed, my heart lightening at the sight of him.

Jax slipped an arm around me, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “I’m hoping to make you say my name three times later.”

I flushed, biting my lip. “Oh, Teller…”

He sat down beside me. We were all just sitting there, letting the adrenaline fade, the party slowly winding back up. But someone was always keeping an eye on Tig. The guy might’ve been calm for now, but he was never really out of the woods.

A sudden burst of laughter from the other side of the room caught my attention. I turned just in time to see Bobby—dressed as Elvis, of course—belting out a karaoke tune with Juice and Tig as his backup dancers. The sight of Bobby shaking his hips in a rhinestone jumpsuit was too much, and I burst out laughing. Juice dressed up as an 80s pop star was kind of fitting, too.

Jax glanced over, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, shit, Opes. This is our jam.”

Opie hammered his beer, slamming it on the table. “It is.”

And just like that, Bobby had four backup singers. What a way to close out a Halloween riot.

[nopointic]

blue eye samurai was so funny to me how everyone who saw mizu's blue eyes immediately were like YUCK! 🤮 DEMON! *hides children behind them* because in modern society today it's the opposite. i remember always being bummed when a character would have blue eyes and that was their defining beauty trait. books would go on to describe characters with brown eyes as dull and lifeless and you don't think these things stick with you but it does. and then colored contacts came out. and i remember so many black people in my city buying blue contact lenses to feel "prettier". it became a huge thing. so with black girls it was ok we gotta straighten our hair with toxic chemicals and for a bigger glow up pop in blue contacts.

then photoshopping became very common. fans would give their favorite artists blue eyes. i remember this specifically with zayn in one direction. it made me so fucking mad. zayn looks like something out of perfect runway anyways. and here fans were making his eyes blue and saying "now he's perfect!" imagine thinking zayn malik needed a makeover. mind boggling then and now.

but here we have a whole show where the culture is like nah those blue eyes? that shit is demonic and ugly. it's obviously cruel and nobody should be treated as such.

but remember when fowler bragged how one day they would love a face like his and consider his beauty above their their own when he got done colonizing their country? it happened.

in damn near every country where nonwhite people exist, european features are the pinnacle of beauty.

we see this when we have "international" modeling show. a model from every country but the sharp jawlines and lightest skin always win. loose curls not tightly coiled hair like some black people have. thin bodies. tall bodies. international but those qualities are always wanted. the same fucking look. a slight shade difference at most.

hell the natural hair movement with black people is oddly just a parade of expensive products to give one the looser curl pattern that society accepts. curl puddings and products to combat "shrinkage" makes up majority of black hair products in the natural section. it's something.

chemically straightened hair. the natural hair that grows out of my black scalp has been called unprofessional and needed several laws to protect others like me from various job discrimination policies. kids with natural black hair are still being told their hair is out of dress code.

skin bleaching is popular in several ethnic cultures. i can find a bleaching soap at my local big box retail store. they're not advertised but it's still a big seller. i want you to put that into perspective.

many products today boast about glowing skin. brightening is a nicer way to say bleaching. turmeric powder and lemon in everything now.

western media loves to point fingers at koreans now due to an increase of kpop in the media. they judge those who spend a massive amount of time, money, and resources to obtain a strict set of beauty standards. lighter skin, weight loss plans, sharper cheeks, new eyelids, color contacts, chin exercises you can learn on youtube it goes on and on. western white people judge asian people on their beauty obsession standards and it's tone deaf. it's a slap in the fucking face when i see it. your ancestors told all of us people of color we were ugly and needed to look like you to succeed in life. now we do it and you wanna point fingers and talk about how vain and fickle we are? that's fucked up! it pissed me off!!!!!!

so i guess it's a bitter taste in my mouth when i do laugh at mizu's "unfortunate eye color" being the cause of so much pain. because now it's the opposite.

as the cool kids say, she would do "numbers" in beauty standard rankings now. ethnic, but not "too" ethnic. blue eyes, androgynous and athletic but not too bulky and long hair? the algorithm says money honey!

funny how all this works out. eurocentric beauty is a hell of a drug. no katana will be able to kill that. no body positivity campaign or hashtag will undo any of this global phenomenon we now live with. we can call brown eyes beautiful now in songs and yet the angels in the church will always have blue eyes. this is the first time i've not seen a fandom go batshit insane when seeing a person of color WITH blue eyes. usually it's all caps with phrases like "woke liberal bullshit" or something. the fallout from the black little mermaid with red hair showed this very well.

white people have damn near colonized every other race and then they cry foul at the thought of a non white person with eyes other than brown and hair other than black and brown. it's the funniest shit. i mean they'll accept a mermaid. but her being black with red hair? too far. we truly would have never heard the fucking end if they made halle wear blue contacts as ariel. white people would have lost their fucking minds on another level lbh!

we joke that brown contacts would have given mizu an easier life. it's sobering that blue contacts and other fucked up beauty rituals give people of color the same easier life now.

mizu in blue eye samurai during that period is shunned for their appearance. today mizu would do numbers on instagram and make money being the face of some random blue low calorie sport drinks available at big chain stores.

anyways that's my TED talk on blue eyes, eurocentric beauty standards and why i really really love how blue eyes samurai shows all of this. i am in awe of the creators making this show from them having a biracial asian baby with blue eyes. because so many don't even realize how their blue eyes will always leave them being talked about no matter what. they will be called a a faker with contacts, have to constantly prove with baby pictures their eyes were and have always been blue. people will make immediate judgements and even though you would think this would not happen in 2023 it does.

so i commend the parents for making this show. it's a conversation we need to have more. how society treats those with certain features when you are not in control of said features. and how far we go personally to try to "fit in" in a world that is hell bent on neat and tidy labels. this is good this is bad blah blah blah.

i fucking love blue eye samurai. please let there be a season 2!

[atiredfangirl]

Why do you dislike Bucktommy and Tommy so much? Is it due to his last behaviour, or better yet, that he didn't stick up for Chim and Hen and was, therefore compliant? If this is the case, aren't they showing that he has changed by showing that he is now cool with Hen and Chim? I'm asking as a black queer person.

Or is it because they've become quite popular in a matter of weeks? If so shouldn't people be allowed to ship, write and enjoy what they want?

Also, isn't it hypocritical of you to ship Buddie when the actor who plays Eddie has expressed some awful racist and homophobic views and things?

Since I had never posted about Tommy on this app before today, I am assuming you found me on Twitter and came here to ask this anonymously, but if you follow my Twitter, you can see that I did not hate Tommy or Bucktommy to begin with.

Yes, I was hesitant when they brought him back because of his history with Chimney and Hen, but I was not one of the fans that “hated” him. I was willing to give the character another chance. But I also haven’t forgotten if “honestly if I thought about you at all, I probably wouldn’t” or how he was compliant with what went down at the 118 before Bobby arrived.

But I was willing to forgive that because he seemed to have changed a lot! When 7x04 aired, I retweeted several tweets supporting them because even if I am a Buddie shipper, I can respect that this is a big deal for Buck and I’m really and truly a Buck stan at heart. Literally just want the man to be happy.

Then 7x05 aired, and after seeing how nervous Buck was, he still made that stupid little closet joke in front of Eddie, knowing damn well Buck wasn’t out to Eddie. That wasn’t okay with me (also as a Queer woman), and then he leaves Buck alone on the sidewalk, doesn’t even tell him until the Uber is there that he called one for himself.

And now I’m watching the sneak peeks for 7x06 and he’s put zero effort into dressing up for the party (being on call is a weak excuse - it’s not like he’s going up in the helicopter in jeans and a Henley - he’s gonna have to change either way) and even the Henley comment felt condescending and rude.

I’m not delusional, I’m well aware Buddie may never happen, but either way, there’s no way the writers are writing bucktommy as endgame either, so it’s not like it’s coming from a place of fearing he’s a threat to Buddie. I just don’t like him for Buck. It’s not new or personal - I’ve had reasons to dislike literally all of buck’s love interests. I just wasn’t particularly active on social media about this show before this season, even though I’ve been watching it since it began.

As for Ryan, I don’t associate the actor with the character. I learned a long time ago that if you want to enjoy fandoms and ships, it’s very important to separate characters from actors.

[dominickeating-source]

TV ZONE ISSUE 132 - PAGE 48

Dominic Keating & Kira Clavell - Devilish Duo Evil has never looked so good or been this bad

Night has fallen on the city of Vancouver, British Columbia. Its docklands, normally quiet at this time, are a-buzz with activity. The cast and crew of the new Action/Fantasy television series The Immortal are settling in for a long night shoot. The sound of a car engine gets closer and a sleek, deep purple Prowler stops in front of one of the trailers. The driver, actress Kira Clavell, and a crew member exit the vehicle. Dominic Keating sticks his head out of the open trailer and playfully shakes a finger at his co-star. "Ah, ha, where have you been? We've been waiting for you," he teases. Clavell smiles, "I'm so sorry. They asked me if I wanted to test-drive the car. I couldn't say no." He laughs and says, "She just loves playing with the props. "Keating lights a cigarette and joins Clavell on the sofa inside the trailer. Both actors are wearing suitably evil black garb in preparation for their scenes later that night. On The Immortal they play a pair of centuries-old demons named Mallos (Keating) and Vashista (Clavell). Their characters are being chased through Tim by The Immortal. Raphael Cain (series leading man Lorenzo Lamas), and his young sidekick Goodwin (Steve Braun). Long ago the two evil doers wronged Cain and he is out for revenge.

Wear Well

"Mallos and Vashista are very old but they look pretty food for their age," jokes Keating. "The two began their evil escapades in ancient Japan during the 1600s. They came from the Earth's core or the Devil's conveyor belt if you will. There's this amazing scene in the pilot where the two demons and their horses are spat forth from the ground and are covered in molten lava." His co-star interjects, "That particular scene was so cool. We got to ride these great big beautiful black horses. The costumes we wore were absolutely fantastic, too. It's such a treat to have a detailed wardrobe like that because it helps get you into the mood of the times." Keating chuckles, "Yes, the costume department did do a wonderful job. However, that day I was more concerned with the fact that it would be my first time riding a horse. I did OK and was quite pleased with my saddle ability. I didn't fall off, I hit my mark and I remembered my lines." "Anyway, getting back to doing evil. Mallos and Vashista first cross paths with Raphael Cain when they kill his wife and kidnap his child. I assume they still have her in some kind of demon nursery, although she'd be fairly old by now. It's through their acts of violence that Raphael becomes The Immortal. The show flits back and forth between modern and ancient times to allow the viewers to witness this transformation. So his quest is to find his daughter and, along the way, fight evil and slay demons." "Mallos and Vashista have been at this little cat and mouse game for 400 years," continues the actor. "When you next see the two demons it's in the present. They're dressed in modern day clothes, all black, of course, carrying their cell phones and cruising the streets in their Prowler. They look like a pair of so-called 'beautiful people' from Beverly Hills or Hollywood."

Passions

According to the actors, their characters share more than just a passion for evil. "Apparently, the writers modeled the relationship between Mallos and Vashista on a real-life celebrity pair." says Keating. "So they're lovers, I guess, but there's something about their attraction to each other that's just not right, so you know what I mean?" Clavell adds, "I think they have a very volatile and unpredictable relationship. Yes, they share a strong chemistry, but you're not sure if this will cause them to make love of try to kill each other. Let's just say that it certainly keeps work interesting for me and Dominic," she laughs. Both actors had a great deal of stage, film and tv experience prior to being cast on The Immortal. London-born Keating made his professional debut on stage in 1987 at Man in the Moon theater in Chealsea. This was followed by more stage appearances in London as well as Edinburgh and Dublin. He has guest-starred on British tv series Inspector Morse and The Bill and was a series regular on Teenage Health Freak and Desmond's. Since coming across the pond, Keating has worked on a number of movies including most recently The Hollywood Sign starring Tom Berenger, Burt Reynolds,, and Rod Steiger. On tv he has had roles on GysE, Poltergeist: The Legacy and Buffy The Vampire Slayer. The actor was slated to play the part of Goodwin on The Immortal but things changed before his audition. "They decided to age it [the series] down to appeal to a younger, broader-based audience. So Steve was brought in for Goodwin and it became clear that I could play one of the two lead demons. Malice, who then became Mallie and now Mallos. I read once for Michael Grais [executive producer] and, luckily, I nailed it. I was asked back to meet Lorenzo and the rest of the production team, we talked about golf and they offered me the job."

Tough-Gal

The actor's beautiful co-star Clavell planned to major in political science and psychology at university before the acting bug bit her. "I knew if I didn't try it [acting] I would regret it, so I did," she says happily. Lately, the actress has been cast in "tough-gal" parts, which has been ideal training for her role of Vashista on The Immortal. "I played a terrorist on an episode of La Femme Nikita and got to fire an M25 and another really neat gun. I don't know, perhaps I was an assassin in a previous life." laughs Clavell. Keating nudges her playfully in the arm and smiles, "To look at her you'd think butter would melt in that mouth." Clavell elbows him back, "When it came to my first audition for Vashista, I did it on tape. The moment I read the character breakdown I knew I'd have fun playing her. I did two five-minute takes and sent the tape to the show's producers. Naturally, I was thrilled when I received a call-back. I was flown out to Vancouver to do a live audition for a roomful of people including Michael Grais and David Straiton, who directed The Immortal pilot." "I wore this Vashista-like cat suit and after my audition I went into the ladies' room to change," recalls the actress. "When I cane out everyone was gone. I thought, 'Oh, I guess they didn't like me'. I went to see my agent and, much to my surprise, was told that the producers had called and the role was mine! So here I am!"

Anti-Demon Ally

In the two-hour pilot episode 'Demons of the Night', Cain and Goodwin gain an ally, Dr. Sara Beckman (April Telek), when they save her from two demons. Cain is hurt and they go to Sara's apartment where he can rest and heal himself. The Immortal does not know that his arch-enemies, Mallos and Vashista, are close by and are planning to deal him and his friends a deadly blow - Keating and Clavell start laughing when they recall their first day working together. "Ah, yes, this is when we shot my two favorite scenes in the pilot," grins Keating. "I'd been late for the read-through on the previous Friday. Not the best way to begin but I eventually got there. Kira and I then met over the weekend for dinner and at least got to know each other a bit. On Monday morning we arrived downtown at the location shoot on Vancouver Street. It was 7:15 and freezing cold. In the first scene, our two characters blow up Sara's apartment. Mallos aims his demon finger at the apartment window and Vashista starts getting all hot and bothered. Before you know it, the have their arms and legs wrapped around each other," laughs the actor. "Boy, these two really get off doing evil stuff!" "The next scene we filmed was in a restaurant. Mallos and Vashista are feeding each other raw fish while discussing someone else's demise. Suddenly, she gets all excited and climbs up on the table. Before you know it, the sushi is on the floor along with the champagne and everything else on the table." Clavell looks at Keating and says, "She seems to be a very excitable character, don't you think?" The actor nods in agreement and continues, "The funny thing was the director said to us, 'That's great That was amazing! That was electric! It was terrific! Do you think you could tone it down a bit, though? We don't know yet what time of the day or night this show is going to air.' So we made things more G-rated." Originally, Mallos and Vashista were to appear in only the first couple of episodes. However, the writers decided to bring the evil twosome back periodically throughout the first season. This was good news for Clavell and Keating, who are looking forward to doing as much as possible with their characters. "When I first started acting I'd always be cast as the best friend or the girl next door. With Vashista and, as I said earlier, some of my other recent roles, I've gone from being really good to being really bad and I love it!" Keating is equally as pleased to be working on the series. "As an actor, sometimes it gets boring waiting around while the next shot is being set up. It's at times like that when I say to myself, 'Hey, I'm getting to create a dream world that doesn't exist and that entertains people. How lucky am I?' Trust me, that puts things right in perspective."

[elis-corner]

So I tried binding with tape for the first time (unsafe situation edition).

If you want to hear about how I'm getting away with it and my experiences, look below the cut <3

Before I begin, if you're looking for advice, I live in Australia, have limited income, and am typically an AU B or C in terms of bra size and don't compress well. A lot of my advice will be specific to my environment and physicality, so keep that in mind.

I (transmasc) currently live in a context where I have to maintain a somewhat feminine appearance (for my interests, religion, education, etc.), and am financially dependant on people who are wholly against queerness.

SPORTS BRAS: Almost a year after I realised I wasn't cis, and that just dressing in masculine-ish women's clothes wasn't going to stop my dysphoria, I started getting sports bras, as I heard they could compress your chest. This is what they DIDN'T tell me:

remove. the. cups. They're just extra padding and will not help you look flat.

Not any sports bra will cut it. You don't want a low impact one; get a medium to high impact one. I currently use ones from Target/Kmart since I'm broke. I've found that, out of what I've tried, the "Active Everlast Womens Square Crop Top" from Kmart works best for me.

Either size down one, or double layer. Don't do both, you won't be able to breathe.

Try them on in store with a shirt over it and see how you look. Try double-layering them under the shirt, too. Don't forget to take the pads out when you try them.

Don't wear two if it's cold. You're gonna layer for the weather anyway so you'll already look smaller, plus you might struggle to breathe.

TAPING: I should probably preface with this: don't tape all the way around your body, don't tape with anything not meant for skin, and cover those nips if you don't want to feel the worst regret of your life (you can use covers, cotton, tissue, whatever).

TransTape is not an option, due to my living situation, so what I did was I got one of my friends (who does sport and therefore owns a ton of sports tape) to give me some rolls. This is a good and safe alternative, HOWEVER:

The strips are often thinner, so I recommend sticking them together into a thicker strip before putting it on yourself.

Remember to rub to activate adhesive.

Put test strips on your chest (underarms or sternum) for 12-24 hours to see if your chest will react negatively to the adhesive or materials.

With a larger chest, you might want to lie down and see what gravity does to you. If this doesn't work, do it the mirror, and look at how your body moves when you pull it BEFORE YOU PUT THE TAPE ON.

If you're cool with it, maybe get someone you trust to help you for the first time or two.

THERE ARE TUTORIALS. USE THEM.

WHERE TO BUY THINGS IN AUSTRALIA (if you can afford/are safe): In Sydney, there is a store called Sock Drawer Heroes (SDH) which ships around AU and NZ. They are a queer-owned business which sells gender-affirming products for people of all genders. Their shipping has discreet packaging, too.

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE PRODUCTS, but I know people who do and are satisfied with their purchases.

In terms of transmasc stuff, they sell:

Binders of different colours and lengths (their own brand and Underworks)

Tape

Packers

"Adult" products

Their binders: - Range from AUD$64-92 (the full length ones are more costly, and the most expensive are the swimwear options) - Come in full and half lengths - Is a swimwear option - Different colours, however as a small business they only have a few shades (which are lighter skin tones, black, and white) - There used to be a binder donation, I don't know what the deal is with it now. - Returns are possible. The binder cannot have been worn (tried on is fine), and it must be 30 days within the date of purchase.

Their tape: - Wider skin tone range than the binders (including black, white, and vivid colours if you wanna have fun). - Costs AUD$20-24

Their packers: - Pouches, prosthetics, underwear, straps - Again, limited shade range (about 4-5 per model) - AUD$16-159 (depends on what you want, of course) - I do not pack, so I can't really talk about much here.

I hope this will help someone out there, what with the lack of queer resources there are for aussies. Lots of love and stay safe! <3

[shoutyourporpoise]

been letting my thoughts percolate on the Barbie film since I saw it over the weekend and: for one, I want to clarify that I had a lot of fun watching it. and for another, I am critiquing it because this is how I engage with movies I’m trying to actually think about. Complaining is my love language. The Barbie movie is funny and it also takes itself seriously and tries to establish that it’s making a Point, so I am also taking it seriously and evaluating it as such. Also this post is gonna be a total mess bc it’s just me tangenting over and over. Uh. Okay now that I’ve written it out it’s long as all fuck lemme add a readmore.

the way they handled Sasha from a costuming perspective bothered me. She’s introed to us dressed in all black tee and jeans, and over the course of the movie she undergoes Barbiefication with her top becoming a deep maroon and eventually ending the movie in a bright pink dress, which I should add is if anything even *more* girly than the pink pantsuit her mother Gloria ends up with. In this way, the film conveys her rejection of Barbie as not just a lack of connection with her mother, but as a disconnect from *her own* femininity which it implies she’s distances herself from because she thinks it’s shameful to be what the world thinks a woman is. Did they have to do that? We see other Barbies who don’t wear pink but manage to convey a very slick, costumey version of their job and I would not have minded seeing a camp Goth Social Justice Barbie costume by the end of the film.

but I think the thing that sticks in my craw the most is how Sasha’s Barbie Takedown Speech (which is supposed to be a mirror to Gloria’s Contradictory Womanhood Speech*) is grounded in real criticisms people have of Barbie, which is blunted by the fact that Barbieland as shown in the movie is explicitly more diverse than Barbie is now. The comment Sasha makes about body image issues to Stereo Barbie is supposed to be seen as clearly ridiculous once she goes to Barbieland and meets Barbies of all body types including fat ones, when I know for a fact that at present the “curvy” Barbie body type on the market is like at BEST someone on the edge between midsize and plus. And that was introduced alongside the petite and tall makes like…I think less than a decade ago?

it’s also the fact that Stereo Barbie is metatextually both an individual doll and the representation of Barbie as a collective. She defends herself to Sasha by citing the other Barbie’s’ accomplishments because for her they are all inseparable and almost interchangeable. In theory this is how every Barbie works, but by having Margot Robbie (“Stereotypical Barbie”) be the one to go out into Los Angeles and get Velveteen Rabbitted into being real by the Ghost Mother-God of Ruth Handler** it also sets an interesting tone for Sasha’s critique because she’s not just yelling at some white woman, she’s yelling at a white woman who represents a collective of Barbies that are more diverse than she is and also critically less Real than she is.***

also I know the part where Sasha calls Barbie a fascist is supposed to be funny bc it’s a very Teen Angry thing to say to someone you disagree with but. I mean lol she goes back to Barbieland to find that the Kendom**** has taken over and then goes “we must return everything back to our Ideal Past where the Kens were merely decorative and to do this we must hatch a plot to prevent them from voting” lmao. Obviously after that she has the conversation with Ken and they have the briefest scene going “maybe we should all be equal and individual” but WILD thing to see after the fascist line. Also uh. Sentiment is cool and all but where actually do the Kens live. Are they back to being homeless.

*hey how come hearing about how womanhood is multifaceted and contradictory deprograms the Barbies from patriarchal Ken conditioning…into agreeing with one another completely? None of the Barbies were like “hey I meant it I liked taking a Brain Vacation where I didn’t need to bear the load of decision making?” None of them were like “What the Ken’s did was wrong but maybe we can talk to them the same way you’ve talked to us to make them understand this hurts them?” None of them were like “love y’all but I am not sitting through 4 hours of guitar to turn my friends Ken against each other through making them jealous?” No??? Women are complex and contain multitudes but those multitudes all align? Or am I supposed to accept that they all agree because even after exposure to both patriarchy and the “antidote” of feminism they are still insufficiently Real to think complexly?

**also given the opening of Barbie mentioning that she was groundbreaking because she was a doll that represented an aspirational adult woman so girls were no longer consigned to motherhood it is VERY interesting that they had her introduce herself at the end of the film as Barbara Handler***** rather than her canonical name of Barbara Roberts, thereby cementing herself as Ruth’s daughter. Why frame Ruth as the mother to her creation just because she named the doll after her real-life child? Why not emphasize that she, too, broke the mold of motherhood by becoming a businesswomen and creative entrepreneur? Like cool cool get a pithy jab in about the double mastectomy and the tax fraud but why not engage more deeply with her as a businesswoman given that the film’s opening volley is that women are capable of being things other than mothers?

***and they’re less Real in more ways than one! If you look at posts showing which doll each Barbie represents, you will see that many of the women of color are either playing a racebent version of an existing doll, are an amalgam of other doll concepts, or are created from whole cloth. Again, Sasha’s speech is grounded in real-life critiques of Barbie, but the film’s more diverse casting undermines that speech because in *this* universe Barbie is less of a tool of white hegemony. Did you know that besides the red-sareed doll from the Dolls of the World collection, we didn’t see an Indian Barbie until *last year?* If you were going off the impressions of the movie you might not have known that!

****also I get that it’s supposed to be a twist that the enemies aren’t the Mattel executives; it’s Ken learning about patriarchy and bringing it back to Barbieland. And we’re supposed to be like “oh cool Will Farrell’s character genuinely cares about inspiring little kids with Barbie!” but it *does* leave the issue of the boardroom being maidenless still very much there which I guess is solved by…they have the ghost of Ruth Handler there? …I guess this is one of those lines you’re not allowed to fully cross if you’re making a movie approved by Mattel?

*****yep I get the joke to the ending line and it’s funny in the moment but now I’ve thought about it for more than two seconds and like. Okay so the setup for the punchline is that when she’s catcalled by guys IRL and then mentions she doesn’t have a vagina (and Ken doesn’t have a penis) so they’re all smooth down there. Given her total lack of knowledge of the world outside of Barbieland how do. Any of them know what a vagina is to deny having one. I assume Midge has a detachable belly bc that’s what her doll was too, so she doesn’t…have a vagina either. And because the gynecologist joke happens after she becomes Real what does that say? That your genitals are what make you Real (or worse, that a vagina is what makes you a real woman because you cannot call upon the lack of one to protect you from catcallers)? Is Hari Nef’s Dr. Barbie trans? What does that imply would’ve happened to her if she became Real?

Okay wait now I’m on *this* thread of thought. So Dr. Barbie is horrified when Stereo Barbie’s feet go flat to point of fake-ralphing alongside all the other Barbies, so that implies she…wasn’t assigned Ken at birth? Because otherwise why would a Barbie having flat feet be so shocking to her? Are there no possibilities for transition in Barbieland are you either a Barbie or a Ken (or Allan)? Actually yeah hey Barbie’s feet going flat is sort of an aspect of her body not conforming to her gender isn’t it??? They could’ve done something there maybe.

And look I know casting Hari Nef made a number of people very angry and that it’s a stone on the scale for letting trans people just play roles that have nothing to do with their transness which is cool but also why *didn’t* this movie have anything more than a passing nod to Earring Magic Ken and then call that a day for representing the franchise as it is? The racial casting attempts to make the franchise more diverse, so why not do the same for gender and sexual orientation? There are actually already two Barbies released for the BMR1959 60th anniversary collection who have “Ken” builds; why aren’t they in there; get them some rep!!

I guess this is maybe a lot to ask of a film with a runtime under two hours but given how it hyped itself up I didn’t see it address the whiteness baked into the Barbie franchise or how it reifies cishet ideals beyond the implication that everyone acts Like That because it’s how girls are expected to play with their Barbies. When they went to the Real World (cinemasins ding implying LA is the real world) I wish in all the facets of womanhood they showed us we got to see ANY queerness made explicit. I would’ve eaten my own fingers to see a butch on that screen.

…I guess at the end I feel about this the way I feel about Legally Blonde? It’s trying to have a dialogue with both itself and with the culture in which it’s made re: attitudes towards femininity and it’s a VERY fun watch but ultimately lies back on existing ideas about gender without bothering to interrogate it as much as those who love the film claims that it does.