#someone who knows things how close am i to right

[eupheme]

— double the pleasure, triple the fun

[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.6k

tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings

a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

(Or, your two becomes three.)

“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”

Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 

Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.

To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.

“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 

A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”

“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”

The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.

“Is that... Logan?”

“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”

There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”

“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“

Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”

“Definitely, maybe.”

Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 

“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”

He hums, head tilting.

“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”

Your brow furrows.

“You are talking about Logan now, right?”

Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”

And what a question it is. 

You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.

And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 

That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.

It was different. Special.

“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”

You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 

“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”

“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”

He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“

Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.

“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”

Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.

“Do you think he wants that, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”

You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”

“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.

“I’ll handle it.”

It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.

A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  

It will be nice to be able to take your time. 

They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 

Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.

How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 

"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"

"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."

And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.

The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 

Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.

"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."

Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."

"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"

"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."

At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 

Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.

It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 

But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 

And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.

"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."

"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"

It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.

Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 

"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"

Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.

"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"

He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"

"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."

That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"

"Yeah, baby." He grins.

"Really fucking good." 

The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 

Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 

Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 

And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 

More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.

It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 

Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.

Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 

“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 

It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 

“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”

“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 

A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”

“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”

Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.

“This is you handling it?” You hiss.

“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”

Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 

Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 

“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”

There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.

A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.

It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 

A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 

“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 

”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”

There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.

“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 

“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.

Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.

“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 

Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 

Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.

That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 

It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 

“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”

You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 

“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”

Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”

For us. 

Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 

Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 

Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 

They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.

There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 

“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”

Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.

“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”

Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”

Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”

Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.

“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”

Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.

Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 

Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 

“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 

A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.

Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”

Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.

“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”

“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”

Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.

Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.

“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.

His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.

“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”

Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 

Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.

“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”

Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.

“Fuck us into your tight ass.”

You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 

“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”

“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.

His fingers crook, and curl.

“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 

“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”

His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”

It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.

The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.

His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.

Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.

A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 

“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”

They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.

“Stop moving when I do.”

It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.

“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”

His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.

“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 

Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 

A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”

You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.

“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”

“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 

“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”

Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.

Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 

Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.

It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.

Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 

How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.

A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.

It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 

He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.

Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 

A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.

Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 

The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.

A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.

Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.

A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 

“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”

Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.

“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.

The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.

His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”

“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.

“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”

Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”

Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.

Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  

Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.

You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  

“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”

Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 

It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 

Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 

The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 

Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 

There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.

Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.

Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 

Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 

Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.

“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”

“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”

Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 

Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 

Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 

Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 

It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 

Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 

A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 

It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 

“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”

Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.

As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 

“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”

“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 

Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.

“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, but the way.”

Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 

Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 

Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.

The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 

Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.

You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.

“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 

Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.

“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”

“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”

A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”

“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”

Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 

That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.

There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.

Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 

Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 

“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.

“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”

He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 

“I’m good.”

thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )

[pickingupmymercedes]

A smile like that - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: playful, silly and sassy

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Lewis was smiling and so were we❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

I should’ve known what would happen the moment I sent that text.

So, the secret ingredient to you is a shitty Friday and some drama, then?

When Lewis has something to prove, he really proves it. Not just to himself, to the entire world.

And in typical Lewis’s fashion, he doesn’t miss an opportunity to boost about it, even when I’m literally working.

I’m properly miffed as I storm into his driver’s room—no knock, no warning. Just righteous annoyance, fully loaded and ready to fire.

I can’t let him get away with this one, I tell myself. Not today.

Not after that ridiculous Instagram post. I was working, for God’s sake. Interviewing drivers, doing my actual job. And he’s out there, posting photos like it’s some romantic movie.

I should stay mad at him for at least a good ten minutes, minimum. Really drive the point home this time.

But as I catch sight of him, slouched on the couch with that ridiculous grin, my resolve wavers.

Damn it. It’s like trying to stay mad at Roscoe.

He’s still in his Mercedes shir, looking far too pleased with himself, his braids peeking out from under his cap, sweat glistening on his forehead.

Honestly, it should be illegal for someone to look that good after sweating like they do on those cars.

“Oh, hey, love,” he says casually, not even bothering to look up.

Oh, we’re going with casual now.

I close the door with a deliberate click and lean against it, crossing my arms. “Do you want to explain yourself?”

He finally looks up, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What?”

I scoff, unfolding my arms as I march toward him, pulling out my phone with the offending evidence.

“This” I practically shove the screen in his face. It’s his Instagram post, the one where he posted a photo of himself gazing down at me in the media pen with: Had to make sure her smile was also because of me.

It takes all my restraint not to groan aloud. Because honestly, the audacity.

Lewis leans back, completely unfazed, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You were smiling though?”

“That’s not the point, Lewis,” I deadpanned, even though, yes, I was smiling.

But of course I was. It’s impossible not to when he’s around, and that’s exactly the problem?

I hate how he does this to me. One minute, I’m determined to stay mad, the next, I’m grinning like an idiot just because he threw me a smile. It’s infuriating, and yet…

Yet here I am, standing in front of him, and no matter how much he drives me up the wall my traitorous heart does a little somersault because he’s sitting there, giving me that crooked smile like he’s some damn rom-com lead who just said the most heart-melting thing in the world.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together like he’s gearing up for a negotiation. “It’s totally the point.”

I blink at him. “You seriously posted this just to see if I’d show up here?”

“Well…” He pauses, his eyes flickering over my face as if he’s gauging just how annoyed I really am. “That, and because of your text earlier. You know, the one about my shitty Fridays ?”

I raise a brow. “That was sarcasm.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, not buying it for a second. “I was just making sure you had a smile like that for me, too.”

God, he’s infuriating.

I huff, but it’s weak. “You know, I was working. Like, interviewing drivers. Doing my job.”

Lewis stands up, taking slow, deliberate steps until he’s standing right in front of me, way too close for comfort—except it’s always comfortable with him. “And one of us was making sure the most important person in the room was smiling.”

Oh. Great. He’s bringing out the charm now.

“You’re unbelievable” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it anymore.

“And yet, you’re here” he says, stepping even closer, his hand brushing against mine.

I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch, betraying me. “Don’t get used to it.”

He smirks. “Too late”

I let out a long-suffering sigh, even as my heart betrays me, pounding a little faster.

His hands find my waist, warm and steady, and with one gentle tug, I’m pulled into him.

I tell myself I’m still annoyed, but the way his fingers trace small circles against my back makes it impossible to hold on to that thought for long.

The scent of sweat and his signature cologne fills the small space between us, and I hate how comforting it feels.

I should be making a point here.

Instead, I find myself leaning into him, my cheek pressing against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding my own.

Because it’s Lewis, and no matter how annoying or cocky or insufferable he is in these moments, I’m always going to melt when he holds me like this.

And should I say it? The words are there, right on the tip of my tongue.

Once I say them, there’s no going back to the easy banter, no covering it up with another snarky remark.

But he deserves to hear it. Especially today.

I lift my head slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. His teasing grin has softened, replaced by something quieter, something that makes my chest tighten.

“You know,” I murmur, my voice a little more vulnerable than I intended, “I’m really proud of you.”

He freezes for just a second, his eyes searching mine. And then his grip tightens, just slightly, like he’s anchoring himself. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, cautious, like he doesn’t quite believe it yet.

“Yeah.” I nod, the corners of my lips tugging upward despite myself. “Never doubted you, not for a second.”

For a moment, something flickers across his eyes, and I know this means more to him than he’s letting on.

Lewis can put on a front, make jokes, tease all he wants, but deep down, this sport is his entire world, and today had been a good day.

After a Friday where nothing went right, after a car that was fighting him every step of the way, he still pulled through. And I’m proud. Proud because I know how much it takes, how much he gives.

He lets out a breath, resting his forehead against mine. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

I grin. “Part of the job, remember?”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m still gonna hold you to that smile thing, though.”

I snort. “You’re so needy.”

It’s ridiculous how comfortable being in his arms is—how easy it feels, even if it shouldn’t.

I tilt my head back slightly to meet his gaze again, my hand sliding up his chest to rest just above his heart.

“So,” I say, my tone casual but laced with a hint of something more, “tomorrow…”

His eyes darken with interest. “Yeah?”

I give him a coy smile. “I could make it worth your while if you get a win.”

He raises a brow, his grip on my waist tightening. “Oh? And what exactly does ‘worth my while’ entail?”

I shrug, playing it cool. “Guess you’ll have to win to find out.”

He groans dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine again. “Now I’ve got pressure.”

“You love it though” I tease, throwing his words back at him.

He pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m holding you to this.”

“Good. But this is if you win.”

He pouts, an exaggerated look of defeat crossing his features. “Podiums are awesome too! Come on, at least give me top three.

I tilt my head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm, tempting… but no.”

He shakes his head, but he’s grinning now, his dimple making an appearance. “You’re ruthless.”

“And you love it” I say again, and this time, I mean it in more ways than one.

“Okay,” he says, his tone amused “but when I win, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re that confident?”

He smirks, leaning in just close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. “You just gave me one more reason to be.”

There it was again, that damn confidence. How was I ever supposed to resist that?

The heat of his body seeps into mine, making my pulse quicken, and for a second, I realize he’s the one with all the control here.

“Good,” I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “Now go do whatever it is you do here.”

He watches me with amusement as I head toward the door. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah. Some of us have work”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable”

“Stole my line Hamilton” I glance over my shoulder, giving him a wink “But now you’re the one smiling.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

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@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo @hiireadstuff

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Big News

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey!” You bounce up to the table. It’s funny how Bucky can look so intent. So gloomy in the midst of the bustling cafe. He sits up as he puts his phone down on the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got great news!” 

“Oh?” His brows lower, “well, you’re double sugar frappa-whatever is melting.” 

He points across the table as you sit and roll your eyes. 

“If you tried it, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. They are delicious!” You put your purse in your lap and take a long slurp through the straw. You pop your lips off and let out and ‘ahhhhh’. You smile at him as he gives you that look. 

“I don’t take sugar in my coffee and you barely take coffee in your sugar,” he drones. 

You giggle. He's always so grumpy about the smallest things. 

“News?” He prompts dully. 

“Right,” you wiggle in your seat. “I got you a date!” 

He twitches and tilts his head, “a date?” He gives you a cautious look and shifts in his seat. “Uh...” 

“Yes! This lawyer lady I know. I met her at a trivia night way back and added her on Insta. Well, I saw her post the other day and I was like how did I not think of this before?” 

“Lawyer?” He mutters. “I... you’re setting me up with a stranger?” 

“It’s a blind date. It’s fun. She’s really established and smart and beautiful. Oh my god, she posted this picture of her in a bikini—I could never wear something like that.” You get your phone out and he sighs. 

“Wait, why did you do that?” He grits. 

You look above the screen at him, “well, you said the other day that you get lonely. That’s why you have Alpine, right? And she’s so sweeeeet,” you drag out the word in adoration, “but you need someone you can talk to. Who can talk back.” 

“We talk,” he insists. 

“Yes, but we’re friends. You need someone your own age. Or closer to.” 

“Wait, how old is she?” He wonders. 

“Aha, you’re interested,” you point at him accusatorily. 

“I’m asking questions.” 

“Right, she’s... fifty something? She doesn’t look it. Like you. You don’t look... uh... 1917... carry the one...”  

“Stop that,” he demands. “I know how goddamn old I am.” 

“Ha, yeah, sorry, I...” you scroll through your Insta friends. “Here!” You turn the phone to him and beam a smile in his direction. He glances at it for a split second and shrugs. He sits back and drinks his coffee.

“I’m not really... in that scene,” he says. 

“You should get out there! I mean, you can’t bring Sam and Steve to dinner all the time. You need someone--” 

“Is this what it’s about? Because I showed up at the restaurant?” He asks. 

“No, it’s-- I’m being a friend. You two are so alike and she loves old movies and motorcycles. I could never! I'd fall off or not tie my helmet right,” you chuckle. 

“Dreamy,” he growls. 

“Bucky,” you whine back. “You gotta get out and have some fun.” 

“We have fun,” he counters. 

“We do and that’s awesome—Oh, okay, how about, I got an idea! A double date.” 

“A double—you have... a boyfriend?” He taps the porcelain cup with his metal fingertip. 

“Ha, no way. But I could find someone to come along. Just so you’re not alone. There’s a few guys at the restaurant I’m sure would go for a free meal or I mean I know other cute girls. I’m not picky.” 

He closes his eyes and a line forms between his brows. He pinches his nose and squares his shoulders. “Where the hell did you come up with the idea that I wanted to date?” 

“I...” you sit back and your smile falls. His blue eyes flick open as he drops his hand. The dimple in his cheek ticks. “I’m sorry, I thought it was—I was... trying to be a good friend.” 

He stares at you and the stone slowly eases from his jaw. He looks down and back up. He huffs. 

“I’m sorry, dreamy,” he says, “it’s just been a while for me. Not that I haven’t thought of it, you know? But I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head and glances around the cafe. “The last time I dance with a dame was a goddamn USO tour in 1945.” 

That hits you like a sixteen-wheeler. You didn’t know that. You didn’t think of it. He’s been in this world for a while and he’s handsome and a superhero! You just though he’d have lots of people interested. Charlize sure seemed excited when you asked. 

“And now you’re looking at me like I’m a loser because I haven’t kissed a gal in 80 years--” 

“No, you’re not a loser. If you are, then I am.” 

“Come on, you don’t gotta--” 

“Really. I never kissed anyone. Not lying.” 

He shakes his head and scoffs, “oh no, you’re not lying to make me feel better.” 

You put on your most sober face, “Bucky, I swear,” your cheeks burn and you put your hands on your neck. “I mean... it would be nice I’m sure but it just never came up.” He looks at you quietly. You squirm. “I know you can hear that I’m telling the truth.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he accepts at last. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, “fine. If you’re going to suffer through it, I will too.” He looks away as his jaw tenses, “if you’re going to keep pulling that puppy dog face, one day, it’s gonna wear off.” 

“Yes! Bucky’s got a date! Bucky’s got a date!” You sing out of tune. 

“Stop,” he snarls and narrows his eyes at you. You wince and giggle.  

“Yay!” You put your hands up in a demure celebration and he tuts. 

“You’re so cheesy,” he sneers. 

“And you’re a party pooper. No moping on date night, got it?” You try to put on a stern face and he squints even harder. Finally, he cracks and gives a chuckle. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he sniffs. “You and tough, don’t go together.” 

[sodamnradd]

“Don’t look,” murmured Theo, twirling a lock of Hermione’s hair around his finger. “But I think he’s jealous.”

“Who?” she whispered, desperately wanting to peek.

“Draco,” he said, caressing her cheek to keep her from checking. “He hasn’t stopped staring at you.”

“In sheer disgust? Draco despises me.”

At work yesterday, he’d insulted her penmanship. Again. Visiting her office for the third day in a row with her memo torn up in scraps, claiming her ‘barbaric handwriting’ was illegible.

“I don’t think so,” he said, leaning in close to make it seem like he was whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She plastered on a dreamy smile and looked up at him through mascara-coated lashes. “It’s a ruse, you know. Him and Astoria. They’re planning a public break up in a week or two. She’s secretly dating a Quidditch player—a half-blood.”

“The horror,” she replied with a feigned gasp. “Is that all you Slytherins do? Scheme and show off?”

“And fall in love with the wrong people,” he replied with a faraway look in his eyes, straightening when a shadow loomed over them. “Alright, mate?”

Malfoy stood at their table, tall and cross. “May I have a word, Granger?”

Theo nudged her ankle under the table and gave her a knowing grin. She shook her head, refusing to buy into his nonsense. Malfoy was probably here to insult her hair or tell her that pink made her look frumpy.

Before she could tell Malfoy to leave them alone, Theo kissed her cheek and told her not to take too long.

She was left with no choice but to follow Malfoy into the rose garden, away from the gossiping crowd. “What is it?” she demanded, prepared for his regular bullshit.

“I saw something earlier that you should know about.” The grave look on his face sparked her interest. “Look. I know I give you a hard time at work now and again—but I’ve come to… to care…” He paused and tried again. “I mean… I think you deserve… not that I…”

“Malfoy,” she said sharply.

He expelled a long breath, then blurted out, “Theo and Potter are fooling around behind your back. I saw them inside earlier.”

She was floored. And then she felt an odd rush of affection for the stormy man standing before her. It had obviously taken a lot to suck up his pride and tell her that. What had he said? Something about caring?

“I’m sorry, Granger.” He hugged her, smushing her face against his warm chest. “Don’t cry. He was probably afraid he’d get caught by his father and used you as a cover up. People do lousy things when they’re desperate. Take it from someone who knows.”

“I’m not crying,” she mumbled, nudging him back. Her heart was racing. “I know about him and Harry. We were faking it so Theo’s father would ease off him. Apparently, dating a Muggle-born witch is slightly less offensive than being gay."

He opened his mouth, then shut it. His cheeks were turning red. It was oddly sweet how he had nothing to say.

“I hear you and Astoria are pulling a similar stunt,” she said in an attempt to make him feel better.

He shrugged; voice strangled. “Family dynamics are fucked out here.”

“Theo says it’s because you all fall in love with the wrong people.” She looked meaningfully into his eyes.

He stared back. “I wouldn’t say ‘wrong’, just...” His gaze was so intense, she felt trapped in it. “…inconvenient.”

“Is that what I am?” she breathed, wondering if Theo was right. Maybe Malfoy wasn’t looking for ways to get under her skin just to be a prick. Maybe he was looking for excuses to get closer to her. “An inconvenience?”

He didn’t verbally respond, but she felt his gaze all over her. The heat emanating off him made her sweat.

She swallowed, overwhelmed. “How long until you and Astoria call it off?”

He tilted his head. “We’re waiting until the Ministry Gala.”

“Maybe Theo and I will split around that time, too,” she suggested, mentally counting down the days and hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation.

His eyelids grew heavy. He licked his lips.

She felt a little drunk with the way he was looking at her.

“Maybe,” she said, stepping closer to fix his tie. He shivered beneath her touch. “You can send me an office memo. Since my handwriting is so offensive.” She tipped her head back, whispering into his ear, “Thank you for telling me about what you saw.”

Hermione left him there speechless, smiling softly to herself as she walked away.

-

Twelve days later, an office memo nose-dived on her desk. She recognized Malfoy’s pristine handwriting, and considered if maybe hers was a bit messy in comparison.

Dinner tonight in Diagon Alley?

The pink memo bloomed into a rose. She lifted it to her nose, enchanted that it smelled like a real one. But more touched that he wanted to take her out publicly.

Pick me up at 7, she wrote, and let the office memo fly.

(847 words, prompt: fake dating for dramione month)

[pleasantspark]

What do you think of this potential 4chan leak that Lucifer is the one responsible for the hierarchy and that Sloth, Gluttony and Lust are considered good sins? https://desuarchive.org/co/thread/145383112/#145394767

> Lucifer created the terrible hierarchy of Hell as well as the Deadly Sins. He is described as a moral neutral sin.

Well, neutral is far cutting it, remember he caused nearly everything to happen in Hell. He's described as sexy, when the only sexy thing about him is his depression. No one pointed out that Lucifer was at fault for all the things to begin with, but no people are like "B-B-B-B-BUT, we needed a story to kick off Charlie!" I feel like it's stupid, also, I am a depressed person and whenever a character who is depressed does something bad, they always have to empthize on the "UWU Depressed shit" which is shit you'd see on r/gachalifecringe or r/gachaclubcringe (Which I am a moderator on, and let me tell you, the Gacha side of the Hazbin Fandom is fucked up.). I feel like most don't care because they'd much rather ship RadioApple then point out the absolute fuckery that is Lucifer himself.

>The good sins are Asmodeus, Bee, and Belphegor. The bad sins are Satan, Leviathan, and Mammon. Beelzebub actively hates the hierarchy and how it treats her hellhounds, but there isn't anything she can do about it.

Okay, first off all the sins are bad, they cannot just pick and choose. For FUCKS sake, you know who her favorite is, the funny thing is, I like Mammon, he's cute and his design/accent are great (But nothing comes greater then Jeice), so she failed at making villains scary when all they are is extremely comical people who suck at villianing and suck at life.

> Leviathan is female and a fashion queen. Alot of Envy will be focused on fashion.

Paint me green and call me a fucking pickle, more backlash would be fucking impossible. Remind me what the fuck does Fashion have to do with Envy?

Sure, people can be envious of others looks, but that ISN'T the only thing possible to be envious of.

This is Leviathan from my Universe, he's a victim of abuse from his father. (Who by the way died because of the effect he has on people, later on.)

According to Levi's official description on the Wikia:

Leviathan isn't actually Envious, rather the curse he has causes anyone nearby of him close or not to get envious of him as a person which is the main reason why Agatha is acting out.

This would've been better, but complicated storylines and things pulled from TVTropes isn't what Viz likes. Yes, Leviathan is meant to be Stolas from HB but better, and yes, I DO VOICE LEVI.

So what's the issue with Levi liking fashion? Well, it's obvious that she needs another Diva because at this rate Velvette isn't enough, and most of the fuckers in the Pride Ring seems to be fitted for other rings too.

I feel like she's trying to assign something to these character's to make them unique, but they aren't.

Lucifer is literally the Sin of Pride, and the only thing prideful about him is his fruitiness, so add that to the level of "Bible things that Viv added" he's far from prideful, and that's a fact.

Coming from someone whose gay myself.

Mammon, oh sweet sweet Mammon, is just the Greedlr, but a Fat Nickado Avocado Characters, minus the screaming and fits. And aussie. Because "oooo people with accents arre baad"

Beezlebub, is just, well a Bee, because "HAHAH FUNNI BEE-ZLEBUB" she wanted to relieve her golden years of AMVs and Animation Meme-Esque content, also so she can brush hands with Kesha-Senpai. I swear to fuck, she asskisses alot.

And I am BARELY getting started.

> Stella is a decent mom to Octavia. She doesn't have many powers and isn't summoned to Earth like Stolas is.

If she's such a great Mom, you so claim she is, Viv, then why not show and NOT FUCKING TELL. All we see of her, is the way to make the audience feel bad for a [N word, black POC here. Don't wanna say it.] that ain't shit, Doja Cat was right, he ain't shit.

This is ridiculous, this was seen with Jeffy in SML, he was a hated character, Logan tried every trick in the book to get the audience to feel bad for him (I.E. Giving him an emotional manipulative mom, losing his sister, WITNESSING HIS LITTLE SISTER GETTING MOLESTED, etc etc) but the problem with making an auidence feel bad for the character, it gives a in character excuse to let them continue being pricks without any character development.

In conclusion:

More pointless rep that will be thrown out as soon as it appears

More things to hype up, but ultimately fumble the bag

It sucks

[gloveslut]

oda died. chuuya has no idea.

babe, i'm back. ... hey, what's going on?

i'm leaving.

you're what? 'samu, did something happen?

stop fucking using that tone. or my name.

what the fuck? can you explain?

explain what?

everything?!

you knew it was only a matter of time. i don't know why you act surprised.

you don't wanna talk about it?

no.

...where to?

none of your business.

but osa- listen, you swore you wouldn't- ever-

i didn't swear shit to mafia.

...fuck no. that's not how you talk to me, you fucking piece of shit.

get off of me.

you're leaving me too! you swore shit to me!

you're nothing more than one of my mistakes.

i know you're lying, fuck, what's gotten into you?

i'm not lying, i can't bear even looking at you now.

but why? dazai, it's unfair to-

oh, and you're always fair to me? i know you're seeing someone else.

...who? tell me who told you that and i'll rip them apart, because it's fucking bullshit.

you're bullshit. all of you. it's your nature. quit playing the victim.

this is ridiculous-

and what are you gonna do about it? beg for me to stay? again? aren't you tired?

you know what? i am. because saying shit like that out of blue is too low, even for you.

i need to pack my things, get out of my-

who's blood is that? the hell is-

mine! it's mine cause i felt uneasy! stop sniffing around, you're not helping!

this doesn't look like- like- you know, there's too much of it, dazai, i don't understand-

you don't need to understand, chuuya, please, stop trying to get closer. you're not special. i'm not gonna take you with me so we can run off into the sunset.

but you can't do it completely on your own, god, are you even here with me?

i'm the one thinking critically right now. i can get killed otherwise, and i'm not gonna be alone.

...you can't just throw it at me like that. can i at least know when it started?

when what started?

well, your falling out? i guess i should've seen it coming with the way you hated introducing me to literally anyone.

i'm not here to fight about it with you.

but you accused me of cheating first thing i came in, idiot!-

i'm not- i was talking about him.

who? ...odasaku? ... fuck, i'm sorry for assuming- whatever, you do realise he's not gonna be here for you forever?

...chuuya, please.

i'm not trying to scare you off and obviously i'm not any better but-

please stop. some... people were here, but they left, and it's not so bad. it's gonna be fine and we're gonna find the best place to hide, i don't care what you think of it, we're gonna be- fine-

honey... i didn't mean to make it worse, it's o-

no it's not! you know nothing about me or my friends, i'm begging you- just- fuck off-

i know it's hard and-

don't touch me! ... god, just go away.

...so you mean it.

yes. i fucking do. now leave. you can get suicidal and stick around this burnt house as long as you want later.

...fuck you. i can't stand you anymore.

oh yeah? news to me.

yeah, cause i fucking loved you! i put everything i had eating me from inside away and stayed with you up untill this point. i made my whole life evolve around you. jesus, i even grew my hair for you!

uh-huh.

and guess what! i never fucking liked it this way. i barely got anything out of whatever we had going on. you didn't even wanna give it a name. cause i'd eat it up. and i did.

right.

fuck, dazai, can't you have a heart for a minute?

yeah no, not around someone who thinks of me as crazy, but thanks.

i don't- what the fuck are you talking about?

all the... nice treatment you gave me was always based purely on the fact that i'm fucking broken and that you should fix me. not only it's incredibly fucked up, you also just can't. you always play god here and there but you don't carry the power of one, not even close.

now, i didn't even-

chuuya, please. i'm asking kindly. i can easily get it over with, but i don't think it'd be either rational or pleasant for you.

...just like this?

yeah. just like this. if you can't accept that you're not needed, then you earn all the hostility. i'm done with all this shit. let us both finally have peace. ... that look doesn't exactly evoke peaceful feelings in me.

i... i have so much to say, to- to ask before- and there's not enough time- huh, it seems like it's never the time. i don't know if i should waste my chance, though.

i mean, if you realise how useless all of our conversations ever were...

...

woah. okay. ... one last question.

if you promise to never talk to me again, go on.

...did you- it's hard not to- ...well, i know someone died. i just have to know, are you the cause?

yes and no. unfortunately, i didn't get to kill anyone this time. but i'm also at fault. great one. i'm at hurry. so may i be excused? ... you better not show up in my life later on. not necessarily because you're so distractive, it's just the way it- it has to be. have fun around here, but be cautious. you never know where your line's gonna end. or when you're gonna lose someone. i guess it would be even more heartbreaking to you, 'normal people'.

wait, are you saying-

i thought you stopped bothering me. ...nevermind. do whatever you want.

i can't believe you're doing this to me.

please, move.

dazai- baby, i was only trying to-

now, you shut it and let me go or i'll slit your throat with this shiny thing. ... cool. oh, and... your letters or anything like that will never reach me. we have nothing to discuss. nothing that is worth the effort. i also think you said everything you wanted to. ...thank you- for, uh, not whining too much. see you in hell.

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Jason: Kill him. Batman: No. Jason: Kill him. Batman: No. Jason: Kill him! Batman: No! Joker: Can I kill myself to escape this nightmare of awkward father son tension? Jason and Batman: Shut up! Jason: Ignore me, like you did when I died, what about the countless lives he’s taken, what about Barb, what about the shit he’s put all of us through for some sick joke? And if you didn’t want to do it because of those reasons, what about me? I wanted to ignore this but he took me away from you! Why not vindicate me? I thought I was your son! Joker: Guess you weren’t that close. Jason snacks Joker with the crowbar a fifth time. Jason: Shut. The. Fuck. Up! Back to you, when I saw the bomb tick down, I accepted it. I accepted my death... I thought when I died, you'd kill him. Then I wake up and he's still alive. Why? Batman: I’ve contemplated torturing Joker in a private area. Make him feel pain from every nerve in his body, make it so that when I finally killed him I savor the light leaving his… eyes. But I don’t want to go to that dark place because that won’t fix crime. Jason: Stop joking. Batman: I'm not. Jason: You have to be. Batman: When have I ever joked with you in this suit?

Jason: It's not too late, because you can't be serious. It literally would fix one thing.. Him! Joker: Can you tell me what type of torture methods you’d perform on me? I might need to use those later. Jason points to Joker with his gun. Batman: If I kill I would never go back. I would kill the next one like him. Jason: Then fucking do that! You can't be arrested. You are friends with commissioner Gordon, who by the way, Joker shot his fucking daughter. You shot his daughter right? Joker: Yeah. Jason: Okay, so should I shoot him or do you want to? Batman: Joker would have to do something insanely unforgivable to make me kill him. Jason: ...He tricked my mom into handing me over and killed me. Horribly tortured me. Just want you to know I was legally dead for a time. Batman: That's different. Jason: Different how? Batman: You're here now.

Jason looks around. Jason: Am I on a hidden camera show? Because you did not say that as a defense. You can't be serious! Batman: It’s not right! Jason: Why? Go ahead tell me, why is it wrong to kill him and for me to kill irredeemable criminals. I'll wait, I have the detonator. Batman: Because when my parents died, I learned all life is valuable. Jason: Joseph Stalin. Batman: Okay, I - Jason: Charles Manson. Batman: Hold on, now he was- Jason: Jim Jones. Batman: Well they volunteered. Jason: Adolf Hitler, the Nazi soldiers who knowingly participated in the extermination of Jews and the ones who escaped to Brazil. Joker: I know I'm the one possibly dying, but he brought up a couple good examples. Batman: No, wait, because that's not the same. Joker is not the same as them. Jason: Okay, I will cancel out the world dictators and Manson. I'll do that... Jeffrey Dahmer, Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Wade Wilson! Batman: ... Jason: And again him torturing and killing your son isn't the line?

Batman: I told you not to fall for your mother's tricks. Jason: Are you resorting to gas lighting? While I have a bomb? We're doing that?! Batman: All I'm saying is when you got brought back you killed left and right. Jason: Yes, rapists and murderers. I don't kill shoplifters. Batman: Hypocrite. Jason: A shoplifter has a reason and doesn't go about killing someone. What rapists have you met that had a reason? Because rapists aren't redeemable, they're free game. Batman: Okay, last I checked murder is wrong! Jason: Yeah, it is! Jason points his gun Joker. Batman: ...A criminal is a criminal. I treat them all the same. Jason: Let's talk about Selina Kyle. Batman: Let's not do this. Jason: She gets a pass when she's attacked people to escape. If a criminal is a criminal then why isn't she in prison? Because she meows at you? Because you unironically like when she hits you with a whip? Because she talks in a fake sultry voice? I want to know why does she get a pass? Why Black Mask walks? Joker walks? Mr. Freeze walks? Tick tock detective. Batman: ... Jason: It bothers you, doesn't it? That I'm doing a better job at you? That I'm taking on businesses of the crime ridden area because I can admit that crime will never stop? That I kill murderers and rapists? Batman: It doesn't bother me... I just don't want you to do this. Jason: I'm not asking you to kill Selina or Riddler or Mr. Freeze. I want you to kill him. I'm not even mad at you for not stopping my death, I forgive you on that, but for the love of God, kill him! Please. I am begging you! Do you see this? I am begging you! Batman: I can't. I'm sorry. Jason: Okay you have two options. I kill Joker or... You kill me. Jason tosses Batman a gun that the man catches with ease. Batman: I regret the day I let you into my life... Not because of your fault, but my own. I gave you a good life with the life of a hero. So I won't kill him. I'm sorry. Jason: Hm... I guess you'll watch me kill him. This is great, I always wanted this moment with us. Jason grabs Joker and aims the gun at the cackling psychos head. Jason: I’m going to enjoy this! Batman: Dodge! Jason: What? Batman tosses a batarang at Jason’s neck, impaling it in the man's neck. Jason drops the gun and Joker in shock and pain as blood splurts out of his neck wound. Jason: You threw a batarang… at ME?! Batman: Oh shit, shit, shit! You were supposed to dodge! Jason: You pulled a Piccolo on me!? Batman: I thought you would dodge. I shouted dodge! Jason: You thought I would read your damn mind, toss Joker aside, dodge and then not shoot him. Batman stays silent. Jason and Joker: Oh my God you did. GREAT, NOW I'M AGREEING WITH HIM! Jason yanks the Batarang out of his neck. He looks at the Batarang, silent and shaking. Jason: You know... maybe in a few years we can laugh about this, but for...I'm sorry too. Jason presses the detonator managing to escape along with Batman. Joker is crushed by the debris of the buildings, but alive.

[jewish-vents]

Please give me advice. I need help. October 7th and beyond has ruined my mental health.

I'm an Asian Jew and I couldn't be happy watching the Emmys. For those who don't know, Shogun made so much history. I want to be happy. I really do. It's HUGE.

I can't be happy. I'm aware of the tension. Two amazing Jews hosted but I felt it. I'm suddenly aware of everything. I'm immediately looking for the Jews. I'm aware that a lot of the people in that room are antisemitic. My anxiety and stress are off the charts.

I'm happy for the diversity and yet all I can think about is how things like diversity don't include Jews or think about us. I'm too aware of how invisible we are. And yet when we're visible it's too dangerous for us so we can never win. October 7th cemented the fact that these things like diversity aren't genuinely cared about. Because how can you claim to want diversity and equality and rights for minorites and hate Jews? Can someone explain?

An actor pointed out how diverse the Emmys are now. I feel nothing. The Covid pandemic brought a trend where everyone wants to fight oppression and support the oppressed. It was that same trend that has come to hurt us in every way. Everything feels fake to me now. This diversity can't mean anything to me when Jews are constantly being harassed, targetted, killed and hurt and these so called activists cheer.

How am I supposed to feel when the crowd that says "stop calling rape victims and women liars" don't believe Jewish women were raped on October 7th? In the eyes of activists, the people who are supposed to care about human rights and support diversity, we are liars who lie about everything especially rape and antisemitism.

I will slowly accept the fact that yes diversity is happening regardless of everything else and yes even the littlest change is still change and progress is always slow and painful. But I don't think I can ever accept how diversity excludes us. How social justice excluses us. How the left excludes us. How the world excludes us. I won't ever accept it.

To anon and everybody else struggling with their mental health:

We previously posted some mental health resources here. While therapy and psychiatric medication may not be accessible to everyone who needs them because of financial concerns, the support groups mentioned in the post are free, virtual, and available both to Jews and to people who are close enough to the Jewish community to be affected by the current situation.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.2. the first time quinn invited you over

➴ warnings: mention of a restrictive diet, almond mom kinda?

➴ word count: 1.1k

➴ author’s note: i am a mushroom hater till the day i die. fuck mushrooms.

౨ৎ

2013, OCTOBER.

THE first time Quinn invited you over, it was on a Sunday morning.

Your parents were at work, as they always were, and you were trying to make some food for yourself and Peter, who was currently laying on his bed and playing video-games.

It wasn’t like you were used to cooking, after all, you were just eleven and you had so many sitters growing up that you didn’t have to do much. But you’d manage to convince your parents that you didn’t need an old, ugly lady taking care of you anymore— you knew how to take care of yourself. And it was true, until you had to cook something that wasn’t microwaved popcorn.

It was ten a.m. and the doorbell rang, the song ricocheting through the empty house. You immediately looked at the digital clock sitting on the kitchen counter, frowning because you knew your parents wouldn’t be home until some time after six.

Carefully, you got off the chair you were on top of trying to reach the pancakes mix, and walked towards the door. Looking at the camera (because you knew how to take care of yourself and because you should never open the door to strangers!) you saw Quinn there, with his hands in his pockets.

You smiled, opening the door.

Your friendship with Quinn bloomed just like flowers did during the first week of spring. He was nice to you, listened to all of your questions and thoughts, and was kind enough to explain things you didn’t really understand (he seemed to know everything). He didn’t let you paint his nails, something about his brothers, Luke and Jack, making fun of him for it, but he always let you play with his curls.

He played with you for hours and to your ultimate surprise, he never complained. Not even once. And he was much better at throwing the ball than Peter ever was.

“Hi, Quinny!” You greeted him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He patted you on the head awkwardly, like he always did. “Why are you here?”

“I just made breakfast for Jack and Luke,” he mumbled. “And you told me once you like pancakes. So do you wanna go eat some?”

You were so happy in that moment that it felt like Christmas all over again. Thinking of your empty stomach, you nodded.

“Only if there’s enough for everyone and,” you bit your lip, suddenly embarrassed. “Can I bring some for Pete too? I didn’t cook him breakfast.”

Quinn frowned at you, like he sometimes did whenever you mentioned Peter. “Why are you cooking? Isn’t it dangerous for a kid to be in the kitchen?”

“I’m eleven. ‘M not a kid anymore.”

“Sure,” he laughed, nodding. “Come on.”

You both left your house and you closed the door behind you, as you followed Quinn to his house, yapping his ears off. You were excited about a new cooking show you’d been watching and you needed to tell someone how the guy in there had baked the prettiest cake you’d ever seen.

Opening the door, Quinn let you in first before entering the house himself. You looked around, noticing how different his house was from yours: simpler, but so much brighter. There were family pics everywhere, the sight momentarily overwhelming you. A huge living room to your right, and an even bigger kitchen to your left.

Sitting on the couch, you could see two other boys, who looked a lot like Quinn.

“Those are Jack and Luke,” Quinn explained, grabbing the boys’ attention. “Lukey is ten and Jack is twelve. Come say hi.”

He grabbed your hand and dragged you towards them, as you shyly hid your body behind his. You were naturally shy, not a fan of attention on you, which was exactly what you were getting, with both Jack and Luke’s bright eyes on you.

“Is this Madison?” Jack asked, pointing at you.

“Yes, actually,” Quinn said, getting out of the way so you could see them. “She’s having breakfast with us today.”

“Does she like chocolate chips on her pancakes?” Luke asked, looking very serious. You didn’t know much but it felt like that question was going to determine his entire opinion about you. And you understood him, that’s how you feel about people who put mushrooms on their pizzas. You hated them.

“I don’t know,” Quinn looked at you and smiled. “Do you like chocolate chips, Maddie?”

Maddie. Quinn would sometimes call you that, and it made your heart flutter. It felt nice to know that someone liked you enough to give you a nickname.

“Mom doesn’t let me eat chocolate,” you mumbled, looking at your hands, still intertwined with Quinn’s. “She says it will make me fat.”

“What’s the problem with that?” One of them, probably Jack, asked and you furrowed your eyebrow.

“Mom says people won’t like me if I’m fat.” You shrugged, repeating the thing you’ve heard your entire life.

Luke stood on the couch, jumping around. “That’s b-bullshit!”

“Luke!” Quinn yelled, making the boy stop jumping and sit back on the couch, head down. “We don’t say that word.”

“Sorry.” He pouted and you wanted to squeeze his cheeks.

“It’s fine if you eat chocolate once in a while, and people shouldn’t like you just because of your looks,” Quinn whispered, poking your forehead. “Do you want to?”

You thought about it for a long time, staring at Quinn’s gentle, kind eyes for a while before saying yes. Yeah. You did want chocolate.

So he cooked more pancakes for you, making sure to put chocolate chips in all of them, while you sat between Jack and Luke on the couch, watching as they watched some kind of weird cartoon and talked your ears off, acting like they’ve known you for years.

Maybe that’s why Quinn never complained about your yapping sessions; Jack and Luke were the Kings of Yapland themselves.

“Here you go.” He placed a big plate in front of you, with at least five huge pancakes on it.

“Thank you,” you said, quietly, as you cut a piece and ate it.

You closed your eyes, sighing, and enjoying the sweet taste on your mouth, licking your lips right after that. Holy cow. Not wanting to waste any time, you dived into the world of chocolate chip pancakes and ate all five of them, not even stopping to breathe.

When you finished the last bite, you put your fork down and sat back on the couch, patting your belly, not even caring about the lady manners your Mom loved to remind you of.

Only then you realized that all of them were staring at you.

“Hum,” you started, feeling your cheeks burn. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Quinn said, giving you a smile. “We’re just happy you liked them. I can make more if you want.”

“No, I’m full,” you mumbled. “Thanks.”

And just like that, Luke, Quinn and Jack resumed their conversation about Hockey and games. You didn’t understand a thing, but it was funny to watch Jack trying to prove a point while his brother shouted over his words and Quinn asked them to be quiet.

That day you felt welcomed by them. Jack, Quinn and Luke made you feel wanted, in their own little weird way.

It felt nice.

[sreidlvewrites]

💌Close to you🗝️

This was inspired by Two songs .

🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️

🖇️There’s To much Smoke🗝️

A/N 🖇️This is going to be , my favorite yet I’m enjoying writing this 🗝️ See I have a few ideas , but this one came first 🖇️ it came to me at work- an had to start my outline right away , 🗝️ I hope you enjoy this , I never know what to put here but thank you for taking the time to read my writing I have fun with it , isn’t that what it’s about having fun with your writing, your style of writing is always gonna be different from someone else writing that what’s makes us unique, 🗝️. 💌 : I adore all my angel writers all my favorite Spence writer’s , chef’s kiss .

Thank you for being here . I see you .

I wanted to write more for this cause this such a beautiful piece I think .

🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️

🖇️There’s to much smoke💌

Paring: Soft Side of Spencer Reid x FemBAUx!Reader

Warning: hurt comfort fluff , blurb

Word count : 1.8k

Summary: Spencer gets caught in an awkward situation with his Stalker.

💌There’s to much smoke💌

🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️

Spencer hasn’t seen you in your FBI Jacket for little over two weeks, today you show up in your FBI Jacket, he can’t keep his eyes off you , See Spencer always thought you looked nice with whatever you wear but your fbi jacket in vest was his favorite Hotch in JJ reached out to you about Spencer’s Crazy Stalker,,

💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🖇️🗝️💌🖇️💌🗝️🖇️

You come in ready to bring her back in to the precinct

.. she’s is the— “unsub”

Good Morning Spencer says Not now , —Spence you say , He’s confused about your reaction to his Good Morning to you ,

You've been up reading Kats file all night , — So you know what you are prepared for , this is what you were made for you say to be ready in any situation that comes to you right now— it seems to be Spencer’s crazy stalker trying to invade — The team hasn’t really informed Spencer yet , that she escaped —The “precinct” , She requested to see Spencer an you weren’t about to let that happen, not after last time , No you in him were not dating not yet any ways , but you cared for him in the kiss he gave you on your sixth month anniversary fbi surprise party , has to mean something you thought to yourself so No she can not Request him , “Reid can you come in here Hotch says , the rest of the team follows behind , —

So here's the thing you say , JJ holds your shoulder while you tell Spencer his Crazy Stalker has escape the precinct ,

We’re not sure how it happened Derek applied , — You can see Spence getting all tensed up ,— Am I the only one who didn’t know about this he asks , looking at you for an Answer ,

JJ it’s not her fault , then why does it feel like she is the one who found out first, She was but it’s because Spencer walks out the room , As Hotch in JJ follows him it’s cause I told y/n her I called her last night to inform y/n what was going on in , You couldn’t tell me JJ ???.. Spence no , don’t JJ let him go, Hotch says .

Derek what do we know about Kat? Well, we know She’s got this crazy obsession with Spence. You say , Ya an what else , Spencer comes back in she won’t stop till she gets what she wants , she wants to make my life miserable, You look over at Spencer by now he’s really close to you , you can tell he’s nervous not cause he’s standing by you but because of Kat , I don’t want you near her , he whispers , Spence this is my Job , no not this you can’t ,

You look at him, you grab his hand while Hotch is talking , Spencer doesn’t pull away , — Derek calls Garica hey baby girl, what you need love , — can you try find the latest location of Kat , Spencer’s Stalker, She’s back her voice starts to shack little , ya I’ll see what I can find , — I’ll get back to you shortly , Derek hangs up .

Phone rings , Hotch get Garica back on the phone now ,

Y/n answers the Phone Hi this is agent, y/n I know who you are Kat says Sweetheart , I keep track of who comes in goes in spencys life you look back at him , Put him on the phone, Beautiful she says , No you say come on Now Play Nice Kat says , you roll your eyes

Spencer is by you , Hey he says it’s me Dr Reid , Hey Spency long time right , look you need to meet me Alone tonight ,

Or your little beautiful Angel you got next to you gets hurt ,

Hell No , Now Now Spency that ant the way we talk to each other, — You know where to meet me , 8:30pm no sooner no later , She hangs up - S-O-N of a bitch , Reid says throwing books across the room everyone is so Quiet in nervous,

How she know y/n was standing by me Spencer says , you get the location Garica, ya it Came inside the building you look around How Derek says ,

Y/s “You’re Not going anywhere Spencer

We’re bringing her in tonight, — look Spencer says I’m going end of story , you don’t know how she made my life a living hell before you got here ,

Spence you put your hand on his shoulder I read the file Mave ,

He pulls away , walks away — He’ll come around kido Em says

I doubt that , not till we fully put here away you say , in I’m not sure how long that’s gonna take , I—I really don’t want to lose him you say , are we dating together, No but that’s what Kat thinks you to are together Em Says ,

I’m sorry JJ says it’s ok , JJ you say , with a worried sad look on your face , they walk out you grab your bag , Hotch pulls you aside , — Hey none of this is your fault ok he says none of it , then who else is the blame let me be the blame Hotch ,

She’s a psychotic person who needs to be put away as tears roll down your face and she wants Spence where do you see this going you ask , Hotch — Hotch hugs you , I’m sorry he says in at 8:30 she will have him , cause I know him , — I don’t know what to do , this my job I’m supposed to protect the people I love an care about , I can’t let him go alone , an we won’t Hotch says ,

We gotta plan ok , You look up at Hotch ok .

💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️

You can’t find Spencer anywhere,

Derek, have you seen Spence you ask , No not lately . Maybe he went to get some fresh air, Garica said .

Hmm ok you say looking at your watch it’s only 6:45pm .

6:45pm

💭💌 From: Beautiful angel

🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️

Hey Spence , You Okay?

Where are you ?

💌🗝️💌🖇️💌🗝️💌🖇️🗝️💌🖇️🗝️💌

Delivered not read ..

🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️

Did you hear anything back JJ asks ,

You look at your phone , Not yet , how did you know I texted him his phone was laying on his Desk,

——(“ HOTCH YOU YELL ) .

It’s only 6:50pm what is he doing , Derek —- he might not be doing Anything , oh come one Derek you know Damn well he went on his own you say , did anyone check the lobby Hotch asked Or breakroom,

Or the Gun range Spencer says coming in , Spence you scared me you say — Sorry everyone, next time let us know your leaving Hotch says ok Spencer says , Can we Talk you ask Spencer, sure he puts his bag down , walks with you to a room that’s empty , he shuts the door behind ,—— Spence you say softly I-i can’t lose you tonight , lose me ? I’m not yours to lose am I he ask softly , I-i know you say with your head down in you feel hugh lump In your chest, I care about you a lot Spencer he pulls you up on the counter I know he whispers, I wanna be yours Spence , you say softly , but I know nothing can happen right now, I just needed to be close to you I needed to feel, This he pulls you in and wraps his arms around you , as you start to cry on his shoulders, I know he says , —- I care about you to he says I’m sorry I got upset earlier I just can’t lose you neither we haven’t had much time for us to be an us yet , he says ..

what time is it you ask Spence — 7:45pm … Do you know the spot she wants you to meet her at ? Ya I think so , I’m not ready to go back there he says , is it where mave was —— you ask ,

Ya he says with his voice a little shaky sorry Spence I didn’t it’s ok he says … please one thing , ya he says , softly promise me this when we catch her , — you take me on a date you say ?

Really Spence says —- Yes you say , Ok you got it he says it’s a date . I needed to be close to you Spence ,I know your little skeptic about touchy feely, and you don’t normally give hugs but I needed this I felt safe , —- Me too he says me too .. — I couldn’t get our first kiss outta my head Spencer says , the way your lips were on mine , you bit your lower lip you know that gets to Spencer , he pulls you in,— is this ok if I kiss you , he asks politely, yes you say —-Spence …. You biting your lip gets to me he says to you . — A Knock at the Door—It’s Derek , come on lovebirds, we got a crazy stalker to catch , you both giggle, Spence you say please be safe I will he says , as JJ in Morgan help Spence get suited up , You Hotch in Em head to the cars , You ok they ask politely, ya I’m ok you answer back , but your feeling little anxious,

It’s now 8:20pm — Ok so listen up Reid is on the other end , Hotch says , she doesn’t know we’re close by , let’s hope not you say , you guys are at the place we’re Kat wants Reid to meet her

JJ in Derek are waiting for Spencer’s cue , in that’s when we will bring her in , Derek guys I think she’s here , you guys get out of the car ,

It’s now 8:28pm —- , She’s walking ,she’s tall beautiful your thinking to yourself , your short in mid average , your thoughts are all over the place , 8:30pm Spence is waiting for her , Hey Spency she says , —- She goes up to rub her hand across his chest how are you , Love — I’m not your love oh I know Spency just humor me for minute . So where’s your little angel? She asks you ,stop , — she’s not here you wanted me to come alone, oh Spency I know you didn’t listen to me , Where is she , it’s just the two of us , liked you ask , poor Spency always alone , you are now behind her , Spence stays Quiet, Remember the last time Spence she says , — You grab her in pin her down remember this bitch you say , — you're under arrest anything you say can and will be held against you a court of law , you may have a lawyer present if you do not have a lawyer one will be provided for you do you understand stand , oh yes Angel I understand I’ve done this before… you Hand her over to Derek you run to Spencer he holds his arms out for you … I-I love you , it’s ok you don’t need to say it back Spence ..

[lovelyjj]

Treasure

jj maybank x reader

requested by @thornyrose463

Being at your house was miserable. Your mom only seemed to care about her boyfriends and not you or your wellbeing. You hated being there because she was neglectful and an alcoholic. And it’s not like your dad was around, he left when you were 2. You only came to grab a few clothing items.

“Bye mom, have fun with your loser boyfriend, not that you care where I am,” you shouted as you walked out of your house carrying your clothes.

Arriving at John Bs you were happy to get away from your mom and be reunited with your friends who were more like family.

“Hey Y/N/N, we’re going out on the boat today to explore the reck.”

John B borrowed scuba gear from his boss Ward so that he can dive and explore the ship reck.

“Sounds good.”

You, Pope, Kie, JJ, and John B all got on the HMS pogue. Then you all drove into the marsh. You all were excited to find something in the wreck.

“This is empty. You took empty tanks?” Kiara said.

“I-“

“Okay, this one’s a quarter full. It’s enough for one of us,” Kiara stated.

“Love it when a plan comes together,” Pope chimed in.

“Does anybody know how to dive?” Kiara asked.

“Anybody?”

“It’s kinda a kook sport,” JJ commented.

“No I don’t,” you spoke.

“I read about it,” Pope argued.

“Great, Pope read about it, so someone’s gonna die.” Kiara spit out.

“Look, y-you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?” JJ questioned.

“Well if you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends.” Pope explained.

“Bends like, bend over and…” JJ joked.

“The bends kill you,” Pope deadpanned.

“Right.”

“I can- I can dive.” John B volunteered.

“Yeah you can dive. I’m cool with that.” JJ confirmed.

“Since when can you dive?” Kiara asked.

“I’ll do it. It’s fine.”

“John B,” you were concerned.

“Y/N, it’s fine don’t worry i’m good.”

“Be careful,” you warned.

John B nodded and put on the gear to dive. He jumped into the water and was ready to swim down to the wreck. You were worried for your friend who was practically your brother.

While John B was down there you all above water herd a siren.

“Shit. JJ.” Pope yelled.

“Guys, that’s the police.” JJ pointed out.

“Oh my god,” you huffed.

“Oh, you got to be kidding me.”

“Yep, that’s the police.”

“Just act frickin’ normal,” Kiara instructed.

The police officers boat came up to the HMS pogue.

“Evening officers,” Pope greeted.

“Evening.”

“How you kids doing? You know the marsh is closed?” Shoupe said.

“No.”

“No. Wow.”

“I didn’t know that.” JJ lied.

“Why— why is it closed?” Pope asked.

“Well, we’re conducting a search out here. Boat went down.”

“Oh.”

“Seen anything?”

“No.”

“No boats. No.”

“Where’s your friend you always hang with? He here?” The police man asked.

“He’s working,” you answered.

“I’m gonna check your little boat out.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, hop aboard.”

“You wanna check— uh, check her out.” Pope invited.

“Thank you.”

Shoupe checked out your boat and made sure you had life jackets. He looked out into the open water for what felt like forever. Finally he said, “all right.”

“All right.”

“Beautiful day isn’t it.”

“Sure is.” JJ replied.

“Let us know if you see anything on your way out.”

“Will do,” you responded.

“We will be gone soon sir.”

“Yes you will.”

All four of you knew that John B had to of ran out of air by now. So as soon as the police were gone you leaned over the boat and looked out into the water searching for John B.

“There he is!”

“Oh god! Jesus Christ!”

John B emerged from the water and you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding.

“How’d it go down there? Did you find anything?” JJ asked.

“Did i find anything?”

John B climbed the later and hoisted the duffel bag he found onto the boat.

“Yeah, there we go! That’s my boy!”

“You okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, I ran out of air.”

“You scared the shit out of me.” You chuckled.

“Hey, guys? Guys, bogey, two o’clock.” Kiara warned.

“What?”

“Do you recognize that boat?”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“What are they doing back here the marsh is closed.” Kiara pointed out.

“I don’t know but let’s not stick around to find out,” JJ told everyone.

A boat with two men on it started coming your way. They started following you. Before you knew it they started shooting at you.

“Y/N get down!” JJ yelled.

JJ came up behind you and covered you with his body. Everyone crouched down and John B drove the boat as fast as he could from the floor of the boat.

“Oh my god we’re going to die,” Pope yelled covering his head.

Kiara got up and threw a fishing net into the water behind the HMS pogue. The net stopped the guys that were shooting at you because it got tangled in the gears. You all got away without being shot.

“Oh my god we’re alive,” you exclaimed.

“Pogue life man!” JJ yelled.

“That was insane,” Kiara added.

John B drove the boat back to the chateau. You all got out and stood on the dock. John B put the duffel bag on the floor and started opening it.

“What do you think it is?” Kiara asked.

“It’s got to be money or something right,” John B replied.

“Can we just open the bag already?” Pope said impatiently.

“Wow, Pope, that’s a rare outburst of emotion,” John B said.

“Okay. You guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Just open the bag, we almost died over this,” Pope ordered.

John B pulls out a metal tube and unscrews it. Then he dumps it out into his hand. It’s a gold compass.

“Oh, wow. Yup. That’s about right. Good job, everybody. We found a compass.” Pope said sarcastically.

John B was gaping at the compass. “Dude, what? It’s not worth anything,” JJ commented.

“This was my father’s,” John B whispered.

“No way,” you said surprised.

Nine months ago John Bs dad, Big John went missing. Some believe he got lost at sea. John B was in denial. He just knew his dad was out there somewhere, or so he desperately wanted to believe.

The next day John B remembered his dads office and went to go unlock it. You and the other pogues followed him confused.

John B grabbed a poster board and put it on top of a bin. “Here, look. This is the original owner, right here.” He pointed to a picture of an older man.

John B explained how the compass was passed down to many generations but they all ended up dying soon after they received the compass.

“Look, my dad used to talk about this compartment in here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes.”

“What’s that?” you asked.

“That wasn’t there before. This is my dad’s handwriting.”

“How can you know that?” Pope voiced his opinion.

“Because he does these weird Rs with the— see it?”

“Can I see it?” JJ asked.

“Red— Rout—“ JJ tried to sound it out.

“It says Redfield.” Kiara spoke.

“Right.”

“Okay well what’s Redfield?” You thought out loud.

“Beside the most common name in the county.” Pope deadpanned.

“Maybe it’s a clue. Maybe it’s a clue to where he’s hiding,” John B thought.

The same guys that chased you through the marsh showed up at the château. They took John Bs dads research.

After having a run in with the police twice John B was fed up. He took the family tree poster along with his other crap and set it on fire. After a moment he changed his mind and fished it out with a metal rod. Then he saw the name Olivia and he got an idea.

John B rounded up the gang and took you to the graveyard.

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song and can’t remember who sings it?” John B started.

“Yeah,” Kiara replied.

“So, Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place, right? But it’s not a place. It’s a person.”

“Voi-effing-là.” JJ hummed.

“See, my great-great-grandmother Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.”

The guys all tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge.

“I can get through,” you stated.

“Y/N, no don’t do it,” JJ voiced his concern.

JJ was very protective of you. You and JJ have been dating for a long while now. JJ wouldn’t know what to do without you. He loved you like hell. He’d be lost without you. So if he lost you he would break. That’s why he did want you to do anything dangerous.

“Look this is about your dad, you deserve to know the truth. I’ll do it.” You expressed.

“Y/N.”

“JJ, i’ll be careful i promise.”

“Fine. I’m gonna boost you.”

“Remind me what we’re looking for,” You asked.

“You’ll know when you see it,” John B told you.

You stepped in JJ’s hands and he boosted you up and through the hole. You looked around and then you saw something. You picked up what looked like an envelope that said “For Bird.” You handed it to John B.

When you all got back to the château, John B opened the big envelope. Inside there was a map to the Royal Merchant, along with a tape recorder. John B played it.

“If somethin’ happens to me, finish what I started.” Big Johns voice rang through your ears.

John B was sobbing at the end of the recording so you did your best to comfort him. You squeezed him in a hug and told him you were sorry.

After looking up the coordinates on the map JJ had the idea of stealing a drone that can drop 1,000 feet from the salvage yard. You and the other pogues were successful in stealing the drone.

Once it was the right weather you all went out on Popes dads boat. You dropped the drone into the water as Kiara marked the feet as it was going down. When the drone reached the merchant reck there was no gold. Everyone was devastated.

——————

John B was running from DCS when he fell off his bike and tripped over a chain. Sarah Cameron found him and saw his scrap on his stomach. Sarah took him to her house at tannyhill.

As she’s is cleaning his wound, he asks, “Who, uh… who’s the dude on the wall?”

“Oh, it’s Denmark Tanny, founder of Tannyhill.” Sarah says.

“Founder?”

“Mm-hm.”

“So, how did a slave found a cotton plantation?”

“He was a free man. He’s kind of a mystery. He showed up out of nowhere and paid for all of the land around here in gold.” Sarah explained.

“In gold?”

“Mm-hm.”

John B stood up. “Hey, wh— i’m not finished, Sancho.” Sarah scolded.

“Denmark Tanny. I— I recognize that name. He—he was on the Royal Merchant. But there was no survivors. Hey what else do you know about this guy?”

“Uh when we first moved in, we found a diary, an almanac, a bunch of papers. Ward donated all of it to the state archives at Chapel Hill.”

“Can I go see that?”

“See what?” Sarah questioned.

“The— the archives. I need— I need to see them.”

“I mean, I can get you in if you want. He’s got a trustee pass.” Sarah told John B.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I need that.”

“To Chapel Hill?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“Why now?”

“I… I can’t tell you that.” John B hid the truth.

“More fugitive stuff?”

“Uh… fugitive adjacent, sort of. It’s, um… it’s a matter of national security.”

“I’ve just waited my entire life for someone to say that to me,” Sarah smiled.

“Look— God. I know this sounds crazy, but I really need to borrow that pass. The less you know, the better. Okay? You’ve just— you’ve gotta trust me.”

“No. I don’t trust anyone. Especially not with a trustee pass.”

“I need to go now.”

“Okay, then I’m coming with you.”

“No.”

“Yes. One last mission, and then I’m out of this dirty, dirty game. Come on. Let’s go.”

Sarah and John B arrived at the archives after they changed first. They ended up finding a letter written in Gullah. Denmark Tannys last correspondence. They couldn’t translate it.

John B remembered his history lesson and figured his teacher could translate it.

“Harvest the wheat near the water in parcel nine forthwith.”

The was a little symbol at the bottom of the letter and John B realized that wheat meant gold.

John B got a map from Sarah that somewhat showed where parcel nine was. You were looking for a stone wall. Parcel nine ended up to be the old Crain house.

“I heard that Mrs. Crain buried her husband’s head on the property.” JJ told everyone.

“JJ!” you scolded.

“Look, you guys know whose house this is, right?” Kiara asked.

“Oh, yeah. No, I do.” JJ responded.

“Honestly, I don’t really believe the stories of this place.” John B spoke.

“Which stories did you hear?” JJ asked Kiara.

“The one where she killed her husband with an axe, and that she’s been holed up ever since. On certain nights, when the moon is full… you can see her in the window.”

“No, it’s not funny, ‘cause it’s all true.” JJ said seriously.

“I swear to God, guys, this is all real. I knew Hollis.”

“Wait, you knew Hollis Crain?” Pope questioned.

“Yeah, dude.”

“Dude, how do you know Hollis Crain?”

“I remember you told me this, she was your babysitter” you spoke to JJ.

“Yeah she was,” JJ confirmed.

“She told me all about it. Told me the truth… about her mother and what happened in this house.” JJ continued.

“So as a kid, she heard all the stories that her mother killed her father, and… she was a murderer and all. Hollis didn’t believe it. Until that night.”

“What night?” John B asked.

“It all came back to her. When Hollis was six years old, she heard her parents arguing downstairs. So she goes downstairs to see her mom washing her hands in a sink… full of blood. Her mother just says that she cut her finger.”

“The next morning, she says her father and her split up. But then, Hollis noticed something. Her mother going into the parlor constantly, in and out and in and out with plastic bags. Weeks pass, and Hollis decides to use the outhouse.”

“And as she’s using it, she looks down, and there, in the outhouse, is her father’s head, looking straight back at her.”

“God, you are so full of shit” John B insulted

“Dude, I swear to god, man.”

“Did she call the police?” Pope asked.

“She didn’t have time.

John B started walking towards the house.

“Wait! Dude!” JJ yelled.

“What?”

“You sure you wanna do this? She’s an axe murderer. You got a cast on.” JJ warned.

“I don’t give a shit if she’s an axe murderer, okay?”

“John B,” you cried.

“What Y/N?”

“I got nothin’ to lose, right? You comin’ or what?”

“Come on,” Kie said.

“So here’s the plan. We need to look for the wheat near the water like it said in Denmark’s letter.” John B told the group.

“Okay, like, what kind of water? Like, pond water?” Pope asked.

“Bong water?” JJ laughed.

“No. It— it just said look for water, okay?” John B said.

“That’s the shittiest secret message ever.” Kiara spoke.

“Come on guys we can do this,” you encouraged.

“You wanna complain a little more, Kie? Nobody said it was gonna be easy.”

John B went through a wooden small door and called everyone to come look with him. It was the basement. There was a bunch of mosquitoes and Pope knew there must be water near. You all found a well with water under the floor boards.

A couple days later you all went back at night time. This time with Sarah.

“Let’s go get rich, guys.” JJ insisted.

“Yeah, hell yeah.” Kiara replied.

“Let’s go,” you said excitedly.

“Wait wait wait.”

“I wanna say thank you, guys. Seriously. It means a lot to me that you’re here tonight.” John B expressed.

“Always,” Kiara replied.

“Of course, man.” Pope responded.

“I will always be there for you John B,” you shared.

“All right, we done with this circle jerk? Can we go do this?” JJ asked.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get that wheat in the water,” Pope muttered.

“Weed? I’m up for weed.” JJ got excited.

“Wheat. I said wheat.”

The six of you hopped the fence. You started walking towards the house and then the overhead lights turned on.

“Shit shit.”

“Flashlights.”

“Shhhh.”

“Okay, so she has motion sensor lights,” Pope observed.

“We could, uh… move really slowly, maybe?” JJ thought out loud.

“That’s not a good idea JJ,” you confessed.

“That’s not how it works,” Pope responded.

“Oh, shit. let’s throw a rock at it,” John B shared.

“What?”

“That’s a really good idea. Let the axe murderer know that we’re here.” Kiara said sarcastically.

“Throw a rock at it?” Pope repeated.

“You have a better idea?”

“Literally anything but that.” Kiara stated.

“What about the breaker? In the circuit box on the porch. We used to play hide-and-seek here as kids. And if we were brave enough, we’d go all the way up to the porch. I’ve seen it,” Sarah shared.

“No, no. You’re not going in the house alone,” John B said concerned.

“Watch me.”

“I’ll go with her,” you jumped in.

“Okay, come on.”

“Crain chops people into pieces,” JJ added.

“JJ!” you yelled.

“If you believe that, but she’s like what, 85?” Sarah whispered.

“Yeah, something like that.” JJ responded.

“She’s probably barely still kicking.”

“I’ll go with you too,” Kiara spoke.

“Yeah.”

“We will wait for your signal.” Pope began.

“Okay, cool.”

“Hey! Be safe.” John B told Sarah.

“Y/N, be careful!” JJ told you.

“We will.”

The three of you walked up to the porch.

“She must have a generator plugged into the main power supply,” you hissed in a whisper.

You got closer to the door.

“Shhhh.”

You found the box and Kiara opened it.

“Where are the breakers?” Sarah asked.

“What is this?” Kie asked.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

“Shit.”

“It goes inside.”

Carefully the three of you went inside. There you found the breaker box and flipped the switches which turned off the motion censor lights.

“They did it. Go time.” John B whispered.

“So, let’s do it.” Pope responded.

The boys went to the basement and started lowering John B down the well. JJ and Pope accidentally dropped John B while trying to situate the rope.

John B yelled, “I told you not to drop me,” which woke up the crazy axe murderer.

John B was scrambling to get out because he saw part of a skull when he stumbled on a secret tunnel. The tunnel was full of gold bars. John B was shocked.

You, Kie, and Sarah came down to the basement and explained that Mrs. Crain is trying to kill you. Everyone needed to pull up John B.

Mrs. Crain chased everyone out with a shot gun. John B got some gold bars and climbed out of the well. Everyone got to the car really fast. John B showed everyone the gold and everyone got really excited and started screaming “full look!”

——————-

JJ was your rock. He was your everything. After a few months of dating you both lost your virginity to each other. He was your first and you were his. The love you shared for each other was bone deep.

What nobody knew was that Ward killed the two bad guys who were also looking for the Royal Merchant. Ward has been hunting for the Royal Merchant for years. He was the one who betrayed and killed Big John Routledge.

Ward saw John B and Sarah talking outside his window. He opened the window to hear what they were saying.

“Four hundred million dollars. It’s all there,” John B exclaimed.

“Hey, that’s crazy,” Sarah replied.

“We did it. Now we just have to get it out of there.”

“Right. So how are we going to do that?”

Ward finally realized where the gold is and he takes it. He takes all of it and puts it on his private plane going to the Bahamas.

John B drives his van and parks it in front of the plane, so Ward had no choice but to stop the plane. John B reunites with Sarah and then Sheriff Peterkin pulls up.

“Oh, thank God you’re here. Susan, I told you he lost his goddamn mind,” Ward says.

“Put your hands on your head,” Sheriff Peterkin speaks.

“I’d do what she said kid,” Ward instructs.

“She’s talkin’ to you, Ward,” John B fires back.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Big John Routledge.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Put your hands on your head.”

“Are you kidding me, Sue?”

“Put your hands on your head!”

Ward finally listens and puts his hands on his head.

“Turn around.”

“Drop to your knees!”

“I don’t like being used. I waited a long time for this.”

Ward starts to resist so she holds out her gun. Next thing you know Rafe shot the sheriff.

“Rafe. What did you do?” Ward asks.

“I saved you, Dad. I saved you,” Rafe responds.

Ward makes Rafe take Sarah home. Then he waits for the sheriff to bleed out. Since the only other people at the air strip was John B, Sarah, Rafe and Ward, Ward says that John B was the one who killed her when Shoupe eventually gets there.

Everyone on the island is looking for John B because there is a reward. With your help you and JJ manage to get his dads boat the phantom for John B to use to leave the OBX. So Sarah and John B take off and you and the other pogues say your goodbyes.

John B and Sarah head into the storm. Ward calls them on a radio.

“John B. John B, I know you are there, son. I know you can hear me, and if you love my daughter like I think you love my daughter, then you will turn that boat around and come back. You are going into a storm that you cannot survive. John B, please, I will make it right. I promise you. Come back. John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around.” Wards voice boomed through the speaker.

“Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” John B yelled.

“Yes. Yes, son, I’m right here. I’m right here. Please bring her back, okay? We’ll work it out when you get home.”

“You killed my father, and you framed me for a murder I didn’t commit. You took everything from me! You took everything from me! But i’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine.”

“So, you listen to me, all right? I’m comin’ for you. I’m coming for you.”

John B and Sarah wipe out in the storm. They wake up and see a boat passing by. John B uses the gold to flag it down. The captain of the ship says they’re going to Nassau.

You and your friends are told the police lost John B and Sarah in the storm. So you believe they are dead. You’ve never felt this kind of pain before. You felt like you couldn’t go on. But at least you had JJ and your friends.

[kaiasky]

in general i feel like i understand OS bullshit pretty well but it all goes out the window with graphics libraries. like X/wayland is a userspace process. And like the standard model is that my process says "hey X Window System. how big is my window? ok please blit this bitmap to this portion of my window" and then X is like ok, and then it does the compositing and updates the framebuffer through some kernel fd or something

but presumably isn't *actually* compositing windows anymore because what if one of those windows is 3d, in which case that'll be handled by the GPU? so it seems pretty silly to like, grab a game's framebuffer from vram, load it into userspace memory, write it back out to vram for display? presumably the window just says 'hey x window system i am using openGL please blit me every frame" and then...

wait ok i guess i understand how it must work i think. ok so naturally the GPU doesn't know what the fuck a process is. so presumably there's some kernelspace thing that provides GPU memory isolation (and maybe virtualization?) which definitely exists because i got crashes in CUDA code from oob memory access. but in the abstract there's nothing to say it can't ignkre those restrictions in some cases?

and so ig the window compositor must run in like. some special elevated mode where it's allowed to query the kernel for "hey give me all of the other processes framebuffers"? or like OBS also has stuff for recording a window even if that window's occluded? so there must just be some state that can give a process the right to use other proc's gpu bufs?

the alternative is ig... some kind of way to pass framebuffers around (and part of being a X client is saying hi here's my framebuffer) . which ig if they are implemented as fd's with ioctl it'd be possible?

[vaguely-concerned]

the relationship between the chantry and the mortalitasi in nevarra is SO fucking funny. the carefully politic and civil syncretism of it all. the ‘I’ll refrain from scratching your back to bloody shreds if you refrain from scratching mine :)’. left hand politely averting its eyes from whatever the fuck the right hand is doing merrily up to its elbow in entrails because it usually knows what it’s doing I guess. speak softly, and have an army of the restless dead ready to go banapants horrorshow bonkers if you don’t get to tend to them. We Receive: being able to keep doing our goth thing mostly unimpeded. You receive: us not raising the great majority to protest your unwelcome meddling. render unto the chantry what is the chantry's and unto the watchers what is theirs (or, with all possible courtesy you understand, else…)

[forestgreenlesbian]

.

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[cluescorner]

Randomized Robins AU - Ages + Worst Trait Exercise:

Steph (25):

Says her worst trait is her murderous rages (she is exaggerating for dramatic/comedic effect, she’s killed 3 people tops and for very good reason)

Thinks her worst trait is her spitefulness (one of the few traits she definitely got from her father + one that prevents her from fixing her relationships and living her best possible life. She’ll refuse to interact with someone she dearly loves after an argument (happens significantly less after Tim’s death) or will say things she knows are hurtful just for the sake of having the last word. This trait will worsen in some ways as the list of people who have wronged her and those she loves grows, but will also ease up as she matures and realizes the harm it’s doing to her relationships with those she loves most.)

Her worst trait really is her spitefulness

Cass (26)

Says her worst trait is her self-righteousness (she believes that her goals are righteous and, as a result, she is righteous. Cass becomes very defensive whenever someone questions the mission and often does not second-guess herself. This is a trait she only develops later in life as she grows closer to Bruce/learns to understand herself more/starts to love herself more. But she knows she isn’t perfect and when somebody she trusts criticizes something she is doing she is willing to listen. She just usually isn’t the one to START the introspection.) 

Thinks her worst trait is her self-righteousness. 

Her worst trait actually is her obsessiveness (she gets it from Bruce and, while not as bad as him, she will easily become preoccupied with her night-life and the mission if someone isn’t there to pull her back. She will do this to the point of self-destruction and it hurts her relationships with the people she loves, especially Steph.)

Tim (24)

Says his worst trait is his spitefulness (he actively rejects the idea of mending his relationships with the older members of the family and this causes him to also lack good relationships with the younger ones)

Thinks his worst trait is his obsessiveness (similar to Cass, if he gets fixated on a task or idea he will neglect everything else in his life in order to dedicate more time to it. Unlike Cass, he will almost never be dragged away from it unless Pierrot snatches control of the body and forces them to take care of themself.)

His worst trait actually is how manipulative he is (the KING of guilt-tripping and using people’s emotions against them. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, he’s not above crocodile tears. And he will do it to whoever he needs (or wants) to with little care for how his actions impact others.)

Pierrot (Insists: “Age doesn’t apply to me! And even if it did, I'd probably be the oldest. Or the youngest! I’d never be a middle child, though.” Mental assessments by the Bats have put him around 21, with a margin of error of 3 years. Pierrot has called this “blatant character assassination by my eternal rival!”)

Says his worst trait is that he is an irredeemable psychopath without any regard for the wellbeing of others (this is a lie and everyone who's important to him understands this). 

Thinks his worst trait is his parasitic nature (he literally would not exist had Tim not suffered the way he did. Plus he is a living reminder of one of the worst things that happened to many of his loved ones. He is a parasite injected into a functional person's body and contributes to his continued suffering. This is also a largely incorrect judgement of himself, caused by his actual worst trait.)

His worst trait actually is his limited sense of self (he doesn’t really know who he is outside of ‘inheritor to the legacy of the Joker (a man he despises yet also views as a father)’ and ‘chip in Tim’s brain that became sentient’. He slowly develops an identity over the course of his life and relationships with other people, but he lacks the foundations of identity that most people have. Pierrot will often almost become a caricature of himself and what others perceive him to be because it's the only person he knows how to be. This causes wild swings in how he behaves and relates to others, sometimes to the detriment of himself and others.)

Dick (17) 

Says his worst trait is his clinginess (he is a very extraverted person who likes to be around others, which mixed with his fear of abandonment after his parents died means that if he goes a few days without seeing/talking to a friend he will get very anxious.)

Thinks his worst trait is his anger issues (he gets ticked off very easily and will explode on people. He’s kind at his core and is usually very nice, but he has a temper that can escalate significantly. Spoiler (and later Twist) help him channel this anger into something positive.)

His worst trait actually is his anger issues.

Barbara (18)

Says her worst trait is her disability (internalized ableism, she thinks of herself as less valuable than the other Bats because she cannot be out there in the capes like they can. She will grow out of this as she matures and as she learns how invaluable her support for the team is.)  

Thinks her worst trait is her disability 

Her worst trait actually is her overly-independent nature (In an attempt to overcompensate for everything she can no longer do, she has resolved to do literally everything that she possibly can without any help from others. This results in many instances where she either takes on too much and winds up not being able to fully realize any of her tasks or where she makes her life and the lives of others significantly harder by refusing help when offered/not asking for it when she needs it.)

Damian (16)

Says his worst trait is his perfectionism (he is overly critical of both himself and others, taking any flaw or problem and amplifying it to an absurd degree. This is due in part to his life with the LoA (where even a brief misstep could lead to death), in part to how others treated him initially as Spoiler (any flaw was fixated on and used as a reason to either mistrust him or portray him as unworthy of the mantle), and in part due to the fact that he is Bruce’s son (the only person with worse perfectionism problems than Damian). Gradually, Damian has improved in this regard but it’s still a massive barrier to both his own happiness and his relationships with others.)

Thinks his worst trait is his perfectionism 

His worst trait actually is his perfectionism

Duke (16)

Says his worst trait is his definitely-real secret evil side (says this as a ‘my dad is a villain so who knows??’ joke)

Thinks his worst trait is his impulsivity in his words (Sometimes he will crack a joke or say a remark without thinking it through, leading to a LOT of hurt feelings and drama. He’ll say something without thinking it through and wind up seeming insensitive. This isn’t done because of malice, rather because Duke is someone who’s quick to act and speak. But while the mantle of Insight and his awakening powers have helped him with his actions, they do not always help with his loose tongue. As such, Duke gains an unfair reputation in the media as an instigator and will accidentally cause family drama through what he says.)

His worst trait actually is his impulsivity in his words

Jason (14)

Says his worst trait is his bad manners (he grew up on the streets and has no idea how rich-people society works, which he’s pretty insecure about considering he’s now the youngest kid of Bruce freaking Wayne). 

Thinks his worst trait is his reactiveness (Jason never got the privilege of planning ahead for various events in his life, so he instead needed to rely on being swift and harsh in how he could react to situations. It’s saved his life on multiple occasions and helps significantly in his role as Spoiler, but it can also lead to extreme overreactions (accidentally causing kidnapping scare after Jason ran away following a fight with Dick) and a struggle to plan things out ahead of time. As he grows more secure in his place in the family and in life, this trait will lessen but never fully dissipate.)

His worst trait actually is his reactiveness