#the other dc men should be scared

[ormymarius]

comic accuracy 🍑

[jesncin]

If you had to rank all the justice league fams ( superfam, batfam, martianfam, etc ) from least favorite to most favorite, how would you do it ?

Ooh I'm not familiar with all the cape-fams that well so I don't know how much of a proper ranking I can do, so here's just a random vibes tier list:

Martianfam: In canon (i guess this consists of just J'onn and M'gann, Jem if we're reaching), they're a mess. I'll save this for the 2nd part of the upcoming Ma'al essay, but Martianfam's biggest problem is having undefined relationships that don't take advantage of a proper family dynamic. Canonically F tier. However,,,I'm obsessed with my version of Martianfam so that bias puts Martianfam in theoretical S tier.

Superfam: So much potential in this fam to be generational immigrant/diaspora angst and tension only for canon to be so uncreative with the legacy characters (minus Kong Kenan). This fam suffers from overreliance on clones and alternate universe versions of existing characters tied to Clark's Kryptonian genes (the adopted twins, Kong, and the Steels are a good change of pace). Jon and Conner (and sometimes even Kara) are suffering being, what I like to call, a "Clark Kent factory product". They're too scared to make these boys different from dad. Conner Superboy is in limbo with Jon taking over. What is going on with Powergirl being infantilized now. However,,, if the immigrant allegory was critically applied to Superfam? Theoretical S tier. Canonically C tier.

Batfam: Undoubtedly the strongest of the cape-fams in DC. Even with their flaws and how they've been modernized, this is still the blueprint. What's there cultivates an intense fanbase and there's such a diversity in the backgrounds of each Batfam member and how they evolved. Each member has a unique relationship with Bruce, many characters are capable of sustaining their own solos, they have relationships with each other, gosh it's a lot. I'm affectionately putting this in A tier, shaving some points off for stuff like erasing Babs' disability, characters like Steph but especially Duke being sidelined, the girls being infantilized as the boys get to grow into men, whitewashing Damian, etc.

Wonderfam: I can only speak based on vibes here, but gosh you deserve so much better, Wonderfam. I feel like each member should deeply explore a new facet of womanhood different from Diana to freshen up each time a new legacy character joins the Wonderfam (Nubia's great at this from what I've seen). I love that this fam includes Themyscirans and sometimes ordinary girls (even if that gets retconned a bunch). I eyeroll from a distance whenever it's really obvious that the male-dominated writers of DC try adding men into Wonderfam as a means of focusing attention away from women (cough Diana's bro). But also. Kick Trinity out of Wonderfam. I have never seen a character so universally behated but I get it. Unfortunately D tier. I want better for this fam though.

GL fam: Really good! They're a unique fam in that being a part of the GL corp means being a part of the fam, so you get people from all sorts of backgrounds that don't have to be related to a main character. Theoretically this can even extend to other lantern colors whenever the GLs team up with baddies like Razer or Sinestro. You can arrange different groups or pairs of GLs to form their own Star-Trek esque team. And that's such a fun time when that happens. I'm not in GL fandom enough to know the nuances of some narrative flaws or anything, so I'm giving the GL fam a vibes based S tier. They just work! And they're unique while doing it.

Flashfam: I can only speak based on vibes here but whatever's going on with Flash fam just looks like such a fun time. From what I've seen and read, so many of the characters are funny and endearing. I love that there are many twins in this fam. That's just a bias for me. My biggest nitpick with Flashfam is that it suffers from over-convoluted origin stories. That's kind of a problem baked into the dough when your powers intersect with time travel, but it adds a layer of inaccessibility when some of the character's backstories are so convoluted. Vibes based B tier.

Aquafam: Mostly vibes based impression again since I don't really go here but I've met the characters a good amount of times. Arthur has a special theoretical space in my heart as someone borne of two cultures. We're here for that mixed diaspora struggle. I enjoy the rivalry he has with his brother, I think Mera has a lot of potential as a love interest and wifeguy (and she has an evil twin so, bonus in my book), and aquababy. Hah. I enjoy the many ways Aqualad has been reinterpreted across media. However! Kaldur/Jackson is definitely the most interesting addition to the family, imo! I'm all for villains or villain-adjacent characters being on Team Hero. I also like Black Manta. Petty baddie we respect. Uuh vibes based B tier. I'll theoretically bump this up to S tier if all Aquafam members walked out of the ocean to the H20 "Just Add Water" theme song.

Arrowfam: I'm embarrassingly unknowledgeable with Arrowfam members so we're doing vibes. On vibes they're like Batfam adjacent but sound way more interesting. Oliver Queen is a great messy character, and I like seeing each member have a different complex relationship to him. I'm very endeared to Roy/Arsenal/Speedy, his villain will-they-won't-they romance and baby dad plot is inherently interesting. I also love Connor Hawke!! Blasian ace king fr. And I adore Black Canary. She has so much going on and still checks in on this fam too. Idk if it's controversial of me, but A tier based on vibes.

Constantinefam: SIKE this loser doesn't have friends or family they're all dead. S tier. If DC is pushing DC!Johnstantine into a family or partnership dynamic with JL Dark, Zatanna, or Xanthe Zhou? Theoretical F tier.

Haha this was fun to write, thank you for the fun ask! Nice to ramble about the various fams of the DC world.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 1 thoughts

wow… how much time has progressed… and to think, a mere two months ago, i barely knew these character’s names, let alone that they will likely stick with me for eternity...

let us begin. as we always must do.

okay, so i’m reading the episode description: scully is facing a possible dismissal!!! i know she broke rules but it was for FRIENDSHIP and LOVE! does that not count for anything anymore?!

(spooky noise) (dried up alien shot) (voice of disembodied narrative) last season on the X files…

(a recap of cig man burning things)

we open back in New Mexico, to Albert describing his relationship to memory and history: “memory is radiant and immutable, while history serves only those who seek to control it” <- banger line.

anyway. we see the smoldering ruins of that train car that was once full of aliens. but not a single mulder in sight…

cig man is breaking into the kind people’s houses!! he and his cronies are conducting violence… THEY HIT ALBERT IN THE HEAD NOOO??? HE IS A HERO... cig man, you are less than a mosquito to me

scully time!!! she’s on the scene… guess she didn’t get far back to DC. “where is he?” she asks, and they look at each other with concern in their eyes. oh, they don’t know...

eric walks into the room with a terribly beaten face... NOOO ERIC, THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER DONE THIS TO YOU.

now scully is screaming for him on the cliffs whilst the smoke still billows from the train where he was last seen… no response… it is not looking good for our friend mulder!!

she finally tries to go home, and a helicopter is shining on scully. RIGHT on her. this is not good for driving. they run her off the road with no regard for anyone's safety??? could have caused a MASSIVE pileup.

anyway, they grab her and it’s upsetting, asking where the files are and she says in the trunk. do we believe her??? it’s a copy of some of them, but not the DAT, which i would guess means the original cassette tape... oh nooo i’m scared… i mean she couldn’t deny it, but it’s also not looking good for the secrets she was trying to keep. so, without the "DAT", they just leave.

back at the FBI, they are telling her she needs to take a leave of absence. she is looking at the ground and it is once again giving student in the principal’s office. NO PAY OR BENEFITS??? you can't do that... what if she needs to go to the doctor......

i guess she is a doctor but the point stands. you NEED insurance in these parts.

she gives them her badge and gun and says she thinks mulder is dead :( NOOOOO you cannot admit defeat

skinner says “don’t think this hasn’t been difficult for everyone” and she is holding back a very very very biting remark but actually manages to hold it back, so god only knows what she wanted to say. a stronger woman than i.

until she leaves the room, that is!!! skinner comes out to talk to her and OH SHE IS MAD!!

“what about the people who are poisoning agent mulder’s water? whose protocol was that? the men who killed agent mulder, the people who killed his father- they aren’t meant to be found”

“we will find them”

“with all due respect, sir, I think you overestimate your position in the chain of command” <- OHHHH TEA. she basically said, you're a liar working for liars and perpetuating lies. meanwhile WE'RE the only real bitches at the function and one of ‘em’s dead because of YOUR pet cigarette man. SICK!!!!! truly evil.

now she has to find some work to pay the bills skinner!!

(i don't think skinner is evil, i just think he's a dick sometimes and that pisses me off more than sheer evilness. EACH time i think i have him figured out. he does something that proves me wrong)

one last visit to mulder's office before she leaves. she's going to take the real files on the cassette and they are GONE??? to whom have they gone…..

back in new york city. it's a meeting of the minds, all the big names in the world of covering up the existence of aliens. cig man is saying everything is fine, mulder is dead, and all the files are back. ALLEGEDLY!! i believe him on no accounts.

GASP scully going to her mom’s house… she walked there barefoot at night because her shoes hurt her :(

“i’ve made a terrible mistake. dad would be so ashamed of me” NOOOOOOOOOOOO DON’T SAY THAT!!!

(i cannot speak to the moral character of her father but if it were me, i would say it was doing the Right thing that counts far more than following corrupt orders from a corrupt system. and this is further proof that she is one of those people who Has to do the right thing or the guilt will consume her... )

and she DID do the right thing!!!! she just doesn't have faith!!!! i'll cry!!!

buzzards back in New Mexico… oh........

HAND SPOTTED!! white man’s hand in the rocks. is it mulder smushed?????? 

IT IS!! albert and co are hauling him out of a hole, and he’s looking quite dead, but he seems to have hid in a cave with the aliens. good on him for finding a convenient hole to duck into.

they’re doing a ceremony to call the Holy People!!!! i hope it works because remember, the calusari said mulder knows the devil and that seems contradictory...

hopefully they were just lying.

scully back home. sleeping in bed. answering the door, for someone knocks.

it’s FROHIKE???? i cackled. WHY does he know where she lives! and also why is he here when she is in her robe! well. i guess mourning will have you up and about at odd hours.

he drank a whole bottle of what looks like vodka...? and described mulder as “a redwood among mere sprouts” i laughed... it's so genuine. we all know a frohike, for better or for worse.

he assumes that she will be next in line for hunting The Truth, to which she replies, “i’m soon to be out of a job”. but she's a doctor, so it is gonna be okay. maybe she can just leave the last few months off her resume and get letters of recommendation from her professors. doctors, high in demand.

"and like rats, they just scatter back into the woodpile” she says, when discussing how these secretive people pull the strings behind the curtains. i took note because this is a yeehaw-sounding saying.

i guess we don't ever learn where she grew up, because it probably wasn't in one place, with her dad in the navy... but still. such a phrase is giving some sort of appalachia.

frohike brings bad news: the thinker was killed EXECUTION STYLE and found in a landfill... this is soooo fucked up. she is shocked they would do something so stupid and i was like ??? but ohh she's talking about tracing the bullets!

(i only realized this much later. i won't lie)

back in New Mexico, albert is working overtime calling the Holy People to come help, and mulder's floating out in space as he contemplates leaving this plane… 

people are surrounding him. perhaps the holy people or his ancestors??

but no, it is... DEEP THROAT??? I’VE MISSED YOU!!! it was nice to see him again, even for a brief moment in the astral plane.

he’s going on, very theatrically, about the absence of time in whatever it is inhabits after life: “i come to you, old friend, with the dull clarity of the dead, not to beckon you, but to feel the fire and intensity that still live in you…. there is truth here, if that is what you seek, but there is no justice or judgement, without which, truth is a vast, dead hallow” <- he has been reading Shakespeare in the afterlife 

no i actually loved that line. it goes hard. "the dull clearity of the dead". i'm eating that arrangement of words up

cutscene: aliens being gassed and locked in the railroad car. that’s…. Horrific 

(this scene takes mere seconds, and isn't addressed again in any real way in the episode, but holy. it was. unsettling. what did these bastards do to them....?)

back to the commune with the deceased. it's Bill! mr. mulder! he opens his eyes at his dad’s voice. his dad says he’s very sorry for lying about the whole alien thing, and says he is the memory; “if you were to die now, the truth would die, and only the lies survive us”. so no pressure whatsoever. /s

seemingly awake now, he asks if his sister is in the realm with the rest of those who have passed. and he learns she isn't there yet, so i'm pretty sure that makes up his mind, that he'll go back. but imagine if the answer was yes, she was there... do you think he would have still found the strength to return?

back in D.C., scully has to take the visitor’s entrance to the FBI :( but the security guard knows her!!! she is friendly in this way :) she beeps suspiciously... but he lets her though. i suspect that she might be hiding something... but what?

she's waiting for skinner. and ohhh skinner didn’t call her “agent” this time...ohhh the vibes are…….. not really vibing. it is uncomfortable.

she is bringing the news article to him and suggesting cross running the weapon that killed the thinker with the weapon that killed mulder’s dad to get some answers. this seems reasonable to me! he says she has been relieved of investigative duty and basically dismisses her. but she just wants to be helpful!!!! can you blame her??? she just wants to be HELPFUL, skinner, she wants her friend back and not dead. so please DON'T say something catty right now, i SWEAR.

SKINNER. I HATE YOU SOMETIMES. “ohhh the systems would have went off” so there is no need to cross reference the weapons. they’re killing people executioner style!!!! do you really think the people at the police department wouldn’t cover such a thing up?!?!? come ON let's use our heads!!!

he parrots her earlier line about him not having as much power as he thinks... ohhh you bitch. you should both be on the same team here and that team is "please let agent mulder be ALIVE"

he’s all “oh, you just wanna be helpful because you want your job back?” and she very firmly says NO. i just want answers. and honestly, she is handling this way better than i would be. because i would be biting and clawing skinner at this moment. to imply that she just wants her JOB back when she's trying to bring him information regarding a bunch of mysterious deaths, including that of her PARTNER?!?!?

so he says to bring him the cassette tape that she DOESN’T have or otherwise sit tight and let them do their job. and there is unbridled rage in her eyes but it somehow manages to not escape beyond body language and again, applause. 

pause. i’m actually so pissed on scully's behalf right now. and i just KNOW filming these scenes had to be fun.

as always in skinner's office, Bill Clinton watches over everything. his eyes are cold and uncaring. like a god who has abandoned its creation.

the MINUTE she leaves his office, cig man enters... SICK!!!! he's asking about the tape that he earlier claimed to the squad in new york that he got back… “that’s unfortunate”, he says, when he learns she doesn't have it. did he PLANT IT ON HER?? is that what the beeping was? do cassettes beep on metal detectors? i had some as a kid, i just remember feelings of plastic when holding them <-op was NOT onto something here

upon leaving, she is confused about the thingy beeping again. “you wearing a necklace or something?”, asks the security man. “no, not today”, and...... OH.... THE VISUAL INDICATOR THAT SHE HAS LOST ALL FAITH IN THE FORM OF HER CROSS NECKLACE BEING ABSENT. AUGHHHH TEARING MY SHIRT. ripping my hair out in grief. but that leaves the real question: what is in there?

she goes to the doctor, who looks at her neck. SOMETHING IS IN HER SKIN??? embedded in there. oh... it’s scarred over and they’re gonna pull it out, and i'm thinking i might gag if they show it, but thankfully they cut then. WHAT DID THEY DO TO HER IN ALIEN LAND????

back to the New Mexico cam!!! mulder progress!! three days of chanting and he is asking for water!! good news. 

back to D.C. no extraction scene visible, thank god. COMPUTER CHIP???? IN HER NECK??? did they microchip her... so they can track her location... or is it some sort of coded information... oh this is soooo evil

back talking with melissa!!!! my witchy best friend!!! melissa wants scully to unpack her memories, but can you blame her for NOT wanting to do that?? does reliving alien testing sound fun to you??? but, despite her reservations, she goes to a hypnotherapist anyway because she is a good sister and melissa played the "please? for me?" card

(damn, this show sure has a lot of hypnotherapy. it’s funny because i have never encountered it at all outside of this show. maybe it was the big thing at the time? and they wanted to be cool and trendy?)

but we’re back now, in repressed memory town, circa the Duane Barry era. regarding whoever was conducting the tests on her, she says she couldn’t resist them. hey what does THAT mean!!!

things look close to getting revealed when she says it’s time to go. like i said, i can imagine this is probably top ten worst sensations of all time.

so she drives back home and skinner is there??? HUH???? she looks sooooo gagged. and i was too.

(tell me why. oh god this is awful. tell me why my first reaction was “she must be going back to her mom's place... and he’s dating scully’s mom”) (cue the "i'm going to start dating her HARDER" scene from the office)

back in New Mexico. to end the ceremony, mulder must not do any work, change clothes, or bathe for 4 days. PLEASE DO THIS THING MY FRIEND. the boys give him a pouch for sunflower seeds, which he asked for during the worst of his fevers. the sunflower seeds... that when he heard them as a kid, reminded him he was not the last person in the universe... my sweet babygirl, who is a grown man breaking many many laws... glad to have you back in our world

albert shares that he went to the origin place, so overall, this mission seems to have been a success. so please, mulder, do NOT screw this up!!! sit in a hotel room and eat your seeds in your dirty clothes just do NOT break the rules of the ceremony that just saved your life.

scully calls skinner, asking why he was at her place, and he denies ever being at her apartment. BUT cig man is sitting right in front of him soooo it wouldn't have been a good time to talk anyway...

mulder is monologuing into the abyss, as he has found a way to infiltrate scully’s dreams!! very impressive!!

cutscene to his father’s his funeral. scully is there. because she is fundamentally good. she hasn’t met his mother before, right? i recall thinking earlier their first exchange might not go well, because of the whole sacrificed the “sister” for her in the hostage exchange deal thing...

but it actually goes as well as a first meeting a funeral can go. and without citing her prophetic dreams, scully tells her that she has a strong feeling he will be found. scully engaging in the supernatural...? are her sisters words ringing in her ear? or does she interpret a prophetic message dream as a message from the subconscious. i don't even think she knows.

meanwhile, a suspicious man watches this. he wants to talk to her away from the others. he makes some vague sort of reference to the UN league of alien safeguarding, and he says with confidence that mulder is dead.

AND THEN HE STARTS DESCRIBING HOW SHE WILL BE MURDERED???? okay could we GET any more unsettling. survey is saying no. anyway, she will be murdered with either with an unregistered weapon and people who will be out of the country right after the crime has been committed, or by someone she trusts visiting her house. uh oh… skinner looking sus

she asks why she is worth killing: "you want something they don’t- justice” hmm. many such cases in american history.

this guy claims to be tipping her off because his colleagues are acting “impulsively” and her death would just draw attention to them. i mean they have already killed like, 3 people if you count presumed dead mulder, but maybe one more would really push it over the edge?

mulder’s mom comes home. AND HE’S THERE!!!! in different clothes. 4 days had best have passed. i refuse to contemplate that he violated the terms of the ceremony.

okay, back from the dead, and he is interrogating his mom about his dad. she is not answering any questions- does she truly not remember or is she just deflecting... she wants to know what the deal is, and he grabs a gun and says it has to do with samantha. and leaves ominously. that man sure does want to make a dramatic exit.

missy wants to come over (scully calls her sister missy!), and she says to come over. but then someone immediately calls and hangs up- a universal sign of danger, as scully knows. she tries to call missy back, but she doesn't pick up the phone. so she calls back and she says she’ll go over to missy's place instead. the air is very very tense. something is about to go down. but what? 

running to her car. and IT'S SKINNER? he says to get in the car. scully goes in anyway but is very clearly suspicious he’ll kill her. AND SHE PULLS THE GUN ON HIM WHEN THEY GET TO MULDER'S PLACE!

“don’t turn around, or I’ll blow your head off” TEAAA! let out some of that rage i was earlier commenting was so well managed.

“don’t think I won’t do it, you son of a bitch” “no, I believe you” <- LMAOOOO he knows she is NOT messing around. and he does everything she asks of him, even sitting on his hands.

NOOOOO MELISSA GOES TO SCULLY'S PLACE AND KRYCHEK SHOOTS HER????? WHAAAAAAAAAAT???? he looks down and realizes it isn't scully, so he tells his companion that they should just leave. absolutely useless flop of a man. how did he even get into the FBI. maybe they'll just take anyone.

back to mulder's place. skinner claims he has the tape, and that he took it from mulder's desk. then why would he have sent her on the fool's errand of trying to find it? and now they BOTH have guns drawn on each other… as someone approaches the door…. presumably mulder coming home???

OHHHHHH this is the first time i have wanted to drop absolutely EVERYTHING and go straight into the next episode, writeup be damned. AUGHHH. what about melissa!!!!!! please let her make it PLEASE I CAN’T WATCH SCULLY ENDURE THIS!!!! can you imagine if she walks in the door and sees her sister bleeding out... hopefully krychek was too much of a failure to even land a lethal wound.

and honestly, from the moment I laid eyes on Krychek way back in s2, so long ago, i KNEW that he was a fucking rat. like. evil evil evil. idk how they’re gonna try and make me like him again if they decide to keep him on as a recurring character, but i truly do NOT give a fuck about what sort of backstory they come up with for him. i’m choosing anger over healing here. 

i’m that guy by the cork board pinning things with string and smoking a cigarette until all the things line up because truly WHAT is going on!!!! 

really great episode; the pacing and suspense were fantastic, i feel pumped to start a new season, i have a million questions but in an exciting rather than an overwhelming way, skinner you are once again on thin ice!!!

[wanderingmind867]

Ranking the members of the Justice League (from the 60s to the early 80s): I thought about including the Phantom Stranger, Metamorpho and Adam Strange on this list too, but I felt it'd make this whole note too long. Plus, they're barely there most of the time, so I can excuse it. Also, I forgot Snapper Carr. But Snapper would definitely also be amongst my favourites on the team.

1. Martian Manhunter (J'onn J'onzz): J'onn is the best character the Justice League has. An alien, alone and lost on a world that fears and distrusts him. Steve Englehart made it clear: J'onn's origins in the 50s are deeply entrenched in nativism and red scare era fears of the unknown. J'onn hid in plain sight for years, desperate to just be accepted and not persecuted. His powers are so cool too. Martian Vision (like superman's telescopic vision), Super-Strength, Invisibility, Shape-Shifting, Telepathy, etc. He's got such a cool powerset, and yet no writer ever knew what to do with him. J'onn should have been in all 200 issues of the Justice League comic, not a mere 70-80 of them!

2. Red Tornado: Red Tornado hasn't been as compelling as The Vision (in some ways), but that's probably because it's hard to get emotionally invested in a character who only appears 10 times and dies twice in one decade. But after he's finally made a permanent member in the mid-70s, reddy really helps me feel less of the pain of j'onn's loss from the book. He's another lonely soul, desperately seeking the meaning of his existence in a strange and unfamiliar world.

Red Tornado was built to be a weapon of T.O. Morrow. He was given false memories of being the real Red Tornado (in reality Ma Hunkel), and he was taught nothing beyond some basic facts about the Justice Society. His knowledge of the world beyond that is sorely lacking. He has no name. He has no face (at least initially). He has no nothing. He's just a machine. A being of metal and wires, a heartless robot that nobody could ever possibly love.

But slowly, reddy builds a community around himself. He adopts an orphan girl named traya. He starts dating a new yorker named kathy sutton. He manages to build a sense of self, as the kindness of strangers helps him realize just who he is and what he can offer the world. It's a beautiful story, and I really want to read his 80s miniseries. Because if there's one thing characters like Red Tornado and The Vision have taught me, it's that robots are some of the most relatable beings out there.

Also, I just need to mention his powers. Personally, I think Red Tornado could probably beat the flash in a race. He's a robot with control over the winds. He can fly at incredible speeds! And being that he's a machine, he isn't necessarily limited by things like human exhaustion or muscle strain. No, Red Tornado is definitely capable of outracing The Flash. It's just a matter of persuading other people to accept that belief of mine.

3. Superman: Superman was one of the most popular characters in comics for years, and it's no wonder why. He just inspires a sense of hope and optimism in people. Superman is a man with nearly unlimited strength, and he uses his gift to uplift the defenseless and speak for the forgotten. He could use his powers to make himself rich, but he doesn't want that. He lives a modest life as a newspaper/tv newsman, and I deeply respect him for that. He doesn't need/want riches like Batman. That's not the point of Superman. The point of Superman is seeing the good in humanity, even when everything seems bleak. There's always light in the darkness, and that light is symbolised by Superman. The hero for all mankind.

4. Wonder Woman: Probably the best female superhero DC has (at least back in the 60s and 70s). Wonder Woman does everything just as capably as the men around her, and she doesn't even need super-strength to be a hero. Sure, her amazonian lasso, super-strength, armour and robot jet definitely help her fight crime and injustice, but she doesn't need them to do it.

Look at the Diana Prince era in the 60s, where Mike Sekowsky and Denny O'Neil took all of Diana's amazon powers away. Did that stop her? No. Did it ever hinder her? Hell no! To be fair, I haven't a read of this Diana Prince stuff. But in her one apperance without powers in the Justice League, Diana pretends to faint, throws her attacker, and then threatened to break every single bone in his body. She's a strong-willed fighter, even without her many amazonian gifts. Wonder Woman is an amazing character, and her powers and skills always do impress me.

5. Firestorm: Firestorm doesn't get many good adventures with the Justice League (since he was added to the team around 20-30 issues before the team breaks apart), but his powerset and personality really impresses me. Molecular transfiguration, the ability to turn one element into another. Teenager Ronnie Raymond and his mentor Doctor Martin Stein. They're both great characters, and I just wish I'd get to see more of them doing cool stuff with the league. I want to see more of their powers! More of both of them in general, really.

6 & 7. Hawkman and Hawkgirl/Hawkwoman: They're ranked together, because they're very much a package item. Same powers, same skills, a devoted married couple, etc. As long as one of the Hawks is used in a story, I'm happy. They have a lot of cool character traits. Ties to History (being museum curators), Feelings of Loneliness and Ostracization (being aliens who feel out of place on earth), etc. Plus, they're nearly equal in strength and power. Hawkman and Hawkgirl are both amazing, and I can't bring myself to choose one over the other.

8. Green Lantern (Hal Jordan): Hal could go just above or just below the Hawks, depending on my mood. I don't want to read any of his stuff beyond the John Broome era (since I don't really like Green Arrow and his team-up stuff), but I liked most of the silver age stuff I did read. Plus, his power ring and willpower stuff is really cool. It's a very inventive powerset, one with so much potential and so many uses.

9. The Flash (Barry Allen): Flash is a great character. He's a very genuine soul, with a great sense of humour. He's one of the most normal members of the Justice League, just a man who accidentally obtained superpowers and now tries to use them to help people. I use to see him as boring, but now I see that as a charming aspect of his character. Still, there's more characters who I prefer, so he gets delegated to number 9 here.

10. The Elongated Man: Ralph Dibny is pretty cool. His twitching nose makes him a walking bloodhound for mysteries, and he's a great source of comedic relief in the series. He has so many fun lines, which makes me appreciate him. Also, he's got no secret identity. And I love that. Him and his wife are known public entities, a happily married pair. Why do Marvel and DC both have characters with no secret identities who're married to women named Sue? I don't know, but I love it nonetheless.

11. Aquaman: Aquaman isn't used that often, which makes it hard to have him as a favourite member. And while I still think Namor is better at Marvel, Aquaman isn't bad. His one main power (namely, that of telepathically communicating with fish), is really unique. And his family is pretty cool (like Mera and Aqualad). So he's not bad, he's just not used nearly enough for my liking.

12. Zatanna: Zatanna uses magic, which I love. Although I don't love reading all of her backwards spells, I still can't make her the bottom of my list. The gift of magic (even if it is in a style i don't necessarily love), is one that leads me to appreciate her presence on the team.

13. Black Canary: I like Black Canary, but I hate how underutilized she is. Does she get to use her martial arts skills often? Not really. Does she ever use her sonic powers? Not really. She uses it once in a blue moon, and that's it. Honestly, she was better back on the JSA. In those early stories, she had her ju-jujitsu skills, and an amulet tricked up with gadgets, and her husband who was a private eye. Dinah Lance is better with Larry Lance on earth-two, in my opinion. Before she gets her sonic powers, back when she was just a cool martial artist.

14. Green Arrow: Green Arrow is in my bottom three, because he can be a massive jerk sometimes. He's called Wonder Woman a "witch", he's kicked his sidekick out of the house, he's told wonder woman and black canary to stay on the sidelines and help the wounded. He's a chauvinistic pig sometimes, and he's so much worse than Hawkeye. The only reason he's not at the very bottom is because he gets some decently funny lines sometimes.

15. The Atom: I don't tend to like size changing super-heroes too much, so I tend to find Atom pretty boring. Jean Loring is actually way more sympathetic and compelling, to me. And Hank Pym has all his mental health issues, which makes me love him way more than Ray Palmer. So although I don't despise the atom, I do tend to find him more boring than the other characters on the team.

16. Batman: Batman is at the very bottom, solely because of his post-crisis stories and his dark and edgy interpretations. Although his silver age interpretation is great, his darker, more boring modern interpretation really sours me on the character. There's not much else to say beyond that.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Bruised Figure

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason aspires to become a figure skater despite obstacles in his personal life.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Catherine Todd, Willis Todd, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain

Additional Tags: Figure Skater AU, Chronically Ill Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Two: Corkscrew

The year after Jason's skating lessons with Catherine started, he saw the World Figure Skating Championship for the first time. His eyes were glued to the screen as the men and women glode across the ice. Catherine slept on the couch behind him. That was all she did as of late. So, he'd skate by himself. He couldn't afford to go to the rinks, so he took his ice skates to the private academy. A girl in their neighborhood showed him how to sneak onto the campus once, and he was still small enough to fit under the hole in the fence. Jason was determined to do what he saw the men on tv doing, even if it took him a lifetime to learn. He found the unlocked entrance to the school's gym, and he snuck down to their ice rink.

Once Jason managed to pull the heavy metal doors open, a few boys and girls were already there. He hesitated, but the slamming of the door behind him drew attention to him. "If you snuck in to skate, you're one of us!" one of the boys yelled. All the other children agreed with him. Their voices melded together as they shared their thoughts. Jason rushed down the bleachers and took his shoes off, tying them around his neck before putting on his ice skates.

An older girl skated toward him and stopped right in front of him. "You wanna see something cool?" the older girl asked. Jason nodded. He moved a few paces away from Jason before approaching a spin. Jason waited for the girl to come back, but the girl didn't. She just kept skating. Eventually, Jason checked his skates to see if they were tied correctly and went out on the ice. He was scared to skate close to all the older kids, so he kept close to the edge. Before attempting anything, Jason closed his eyes and imagined Catherine was right there. The thought of her voice soothed him, and when he opened his eyes, he was spinning.

It caught the older boy's attention, and Jason's breath caught as the boy that first spoke to him came close. He swallowed hard and swizzled backward into the guard rail. "How old are you?" he asked.

Jason chewed his lip and whispered, "I'm six years old." He wrung his little hands, and the older boy backed away, just enough for Jason to see that he wasn't a threat. Jason's shoulders relaxed.

"Do that spin again," the older boy commanded softly. Jason nodded and closed his eyes again, focusing only on the imagined sound of Catherine's voice, and when he opened his eyes, he did it again. He felt self-conscious, but the wide-eyed look of wonder in the older boy's eyes set him at ease. "I know most boys in Gotham wanna go into hockey, but I think you should think about figure skating. You'd be good at it." The older boy messed his hair up and glid away. Jason grinned an open mouth grin, and he kept practicing at the same spin until he was too tired to go on.

He changed into his shoes and took the bus home. It was nearly dinnertime when he got back, and Willis was furious. "And where the hell have you been?" Willis yelled. Jason took his skates off his neck and set them down on the floor. "It's almost dinnertime, and don't tell me you were at the rink because I didn't give you any money to go! I checked!" Willis picked him up and shook him.

"I went to the rink at the rich school," Jason confessed. Willis dropped Jason, and he landed hard on the carpet. Jason closed his eyes, anticipating a blow to the head, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes and wiped his face as a few tears slid down his cheeks. Willis crouched down in front of him. "Honest," Jason whispered.

"Go get ready for dinner," Willis muttered. Jason got up and ran off to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Catherine sat up on the couch and looked around the room. "Was that Jason?" Catherine asked. Willis didn't answer. He turned the oven off and sat down at the kitchen island. Jason came out of the bathroom, and he went straight to Catherine.

She wrapped her arms around him, but it didn't give him any comfort. Her weight was heavy on his shoulders, and she smelled different. He wanted to pull away from her, but he didn't want to hurt Catherine's feelings. When she let go, he went to the kitchen and took his tv dinner out of the oven, and he sat down at the coffee table on the floor. Willis had a drink and sat down across from Jason, blocking his view. "The two of us guys should go to the gym. Hit the heavy bag," Willis grinned, "Give the skates a rest during the warmer weather?"

Jason looked down at his dinner. He didn't want to make Willis mad. "I like ice skating," Jason mumbled. Willis grabbed his wrist as a threat.

"I'll be damned if I let my son—."

"Willis, let him go," Catherine whispered. Jason took a deep breath and tried to take his wrist back. Willis held his arm in an even tighter grip in response. Jason let out a whimper, and he nearly let out a cry as Willis picked him up by his arm. "Willis, stop! You're gonna break his arm!" He yanked Jason over the coffee table, and Jason's arm popped.

He started to wail violently, and once Willis realized what he'd done, he cursed under his breath. "Shhh... Stop crying. Shit. Jason, I'm taking you to the emergency room," Willis whispered, "Just stop screaming! Stop!" Jason tried to, but he couldn't stop crying.

"Give him to me," Catherine whispered as she got up from the couch. He picked Jason up, gave him to Catherine, and she followed Willis downstairs. She stumbled a few times down the steps, and Jason held onto her with his uninjured arm. "I know it hurts, but you're gonna be alright."

Willis hailed a cab, and the three of them got in. "The emergency room," Willis commanded calmly. Catherine buckled her seatbelt while holding Jason on her lap. Jason hadn't stopped crying since his shoulder popped out of its socket.

"Can you roll the back window down a little? Maybe the cold air will calm him down," Catherine whispered. The driver nodded and rolled Catherine's window down. Willis tried to touch Catherine's arm, and she pulled away. Catherine pressed a kiss to Jason's head and whispered something to Jason that neither Jason nor Willis could make out. The cab driver heard her, and he continued to drive towards the emergency room.

Catherine carried Jason to the front desk while Willis paid the cab driver. The nurse took him to check his vitals, and she took off his jacket to look at his arm. "Hi, I'm Nurse Lila. How old are you, sweetheart?" the nurse asked. Jason tried to stop crying as he answered her, but he couldn't calm himself. Catherine lied about Jason playing at the playground and popping his shoulder out of the socket. The nurse nodded, and she took Jason and Catherine into the hall, and Willis followed behind them. Lila explained what was going on and gave Jason a sedative. During that time, she sat and talked with him. "How old are you, sweetie?"

"Six," Jason hiccupped as he calmed down.

"So you're first grade?" Nurse Lila asked. Jason nodded. "Can you tell me what time it is on the clock right now?"

Jason sat up and looked at the clock on the wall while the nurse popped his shoulder back into its socket, and she messed up his hair. The sudden shift startled him, but it didn't hurt. "Seven-oh-three," Jason answered. She chuckled and said something to his parents, and he lay back in his seat. He didn't remember much after that.

When he woke up, he was in his pajamas, and his arm was in a sling. He was still sore, but Willis never asked him about boxing after that. It was the last time they ever talked about Jason's skating. Willis left it alone after that, but the fear never left Jason.

[irayoeywa]

avatar characters as humans headcannons vol.2

part one part three

tuktirey, spider, aonung, and rotxo.

tuktirey

justice and claire's are her favorite stores.

loves roblox and always asking for robux.

blackmails lo'ak into giving her money or buying her robux.

definitely an outside kid, she loves playing outside.

neytiri and mo'at are probably the only people that can say no to her.

she has jake and neteyam wrapped around her finger.

hair always done in cute styles with barrette's, bobo hair ties, or beads.

very tender headed so she hates to sit down to get her hair done. she's wincing and flinching the whole time.

kinda gives zuri from jessie vibes so she probably has imaginary friends.

spider

well he’s already a human so i guess i mean modern.

doesn't have locs bc let's be fr.

since quaritch is his dad, he grew up around military men and women.

they probably let him take a sip of their beer when he was a kid.

did wrestling at one point.

has mommy issues.

played in dirt as a kid and got ring worm a dozen times.

chased people around with bugs so they would run away.

he listens to alternative music.

his grades be all over the place.

was too scared to ask quaritch to help him with his hw after the first "IF JIMMY HAD 5 APPLES" incident.

aonung

resting bitch face.

said "i don't know what you see in him" to tsireya when he found out that her and lo'ak were dating.

only person he trust fr is rotxo.

i feel like his parents pay more attention to tsireya so he's always trying his best in both his studies and sports.

on both the basketball team and the swim team.

probably bullied girls he had a crush on.

is a morning person.

listens to travis scott.

he kind of gives me chase atlantic listener vibes.

always rolling his eyes.

a DC fan.

rotxo

someone said that he was def raised by his grandma and now i can't see it any other way.

was definitely that person in middle school/high school that would go to teachers he didn't have anymore to say hi and give unwanted advice to the students in the class.

listens to tyler, the creator, brent faiyaz, and drake.

dank memes are his humor.

always wearing baggy jeans.

very obvious when he has a crush on someone but oblivious when someone has a crush on him.

somewhat book smart but not common sense smart.

now even though i just said he's somewhat book smart, he reminds me of that scene in outer banks where jj says, "he's straight up like the spanish, just bon voyage" and everyone is just like ???

on the swim team.

tonowari treats him like a second son.

sleeps in class.

doesn't own a folder so all his papers are crumbled up in his bag.

rotxo's is way longer than i anticipated. but i hope you enjoyed :)

i was thinking about making one for the adults, lmk if i should. also if you have any ideas or requests, send them in.

[maaarine]

Boys & Sex: Young Men on Hookups, Love, Porn, Consent, and Navigating the New Masculinity (Peggy Orenstein, 2020)

"Nearly 60 percent of American boys in an international 2017 survey said that their parents (usually their dads) were the primary source of restrictive messages about masculinity.

Rob, an eighteen-year-old from New Jersey in his freshman year at a North Carolina college, said his father would tell him to “man up” if he was struggling in school or on the baseball field.

“That’s why I never talk to anybody about any problems I’m having,” he said.

“Because I always think, If you can’t handle this on your own, then you aren’t a man, you aren’t trying hard enough, you’re being a bitch.”

Rob’s roommate, Ely, who grew up in the suburbs of Washington, DC, got a similar message, though in a subtler form.

“My dad wasn’t sexist,” he said. “I didn’t learn ‘toxic’ or homophobic behavior from him. But I certainly learned the emotionally stunted side of masculinity. He never showed emotion: he was more of a sigh-and-walk-away guy than someone who would talk to you about what was going on.”

A 2018 national survey of over a thousand adolescents found that although girls believed there were “many ways to be a girl” (the big, honkin’ caveat being they still felt valued primarily for their appearance), boys felt there was only one narrow pathway to successful manhood.

They still equated the display of most emotions, as well as vulnerability, crying, or appearing sensitive or moody, with “acting like a girl”—which, in case you were wondering, is not a good thing.

A third of the boys surveyed agreed that they should hide or suppress their feelings when they were sad or scared.

Another third, like Rob, had felt pressure to “be a man” and “suck it up.”

Over 40 percent agreed that when they were angry, society expected them to be aggressive; the next most common response was that they should do nothing, keep quiet, and, again, “suck it up.”

Only 2 percent associated maleness with qualities such as honesty or morality, and only 8 percent with leadership—traits that are, of course, admirable in anyone but have traditionally been ascribed to masculinity.

Young American men also report more social pressure than other nationalities to be ever ready for sex and have as many partners as possible; feel a stronger stigma against homosexuality; and receive more messages that they should conform to rigid gender roles in the home and control their female partners, even to the point of violence."

[fanfictilltheend]

You should see me in a crown - Chapter 3 (Y/N Grimes/Negan Smith)

AO3 LINK

Chapter 1 // Chapter 4

Masterlist

A/n: Hi, this is my second story ever and I wrote it like 5 years ago but was too scared to post it lol so if you could give any feedback that would be much appreciated! I have more chapters to this so if you want ‘em ya gotta let me know! Y/N is like 20 in this and Negan is whatever age he is in season 7 so if that’s too much of an age gap please turn back!

Warnings: 18+ smut dn interact if not 18+ afab!you, daddy kink, kissing, age difference, abusive!Rick Grimes, protective Negan,

Summary: Negan and Y/N ride to The Sanctuary.

After grabbing a shirt and a few other things to take with me, Negan invites me into the passenger’s seat of the truck and he gets behind the wheel as the other men sit in the back, separated from us. This is truly the fucking craziest thing I’ve ever done — including trying to kill Negan the other day. But I don’t care. I’m sick of putting everyone else first. Negan pushes a CD into the player on the dashboard and AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” starts playing. 

“You’re so cliché,” I tell him with a smirk. 

I haven’t thought about music in so long...

“ Excuse me?” Negan snorts, clearly amused, putting down Lucille next to him securely and hitting the gas. “Me? Cliché? I’m one-hundred-percent genuine, original, motherfucking badass! And don’t you fucking forget it, kid.”

“Yeah, leather jackets and heavy metal. Really groundbreaking,” I smirk as the wind starts blowing through the flyaway hairs around my face that didn’t quite make it into my ponytail. 

“You are such a little shit,” he growls fondly, jostling my shoulder playfully and my heart flutters, as he keeps one hand on the wheel. I wanna touch him too. It’s like we can’t keep our hands off each other. “Like you’re the soul of originality anyway, huh? Mrs. Daddy-issues, falling for the big bad boy in the leather fucking jacket.”

“Got me there, bad boy,” I shrug, grinning. I lean over and kiss him on the cheek and rub my fingers through his hair, messing it up a little. It’s almost insane how comfortable I feel around him now. His stubble scratches against my lips. It was kind of an impulsive move, but he seems to have liked it. His ears go a little red. I count making him flush anywhere as a personal victory. He looks at me like I’m too sweet as I pull away, a little embarrassed, and he rolls his eyes.

“And I’ll have you know,” he tells me, poking me in the ribs for emphasis, smiling with his eyes, getting back to business. “That my silhouette is fucking iconic, okay? That’s how you know you’re fucking original, right? If you can tell who someone is just from behind? Like with movie characters and shit! You see me from the back, holding my baby Lucille, and there ain’t nobody for goddamn miles around who doesn’t know who the fuck I am and what I can do. But most importantly,” he says, his voice getting deeper, his big hand suddenly squeezing down around my thigh and I gasp in surprise. “Is that there is nobody out there as goddamn, motherfucking bad as me .”

The way he says that makes me giggle, but also tremble a little. It doesn’t help when he starts to rub up and down the inside of my leg. I inhale, trying to calm myself down. It feels so good. 

“Yeah, okay...” I nod, trying to keep my cool, but it’s really hard and I think he knows it as I try not to squirm. “Except I don’t even havta see Lucille,” I snicker, thinking about it, trying not to moan as his big hand moves farther up my thigh. God, I am desperate! “I can just tell by how far back you lean. How do you even do that shit anyway? Like you’re not exactly young and spry anymore, old man. And that’s some true acrobat shit,” I am full-out laughing now until Negan starts to rub over my cunt through my pants. Then I get quiet real fast and he smiles big in a kinda dark way I think is so hot. Fuck, I’m really wet now and my breathing starts to get a lot heavier. I’m such a sucker. The hairs on my neck stand up on end. And then his hand moves over just the right place and I let out a little moan involuntarily. I cover my mouth in surprise.

He chuckles like he owns me, his voice low, in complete amusement. And I’m totally fucked because he so does.

“Something funny, sweetheart?” he asks innocently, his hand disappearing under my jeans, rough fingers trailing over my underwear. And I am squirming for him to do more. God, it feels good how he’s moving against me, and my pussy clenches in excitement as I move against him, but it’s not quite enough! My heart beats so fast. I try not to rut into his big hand greedily. “Always so fucking wet for me, huh, honey?” he asks softly in my ear. I fucking tremble . “Christ, baby girl,” he smirks, seeing how worked up I’m getting. I look over and see the large bulge in his jeans and want to point out that he seems pretty affected too, but the pleasure — it’s too much.

“Please, Daddy,” I whine, surprising myself, my cheeks flush pink as I try to arch my hips into his hand. “ Please.”

God, I’m so fucking needy!

But instead of laughing, Negan just groans quietly in response, staring at me hungrily and for a second I’m sure he’s gonna pull over and fuck me right there on the side of the road, hard, and my heart races. But then he takes his hand away, with a huge amount of self-restraint, sighing, and I groan in frustration. He smiles wide at the control he has over me in the situation. 

“Nah. I don’t think so,” He shrugs, smirking infuriatingly. “You get to cum when I fucking say you can. You ought to know that by now, darlin’. And we’ve got somewhere to be. But God, you are such a fucking good little slutty tease for me,” he grins, slapping my thigh. “And fuck if I don’t I love it!” He reaches up to his parted lips and sucks on his glistening fingers that were rubbing against me a second ago. My eyes go wide, heat curling low in my belly. Ugh, I just wanna ride him! Even his fucking fingers. Whatever he’ll fucking give me honestly.

“Still fucking feel like making fun of me though?” he asks like a threat, his voice getting very low as he puts his hand back on my thigh, his words breaking me away from my thoughts. 

I shake my head demurely.

“N-no, Daddy,” I say even though I don’t really want to. 

“Good girl,” he nods, looking very satisfied. And I bask in the praise. But then he takes his hand away! Again!

And then I can’t help firing off my big mouth. And besides, maybe if I piss him off enough he’ll put it back since being good clearly didn’t get me any further...

“Hey, you know when you lean back like that, if I stood right behind you, do you think I could see your vertebrae disconnect?” I ask, trying not to laugh. “I mean really how do you do it?”

Negan rolls his eyes and slugs my arm half-heartedly, rubbing it before he takes his hand away, his tongue on his lips. But he’s smiling interestedly now, like he’s impressed with my persistence. 

“Hardy goddamn har. You are so fucking funny, kid, I’m rolling all over the goddamn floor. And here I was thinking you’d learnt your fucking lesson,” his voice lowers threateningly and I shiver. “Evidently not . But the lean? That’s a trade secret, baby.” His eyes light back up as he tells me. He licks his lips. “But you know,” he says. “Now that I think about it, I bet you can also tell it’s me from behind from how much time you spend staring at my ass .”

My face goes bright red. 

“Shut up!” I stammer, punching him back in the shoulder, hard. “Oh my god!” Am I really that obvious!?

Negan snickers.

“Hey, it’s no problem. I know it’s a nice ass and all —hell, my wives fucking kiss it all the time —but, Jesus, talk about thirsty… ” 

He’s snickering even more now at the mortified expression on my face. He’s so hot it’s hard to be pissed at how smug he is though.

“ Someone needs to get laid…” he snorts like he can read my thoughts. 

Well, whose fault is that!?

My face is bright pink, but I’m smiling too. I can’t help it. I still can’t believe this is happening. He isn’t wrong...

“Maybe you should do something about that,” I challenge, putting my hand on his warm denim-clad thigh. He’s not the only one who can play at this game. I mean, he’s still hard. I slide my hand closer to the large bulge and he sighs deeply in a way I’d like to hear again. “Maybe you need to, uh,” I channel every romance novel I’ve ever read. “Discipline me…” I suggest with a casual shrug. His eyes look amused, excited, and wanting. “You know, like teach me a lesson?” I try to clarify.

He laughs.

“Oh, baby, you know I—“

He’s about to say something sassy and sexy and promising I’m sure —I can tell by his face and the way he’s looking at me and the way my pussy throbs—but then his eyes wander and he notices my shoulder as we go over a bump in the road. 

“Hey, are you fucking dumb? Put your fucking seat belt on!” he barks suddenly.

“What!?” I stammer incredulously, snorting, literally so shocked that of all the things he could have said to interrupt me touching him, this is what he comes up with.

“You heard me!” he repeats like a pissed-off parent. Is he actually serious? “You are not fucking dying like that. Not on my watch. You’re way too smart and badass for that shit and you’ve got a whole fucking life ahead of you and I have big fucking plans for your cute little sorry ass.”

“What kinda plans?” I ask, getting on all fours and sticking my head out the window to egg him on. Is he trying to tease me? If he wants me to tease him, I will. The wind blows my hair everywhere as I look out onto the forest road, giving him a nice view of my ass. 

“I’m serious, Y/N!” Negan snaps, grabbing my ass that’s kinda sticking out towards him in the breeze and I blush. But he doesn’t even take the bait and try to play with me! He just yanks me back in and my ass slams back down into the seat. Boy, he’s strong. I sorta thought he’d spank me or something more fun. “You could get your motherfucking arms and head chopped off!” He shouts.

“Okay, fine, Dad !” I relent, shaking my head, sitting back down in a huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Jesus, you did say my ass was cute and all…” I mumble a little sheepishly at the pissed-off look on his face in an attempt to explain myself. His face softens. “I was just tryna tease you...” But he was actually worried about me, the big sap! I hope those plans involve a lot of sex. But, like, I don’t think a single person has told me to put on a seatbelt since the apocalypse started. I guess it’s kinda nice that he cares. Jesus, who is this guy? My dad? The fucking safety patrol? A sex god? My personal temptation from Hell? And to think I would have killed him only a few fucking days ago! I reach for the buckle above my shoulder, but when I pull it down, it gets stuck halfway. I pull it again and the same thing happens.

“Jesus, kid, let me fucking do it why don’t you,” he growls, rolling his eyes, and reaches over and slams the metal down into the buckle, but I can see his eyes soften ever so slightly at the expression on my face. 

 “It’s broken!” I pout but cut myself off when I see he’s easily fixed the problem. 

“Broken, my ass. There. Honestly, what the fuck would you do without me, baby?” he smirks, adjusting the strap a little so I’m more comfortable. He looks like he’s enjoying feeling important and authoritative over me. Probably part of his goddamn savior complex he so perfectly laid out for me the other day...

“Alright, alright, I’m good,” I insist, my face a little red from embarrassment at not being able to fucking buckle my own self. “‘S not my fault you’re so fucking strong!” But I like the attention of him doting on me too much and I think he knows it. “Hey, Negan, though?” I ask suddenly, pulling on his shoulder, thinking of our impending arrival. “Hey, are your wives gonna be pissed at me?”

“Pissed? For not wearing a seatbelt? Fuck if I know!” he shrugs, rolling his hazel brown eyes, reaching up to adjust a mirror. “I try not to drive ‘em around too much honestly. Unless we end up fucking in the back. Or if they give me a handy while I’m driving,” he turns to me and winks. “Hell, if they blow me while we’re on the road, they sure as shit aren’t wearing theirs,” he grins devilishly.

“No. Fucking hell. Gross!” I roll my eyes. He smirks. “I mean about me being at the Sanctuary. Being with you. They won’t be pissed off about that?”

“Oh, I highly fucking doubt it,” he tells me with another shrug, rolling his eyes again. “They don’t much care who I fuck as long as they get to keep living the lavish-ass lifestyles they do.” He looks out at the road and not at me like maybe that pisses him off a little. But the look is gone as soon as it came. “Why? You know I’m the boss around there, baby,” he smirks, turning back to me, cocky and confident as ever. “You don’t have shit to worry about on that end.”

“Oh...uh, no reason,” I say quickly, my cheeks turning pink again. “It’s just, —I dunno —if I was your wife, I guess I wouldn’t wanna share you is all,” I shrug.

Sound more pathetic, I dare you!! I think to myself as soon as the words have left my mouth. I shouldn’t have said that out loud, but when I look up he’s actually smiling at me. And it’s not a smirk. It’s a real smile. He looks genuinely pleased. 

“Aw, you are such a fucking sweetheart, aren’t you?” he tells me, as he reaches out and pinches my cheek. I yelp and smack his hand away. And then he’s laughing, but I think he actually looks a little touched. “You are a fucking sassy little shit with one helluva fire in your belly, but sweet and soft as shit nonetheless,” he says fondly, looking me over. “It’s a fucking wonder you’ve survived this long...” he says over exaggeratedly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling big all the same. “Not too many people like that last in this shitshow…” he says after a moment a little more seriously, looking at me like he really sees me. 

“Guess you’re lucky you found me,” I grin.

“Guess I fucking am,” he agrees as he ruffles my hair and leans in and plants a playful kiss on my neck that turns into a bite and then a small, purple hickey as the wind from outside blows softly through my hair.

“So what the fuck kinda music do you like to listen to anyways ?” He muses. “And if you say that Justin Bieber shit I’ll throw you outta the goddamn car right here and now!”

a/n: FOR THE RECORD I don't hate Justin Bieber I just think that since the apocalypse happened in like 2010 he was a big thing then and that's the kind of thing Negan would say since he was a high school teacher he would have known his popularity, but all the beliebers can feel free to excoriate me in the comments if they so please. PLEASE leave comments or kudos if you want more I have a few more chapters. Do you like how things are progressing? Do you hate it? Let me know!!

Chapter 4

Masterlist

[justsomerandomfanfic]

hi!!! I’d like a DC matchup please :)

im 19 years old studying electrical engineering with a minor in classical civilizations & European history.

i’m 5’2, 120 pounds and I have a good amount of muscle on me. I have short curly black hair and black eyes as well and im Indian as well. ummm im described as particularly vivacious and stubborn, protective and often explosive.

I love any and every DC media, the office (any sitcom in general tbh), dead poets society, and mulan. for hobbies, I played tennis competitively for nine year & I paint and draw as well as do Krav Maga.

I prefer men — thank you!! I hope this isn’t too long

Hello!

Don't worry, your request is not too long! It's a great amount. :)

I hope you like your DC matchups!

:)

Enjoy!

Romantic Matchup: DC

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

DC;

Jaime Reyes -

You met Jaime during a college group project in your European History class - something you took and something Jaime enrolled in because he thought it sounded cool.

The professor paired you up, and it didn’t take long for you to notice how sweet and genuine Jaime was, even if he was a little awkward at first.

He admired your enthusiasm and stubborn determination to make the project perfect.

Jaime was immediately drawn to your vivacious energy.

He found your fiery personality inspiring and loved how passionate you were about everything you did.

One late-night study session led to a conversation about family and ambitions.

Jaime shared his dreams of helping his family and his struggles with balancing college and the responsibilities of being Blue Beetle.

Though he didn’t mention his hero identity, you could see the weight of something heavy on his shoulders.

You two became fast friends after the project.

You loved how Jaime was always there to support you, whether it was a pep talk before a Krav Maga session or cheering you on during tennis.

Late-night conversations became a staple of your friendship.

Jaime would bring snacks, and you’d sit under the stars, talking about everything from the meaning of life to which superhero you’d want to meet.

(Jaime always said Blue Beetle, obviously.)

He adored watching you paint or draw, often sitting quietly and watching you work.

You’d occasionally catch him doodling stick figures on your sketchpad.

Jaime always tried to convince you to take a break from studying, dragging you to campus events or movie marathons in his dorm.

Jaime was the first to realize his feelings when he caught himself staring at you during a campus festival.

You were passionately discussing with someone over the best 'Dead Poets Society' character, and he thought to himself how amazing you were.

For you, it hit when Jaime showed up unprompted at your Krav Maga practice with water and snacks.

He waited the whole session just to walk you home.

It was such a small thing, but it made your heart flutter.

Both of you were oblivious to the other's feelings, despite your friends constantly teasing you about how you acted like a couple.

Jaime would get nervous whenever you got too close or touched his arm, his heart racing when you’d playfully punch his shoulder.

The confession happened on a rainy evening after a particularly heated argument between you two.

Jaime had accidentally forgotten a promise he made to help you with a project because he was busy dealing with Blue Beetle responsibilities.

You were frustrated and hurt, and he was guilt-ridden, trying to apologize.

In the heat of the moment, he blurted out, “I'm Blue Beetle! That's why I've been gone sometimes. But, I was too scared to tell you because I care about you so much, okay? More than a friend should. And if anything happened to you...”

You froze, your anger dissolving as you realized the weight behind his words.

With a soft smile, you replied, “Well, it’s about time, Reyes.”

The rain was still pouring, but Jaime didn’t care.

He kissed you then and there, pulling you close as if you’d disappear.

Jaime loves taking you on casual dates, like visiting art galleries or watching sitcoms.

He’s always trying to impress you with how thoughtful he can be.

He’s the type to write you little love notes and slip them into your notebooks, each one more heartfelt than the last.

Jaime is incredibly attentive, always remembering the little things you like, like your favorite coffee order or the specific brush you prefer for painting.

He loves cooking breakfast with you on lazy mornings. You’d try to show him how to make traditional dishes, but he’d get flustered and end up burning something.

It always ends in laughter.

Jaime gets a kick out of watching you talk back to the TV during sitcoms, especially when you defend 'The Office' characters with fiery determination.

He’s a cuddle enthusiast, always finding an excuse to hold you close when you’re both relaxing after a long day.

He constantly surprises you with little sketches of you that he’s been secretly practicing.

They’re not perfect, but they’re heartfelt, and they make you smile every time.

Jaime loves bringing you flowers.

Whenever you’re studying late, Jaime swings by with snacks and coffee, staying with you until you finish, even if he has no idea what you’re working on.

Jaime is fiercely protective of you.

He wouldn’t hesitate to step in if someone disrespected you, but would back off if you could handle yourself.

He’s always trying to make your life easier, whether it’s fixing something for you or helping you with your studies.

He’d go out of his way to plan thoughtful surprises, like a private stargazing date or tickets to see your favorite historical exhibit.

You’d be his biggest cheerleader, always encouraging him to follow his dreams and reminding him of how incredible he is.

Whenever he feels overwhelmed by his responsibilities as Blue Beetle, you’d be the one to ground him, offering your unwavering support.

You’d teach him the basics of tennis and laugh as he struggles to keep up, but he loves every second of it because it’s time spent with you.

[iambutmortal]

Chapter 6

Summary: When Elain signs the divorce papers she’s sure she’s done with Lucien Vanserra. Until they’re offered the chance to recreate their honeymoon as a part of her job. For free. But reliving all those memories with Lucien proves leaving may be more difficult than she thought.

Word Count: 4.4k

Authors Note: It's done! Finally!

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Elain had spent the night in Nesta’s room, curled up in bed with her. She’d pretended not to hear the ‘I’m worried about her’ conversation Nesta had with Feyre over face time in the bathroom, although she did give Feyre an ‘I’m fine’ thumbs up from under the covers. She did, however, listen in to the calls Nesta made to the airline company, moving their flight up to leave the next morning instead of four days later.

Which was why she was sitting on a plane at seven in the morning, sipping coffee and wiping the sleep from her eyes, Nesta looking similarly bleary next to her. Elain leaned her head against the back of the seat in front of her, desperate for even a minutes more sleep when she heard Nesta’s muttered, “oh fuck.”

“What?” Elain asked, not lifting her head.

“Apparently we’re not the only ones eager to leave,” Nesta snarled.

That got Elain to lift her head, peeking open her eyes just enough to see a tall redhead entering the plane. Lucien, followed closely behind by Cassian. And they were both headed down the aisle towards her.

“They better not be sitting here,” Nesta said.

Elain glanced wearily at the row of empty seats opposite them, and then back at the two men advancing towards them, row by row. She waited with bated breath, craning her head to look for any other unoccupied space they could be in, but they just kept coming closer and closer.

Until Cassian stopped in front of them.

“Apparently when you move a group booking you move all the flights,” Cassian said, talking to neither of them in particular as he threw his suitcase into the overhead. “Getting the ‘your flight is now scheduled for tomorrow’ text at two in the morning was really the highlight of the trip.”

Nesta raised her chin in defiance. “Talk to the airline if you have a problem.”

“I did,” Cassian said. “They said we’d have to go through the booking company to separate them, and I thought that might be a tough conversation to have with Cosmopolitan. ‘Oh by the way, the two people you picked for their relationship have actually been separated for months, hope that doesn’t cause any problems.’  Although I did inform them a family emergency came up and we needed to leave early, since neither of you bothered to come up with an excuse for why you were playing hooky.”

Nesta’s cheeks flushed at the embarrassment of knowing Cassian had needed to do something she should have handled.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning away from Cassian, who just sighed and slid into the window seat so Lucien could take the aisle one.

Elain quickly turned away from him, wishing she could sink into her seat. The idea of seeing him turned her stomach, guilt and anger roiling there.

She pulled her purse out from the seat in front of her, rooting around for the eye mask she was sure she’d shoved in there at some point. Seeing nothing would be better than seeing Lucien, even for a brief moment. Tampons, pads, her wallet, some old gum wrappers, but nothing.

“You don’t have an eye mask, do you?” she asked Nesta weakly.

Her sister shook her head. Across the aisle, Lucien reached into his bag and pulled out a crumbled package. “I think you gave one to me before we went to DC,” he said, holding it away from him with the tips of his fingers like it was diseased.

Elain took it, avoiding his eyes. The DC trip had only been a month before she’d left his stuff on the porch, when he’d been flown in to celebrate the candidate he’d been working for’s electoral success. Elain had worn a white dress that was so far out of her price range she’d been too scared to eat, lest she stain it, on loan from the designer. She’d spent hours on her makeup, preening, and had watched as Lucien shook hands with the top men in politics.

This is his future, she’d thought. And hers would be standing at his side looking pretty while the modeling jobs slowly dried up as she got older. She’d nearly sobbed at the thought.

Elain slid on the eye mask, desperate for anything to block out the flight, and slid in a pair of headphones. She was desperate for sleep, anything to make the flight pass quicker, but every time she came close to nodding off she became hyper aware that Lucien was probably watching her, was sitting right there, and would jolt awake.

She was so on edge she’d nearly jumped out of her seat when Nesta tapped her on the shoulder to tell her the flight attendant wanted her drink order, and had pulled off the mask only to see Lucien smirking at her.

Her face felt like it was on fire as she asked for a Diet Coke, even though she really wanted a shot of whiskey.

She’d only gotten more frustrated when Lucien ordered a scotch on the rocks. And had nursed it. Elain couldn’t help but look at his hands, and the stripe of lighter skin on his fourth finger from where he’d taken off his wedding ring.

She rubbed her own band self consciously. Maybe she should take it off, now that things were official. Her sisters knew, which meant Rhys knew, and so did the rest of their family dinners. No use pretending anymore.

Elain was pretty sure she’d get to keep the invitation over Lucien, but doubt nibbled at her. What if they like Lucien more than you? He and Feyre like to hang out sometimes, she could decide to pick her friend first. What if they decide to keep inviting both of you and you have to see him every week?

She took a sip of her soda to silence the thoughts. Which only alerted her to the fact that she needed to use the bathroom, and the only way to get to it was to pass by Lucien.

Elain nearly screamed in frustration.

Next to her, Nesta seemed to be going through a similar struggle, staring straight ahead at the bank tv screen in front of her while white knuckling her water.

She seemed to notice Elain watching her and signed. “Some sad sops we are,” she whispered and Elain cracked a smile.

“We can be crazy old cat ladies together,” Elain hissed back.

That got a small huff of laughter from Nesta. “I already know Mr. Mittens will love you more.”

“I’d always give him extra treats at dinner.”

“You’d make that cat fat,” Nesta giggled.

Cassian’s head whipped around to stare at them and she quickly sobered. “I didn’t know it was possible for Nesta Archeron to laugh,” he said dryly.

Nesta ignored him pointedly, while Lucien looked like he wanted to sink into his seat between them.

Elain closed her eyes again.

The rest of the flight was similarly miserable, and Elain cracked and got two little bottles of shitty airplane wine when the flight attendants came around with dinner. Lucien, thankfully, seemed perfectly content to pretend she didn’t exist. At least until the plane landed.

He stood, pulling his bag out of the overhead, and Elain tried very, very hard not to look at the way his biceps bulged at the weight.

“Goodbye Elain,” he said softly, once the suitcase wheels were on the ground. And then Lucien walked off the plane and out of her life without looking back.

Which Elain was perfectly fine with.

Her and Nesta gathered their bags, heading straight towards the ride share section of the parking lot. No more limos for them, vacation was well and truly over.

Nesta ordered the Uber to go to Elain’s place first, asking several times if Elain was sure she wanted to be alone before letting her go and taking off to her own apartment.

Elain swung open the door to the dark  house and dropped her luggage in the foyer before plodding into the living room. And almost tripped over the massive piece of furniture in the middle of the room.

Oh right, the stupid couch she’d ordered. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, a bit of suburban rebellion, and now here she was. With a giant pink sofa she couldn’t move herself and no one to help her.

Elain plopped down onto it heavily, the exhaustion of the last week hitting her, and sighed. If nothing else, at least it was a comfortable piece of furniture she couldn’t move. 

She knew she should go up to the bedroom, spend the night in a pathetic puddle there, but she couldn’t stand the idea of getting in the same bed she and Lucien had once shared now that she knew it was well and truly over. She bit down a sob at the idea.

“I know you’re not moping in there,” said a voice from the entry. Elain looked up to see Vassa standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

“Glad you feel comfortable letting yourself in.”

Vassa gave her a disapproving look.

“Maybe a little mopping,” Elain admitted.

Vassa sighed, joining her on the couch. “Lucien told us what happened.”

Elain pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “You probably think I’m an idiot.”

“I think you’re bad at communicating,” Vassa corrected. “But I would never say you’re an idiot.”

“Thank god for small mercies.”

“And,” Vassa continued, “I think you should talk to Lucien before tomorrow.”

Elain sighed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because he stormed up to his room and grabbed the divorce papers before talking to us, and is certain that he’s turning them in tomorrow morning.”

“Vassa—” Elain started.

“Which is something you’re both going to regret once you get your heads out of your respective asses.”

“According to you.”

“According to anyone with eyes,” Vase corrected. “Everyone but you can see how in love you both are with each other.”

“And what if love isn’t enough,” Elain demanded, standing up. “What then?” Because of course Vassa only saw the facade her and Lucien put up, that image of perfection she allowed the world to see. 

“Then maybe you are an idiot,” Vassa snapped.

“I thought girl code said you were supposed to be on my side,” Elain snarled, stopping into the kitchen. 

“Where are you going?” Vassa demanded.

“I want takeout,” Elain said, pulling the menu off the fridge from its place of glory. “Are you getting pad Thai or are you going home?”

“From the good place down the road?”

“Where else would I go?”

Vassa grinned. “I want wings too.”

Elain brandished her phone threateningly. “Are you going to keep your thoughts on Lucien to yourself?”

Vassa screwed up her face in a mockery of contemplation. “I can give you until tomorrow.”

“Fine.” Elain punched in the phone number of her favorite takeout place, having long since memorized it, knowing that was the best she was going to get out of Vassa.

-

She woke up on the couch, her head resting on Vassa’s hip. “You’re so bony,” she complained, sitting up and trying to stretch out the crick in her neck.

“You’re the one who insisted we watch both Mama Mias,” Vassa yawned.

“And you brought out the wine,” Elain countered, pulling out her phone to check her email. Just in case she missed anything important from Nesta.

Right at the top was one from Cassian. UNCORRECTED PROOF stared at her in big letters from the subject line.

“Did he work all night on this?” Elain asked, opening it before she could second guess herself.

Vassa peered over her shoulder. “Maybe he’s just as much a workaholic as Nesta. They should compare notes on the best caffeine to use,” she thought for a minute, “if they ever agree to be in the same room again.” Elain had filled Vassa in on the full details of their trip once their food had arrived, and she was deep enough in fried rice to drown her sorrows.

The title page was standard, one of the photos her and Lucien had taken on the beach with the title blazed over it. ‘Different Lives, Same Love? Two Honeymoons Three Years Apart.’ Elain felt her face heat at the implication of the title

“Your ass looks great,” Vassa said, and Elain scoffed, before scrolling down to the next page. Another picture of her and Lucien, the one they’d taken in the hammock, with her looking up at him while he peered down at her. Even through a phone screen, the longing in Lucien’s eyes took her breath away.

Vassa reached over to zoom in on the small white box of text, Mor’s name at the top indicating she wrote the article. Elain scanned it quickly, a brief overview of who she and Lucien were, and what had happened to get them back on the same honeymoon.

“When I met up with Elain and Lucien for the first time, I could tell things weren’t all perfect in paradise,” Vassa read out loud. “That’s an understatement.”

Elain sighed and sent to put the phone down—she trusted Nesta to deal with anything overly vital, and to call the landline Lucien had insisted on having if she was really needed—but Vassa snatched it out of her hand.

 Hoping to get a more complete picture, I reached out to Lucien after I returned back to the states,” Vassa continued.

“Oh good,” Elain sighed, “he can control the narrative. The poor, successful man left by his evil wife without reason.”

Vassa continued, undeterred, taking a step back to keep the phone out of Elain’s reach. “Elain and I have experienced up and downs in our two year marriage, as I’m sure all couples have. It’s obviously impossible to stay in a honeymoon period forever, despite how much I think we all wish we could. Nothing’s going to stay perfect forever.”

Elain buried her head in the couch. Here it was, Lucien telling Mor how badly it had all gone, even a little dig at her being perfect. 

“But I think what’s important when it comes to marriage is recognizing someone else’s flaws and finding beauty in them. Even after all these years, I tell Elain she’s perfect, not because I think she’s flawless but because, to me, those flaws only add to who she is, and I find that whole to be perfect.”

“Fuck.”

Vassa hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to Elain. “Have I told you you’re an idiot.”

“I’m an,” Elain half sobbed, half laughed, her eyes watering. “I’m so stupid.”

Vassa pulled Elain into an embrace.

“He hates me now,” Elain said, a single tear dripping down her nose.

Vassa sighed. “He doesn’t hate you. He could never hate you.”

“You didn’t see his face in the hotel,” Elain sniffed.

“I saw his face at home. And when he was writing that email to Mor.”

Elain bolted upright. “He wrote that now? As in after the trip now?”

Vassa nodded, confused. “When else would he have done it?”

Elain scrambled off the couch, searching wildly for her shoes. She’d assumed he’d done it some time after the interview, in the few hours things were still good in the Dominican Republic, but if he wrote it after they got back— New hope was filling her, and she quickly found her purse. “He wrote it now,” she repeated.

Vassa was standing in the foyer now, watching her with raised eyebrows. “And you’re running around now because—”

“I have to stop him from turning in the divorce papers,” Elain said, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Partially to deal with her  now greasy roots, partially because it felt fitting for the moment.

Vassa’s eyes widened, and she darted back to the kitchen to grab the keys she’d left on the counter. “I’m driving.”

Elain nodded, throwing the door open and racing out to Vassa’s parked car. “He wrote it now,” she said again, giddy. She could barely believe it.

-

Elain had never hated living in LA more. They’d been stuck in traffic for the past twenty minutes, stalled completely on the freeway with no hope of moving any time soon.

“Fuck,” Elain muttered, banging her head down on the dashboard.

“Did you text Nesta?” Vassa asked, inching the car up slightly.

“She’s on her way,” Elain said. Because if she couldn’t get there in time, maybe Nesta, with her downtown apartment, could. Nesta had answered almost immediately, promising to stall Lucien until she could be there. 

“Good,” Vassa said, turning on her blinker to merge over one lane. She cut off a red Dodge Charger with abandon, flipping off the driver when he honked at her.

“If me and Lucien get back together, I’m divorcing him again for making us move so far out,” Elain swore. “Who needs a single family home in the suburbs for two people?”

“Someone hoping for more than two people eventually.”

Elain glared at her. “It is way too early for that conversation.”

Vassa shrugged. “Might want to actually have a conversation about it though.”

Elain debated punching Vassa, but opted to take out her phone and check google maps for the fifteenth time. They were still well over thirty minutes away, with the red line indicating traffic all the way there.

“The only good news is that it’s backed up all the way down the freeway,” Vassa said, “so Lucien’s probably stuck too.”

“Knowing his luck he probably ended up in the one lane that’s actually moving,” Elain grumbled. She checked the map again.

“Check Lucien’s location,” Vassa suggested. “See how far out he is.”

“I can’t, he turned it off when he moved in with you.”

Vassa let out a truly impressive groan. “You said Helion liked you?”

“I think so, why?” Elain asked, only to shriek as Vassa pulled out onto the shoulder of the road and gunned it.

“Because I’m banking on him to pay for our lawyers,” Vassa said, ignoring the line of cars honking at them as they pulled off onto a ramp.

Elain held onto her seat for dear life as Vassa drove with reckless abandon, daring through too-narrow gaps between cars and onto the shoulder at will. “Ten minutes away,” she announced, checking her phone.

“Let’s make it five,” Vassa muttered, picking up speed. Elain screamed as they came dangerously close to clipping a motorcycle.

Several hair raising turns later, and the car came to a screeching halt in front of the sleek office building LA used as a courthouse. 

“Run,” Vassa shouted, unlocking the car door.

“Thank you,” Elain said, throwing off her seatbelt and hopping onto the sidewalk.

Nesta had indeed made it there before her, and was currently facing down both Cassian and Lucien with a look that could best be described as terrifying. Her arms were crossed over her chest, eyes murderous as she blocked the doorway. A line was forming behind her, waiting to get out, which she was completely ignoring.

“For the last time,” Lucien said, looking equally dangerous himself, “let me in so I can drop off the paperwork your sister signed.”

Nesta lifted her chin in defiance. “Not until she gets here.”

“Nesta,” Cassian said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “This is ridiculous. Sometimes things just don’t work out.”

Nesta shook her head. “I’m not letting Elain and Lucien fuck things up because they want to pretend something that was amazing was nothing.”

“Nesta,” repeated said, softer this time.

“I’m here,” Elain panted, sliding between Lucien and Cassian to take Nesta’s spot. All three of them blinked at her in surprise, as if they hadn’t actually expected her to show up.

Nesta slowly unfurled from her position, stepping aside. Elain smiled at her in thanks before turning to Lucien. “I’m sorry,” she said, “that I was stupid and I didn’t communicate with you. But I’m asking to talk now, before we finalize things.”

Lucien checked his watch. “You have two minutes,” he said. “And then I’m turning the paperwork in so I can at least pretend I’m getting to the office today.”

Elain nodded, grateful he gave her anything. “I should have talked to you. I shouldn’t have acted like everything was fine when it wasn’t. And I should have realized that before I read some stupid article in a stupid magazine.”

“Hey,” Cassian protested, but both Elain and Lucien ignored him.

“I’m sorry too,” Lucien said, avoiding her eye contact. I should have realized how you felt.”

“I should have told you,” Elain said. “Instead of expecting you to read my mind.”

Lucien met her gaze now, face softening. “No I should—” he started but Elain cut him off with a shake of her head.

“Let me be wrong for once,” she practically snarled and Lucien cracked a half smile. “Or more than once. Let me be wrong all the time.”

Lucien laughed at that. “Noted. Elain Archeron wants to be wrong as much as possible.”

Elain gave him a tentative smile. Laughing was a good sign, right? “And,” she added, “do you think you could let me be wrong in the same house as you?”

Lucien just stared at her, eyebrows raised.

“Fuck,” Elain sighed. “I had this whole thing planned out in the car and none of it’s coming out right and—”

Lucien interrupted her by wrapping a hand around her waist and pulling her in close. “What you’re saying is that you want me to come home?”

“Yes,” Elain said. “And that I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Lucien said, tracing her jaw with his hand and lifting her face up to meet his.

The kiss he gave her was a light one, just the barest brush of lips before he pulled back a hair.

“I think we should get out of here before your sister and Cassian get arrested for public indecency.”

Elain looked over her shoulder to see that Cassian had Nesta pressed firmly against the glass wall, her hairs buried in his hair.

“I guess her apology worked too,” Elain said lightly, stepping out of Lucien’s loose embrace. “We should take your car, since I think Vassa’s trying to evade the LAPD right now.”

Lucien didn’t even look surprised as he pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. “I’ll ask for Helion’s lawyer,” he sighed.

Elain grinned, taking a step past him towards the parking garage. In the glass wall she could just make out the reflection of Lucien mouthing a silent yes while pumping his fist.

“I can see you,” Elain said.

Lucien straightened quickly, righting his shirt. “Coming”

Elain laughed, reaching behind her to take his hand in hers and pulling him behind her.

-#elucien#elucien fanfiction#elucien fanfic#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#elain archeron#lucien vanserra

It was a small miracle they made it home in one piece, with how distracted Lucien was the entire ride, his hand on his thighs. Elain, of course, was no help, peppering kisses up his arm and shoulder.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Elain said, once they made it to the door after an extended makeup session across the center console.

“You have no idea,” Lucien said, opening the door Elain had apparently forgotten to lock in her rush out of the house. He backed her into the living room, until they ran into the couch. Lucien raised an eyebrow at the pink monstrosity currently sitting in the middle of their house.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Elain confessed.

“I like it,” Lucien said, scoping Elain up to deposit her on the armrest.

“It’s not very senatorial,” Elain said. “If you ever have to do any press in the house.”

“Who cares,” Lucien pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I think it’s better for the hypothetical electoral body to see a different side of me than something perfect. If I even get nominated since I’m definitely not making it back to the office today. Or tomorrow.” He gave Elain a suggestive look.

Heat filled her core and she twisted her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. “Kiss me, please.”

Lucien obliged eagerly, dipping her back, one hand resting on her back to keep her from falling off the couch arm. Elain worked her hand under his shirt, tugging up so she could run her hands down the planes of his chest, but he rested his other hand on hers.

“Wait,” Lucien said. “I want to talk for a second.” 

Crushing disappointment filled Elain, but she pulled back anyway.

“If we’re going to do this, upend our lives for me run for an office I still don’t fully know I want, I have to know how you feel.” The look Lucien was giving her was pure earnestness. “If you’re not in one hundred percent, I don’t run.”

Elain pulled him into a hug. “I think you should go for it. You would be such a good politician, actually caring about people.”

“But what do you want?” Lucien insisted.

Elain blinked at him. She couldn’t actually remember the last time someone had asked her that. Nesta told her what she should do, and frequently, and Lucien always seemed content to follow along with that, but he’d never fully come out and asked.

“I don’t want to quit my job, not yet, but I might want to go back to school, at least part time, work on my degree. Just to say I have one. California has really good community colleges and I could probably transfer to a school near DC if I need to. I know it would be hard but—”

“Yes,” Lucien said. “If that’s what you want to do then you should. Find the best program for biology you can and I’ll follow you there.”

“But your job—”

“I’ll make the campaign fly me in every week,” Lucien promised. “Won’t be close to the most egregious finance violation.”

Elain smiled up at him tentatively. “I think that would be perfect.”

“I love you,” Lucien said, releasing her hands and letting them return to their roaming of his chest.

Elain let herself fall back on the couch, pulling Lucien with her. “I love you too.”

And then she kissed him, glad that he could be with her in their house, on the new piece of furniture. The same and different love.

[destiel-the-one-and-only]

Slice of Life

Warnings -> 18+ content, mdni, violence, death, slight horror, crime committing, usual supernatural things Authors Note -> I really wanted to do a short on Cas and Dean on a hunt together, so welcome to my very first slice of life fic! Hope you enjoy !!

Dean awoke to the smell of coffee wafting into his room. He opened his eyes to Cas standing in the doorway with two mugs in his hand, a routine of theirs when Sam was gone. He was in California, chasing a lead of his own, something about a Crocotta making phone calls again. Dean wasn't quite sure, Sam was somewhat erratic before he left.

"I found us a case, Dean. A couple drained of blood in Winona, Minnesota."

"Okay, get the car packed, I'll be out in thirty minutes." Cas turned to leave the room. "Cas. The coffee please."

"Oh, yes, sorry Dean." Cas set the coffee on his bedside table and took off towards the armory. He loaded the duffel bags with blades, two pistols, and a few vials of dead man's blood. From the news report, it sounded like a vampire to Cas. Thirty minutes later, Dean emerged from his room in his usual jeans, t-shirt, and button up. He had his personal duffel slung over his shoulder and the empty coffee cup in his other hand. Cas wasn't very good at cooking, but coffee, he understood coffee.

Dean and Cas loaded into Baby and started off their drive. It was 8 hours, and as much as Cas wanted to zap them there, Dean insisted on driving. 'It's the driving that makes the hunt, Cas' he had said. After three hours of open road, they rolled up to a small gas station. Dean gave Cas thirty dollars to get pie, beef jerky, a soda, and gas with whatever was left, while Dean went to the bathroom around the back. Coming back to Castiel in the car, Dean pumped their gas, and started their trip again.

AC/DC played over the radio as the two men pulled up to the police station. Now in suits, they gathered their FBI badges and entered the station, heading towards the morgue.

"Hi there, Agent Smith, this is my partner Agent Smith, no relation. We were curious about the couple that were drained two days ago?" Dean asked the morgue doctor.

"Yeah, right this way. It's unusual, agent. I've never seen anything like this before." she said as she led them down the hall.

"Did you notice anything weird about the body, you know other than the missing blood?"

"Yeah, I did. Two holes on his neck, right under his ear. Take a look for yourself." She pulled back the cover, revealing a graying body. "It's like someone stuck two needles in his neck right before he died."

"Yeah, that is weird," Dean replied, exchanging a knowing look with Castiel. "Well, thank you, doctor. We will be in touch if we need anything else. Have a nice day."

Cas and Dean went back to the car, and left for the motel. After getting checked in and unpacking, they sat down at the small table to do their research.

"Our victims are Britney and Spencer Paul, married for two years, and they were on a camping trip when the vampire killed them. I thought vampires stuck to more populated areas." Cas started off.

"Not always. Nests usually do just because it's easier for them to find shelter and food, but rogue vampires absolutely hunt in the woods."

"We should start looking in the forest then Dean."

"That's a good idea Cas. You go do that, and I will get us some burgers and go talk to the family."

Cas and Dean went their separate ways for the time being. Cas went off to the forest where the couple was last seen alive. It was still day out, but the trees made it seem much darker. Cas felt alone, a little too alone, without Dean here. He felt vulnerable, which for an angel was weird. Everything was scared of them, not the other way around. It turned out to be a bust, Cas found no trace of a vampire, or even anything happening at the campground.

Dean on the other hand, found something. He spoke to the family, undercover as a journalist, and heard things he already knew. Leaving and heading towards the local burger joint, he tried calling Cas, only to realize he left his phone in the car. He started towards the burger place while the last hour of sunlight shined on his back and was hit on the head with a wooden board upon entering.

Waking up to find himself tied to a chair, Dean struggled against his restraints. He wasn't sure what happened, but knew it was the vampire they were hunting. He wasn't sure how long he had been out, but it was dark outside now, so it had to have been at least an hour.

Cas arrived back at the motel, expecting to see his partner there waiting with food. Cas was instead greeted by the sight of Dean's car missing from the parking lot, no food, and an empty room. Cas panicked for a moment before calming himself and remembering what Dean said earlier. 'I'm getting us burgers' or something like that. Cas decided to go to the burger shop to see if Dean was caught up there.

When Cas arrived at the restaurant, he found Dean's car in the parking lot, duffel bag still in the trunk. Cas worried, knowing it should not have ever taken this long to talk to family and get food. He slid his angel blade down his sleeve and into his palm. He entered the shop with caution, weary as to what was awaiting him beyond the door.

Nobody was in the front of the store, and after doing a full sweep, Cas made his way back to the kitchen. Upon entering, he found Dean tied to the chair. "Thank God you found me Cas. The vampire was never in the woods." Dean was cut loose by his angel partner, and they began searching for the vampire. Dean walked lowly and quietly awaiting any type of movement.

Cas continued to walk forward, not paying much attention to his surroundings. Dean yelled 'LOOK OUT' ras the vampire popped around a corner, going straight for Cas. He reacted quickly stabbing the vampire in the chest with his angel blade, and stepped back for Dean to cut the head off.

After they buried the body, they stopped in a bar for a couple drinks, to try and blow off some steam. They drank, talked, laughed, and played darts before finally heading back to the motel for the night. Waking up the next morning, Dean packed up the car, checked out of the motel, and started his 8 hour drive home with Castiel in the passenger seat holding a full pie.

[asirensrage]

Caught in the Crossfire - 3/53

Title: Caught in the Crossfire Rating: M Pairings: Michelle (OC) x Sam side pairing: Kelly (OC) x Dean Fandom: Supernatural. Includes characters from BtvS, The Darkest Powers Series by Kelley Armstrong, True Blood, Veronica Mars, X-Men, Harry Potter Warnings: PTSD, trauma, violence, murder, loss of time, demonic possession, mentions of starvation, anger, slow burn, learning to fight and survive Summary: Takes place during s5. Michelle was just trying to gain some semblance of normality. She didn’t expect to be a part of a fail-safe for the apocalypse. Reuniting with her best friend who should be dead, she struggles with trying to survive this world while being forced into a position that has her taking care of others who also don’t belong. She just wants to go home.

Notes: and we're back to Michelle's POV

also on ffn and ao3

Chapter 3: Balance and Solidarity

You get nothin' for nothin' Tell me who can you trust - If You Want Blood (You Got It) by AC/DC

   I woke up slowly. It felt like I had slept for weeks. My head felt groggy. My eyes felt like they were sealed shut. I rubbed them hard to get them open. I was lying on the cot in the panic room. It was still real. It wasn’t a dream. 

     I sat up slowly. Despite not feeling anywhere near awake, I felt okay. I didn’t feel like everything hurt, or that I was suffering from starvation. It was odd. I stood up and I didn’t feel like I was going to fall. 

     I looked around the room. The cold iron was comfortable to have around me, but I headed to the door. I needed to figure out what was happening. I needed to find Kelly.

     The door was open. The basement was ominous when it was empty. I headed up the stairs. When I got to the top, I paused. Kelly was coming in the back door with Dean following her. 

     “Kels?” 

     She grinned at me. “Mish!” She walked up to me. I hugged her tightly. I felt her stiffen before she hugged me back. “This is weird,” she muttered. 

     “I wasn’t sure you were real,” I said. “I thought I was dreaming.”

     “Hey, it’s okay,” she whispered. “We’re okay. We gotta whole lot of weird to deal with, but we’re okay.” 

     I let go and pulled back. “What happened?” 

     “You’ve been asleep for two days. Castiel knocked you out.” She looked back at Dean.

     “He healed you,” Dean said. “Least, physically.” I nodded. That explained how I felt okay, at least, to a point. 

     “Hey, not to like...push things,” Kelly said, looking over at Dean. “But we kind of need a huge favour. I smell. Jane smells. Mish...definitely smells.”  I went to protest then stopped myself. She wasn’t wrong. “We need to go shopping for essentials. I don’t know about them, but I didn’t need to change as a ghost. Pretty sure that Jane stole the clothes she’s wearing.” Kelly looked at me.

     “I didn’t have time to grab anything. I left with what I had,” I tried not to think about the diner and how I only had time to run. 

     “We’ll...also need to use your credit cards.” 

     “Right,” Dean said. He looked both of us over before he nodded. “I’ll grab Sam. Find Jane and meet us at the car.” 

     My eyes widened and I looked at Kelly. “ The car?” 

     “Oh god,” Kelly muttered. She looked at Dean. “Now you’ve done it.” She turned back to me. “Best friend comes back from the dead, you’re merely happy. Get to ride in the Impala? Exuberant. I see where I stand.” I hit her, smacking her shoulder with my hand. It felt instantly like she had never left. My throat tightened, remembering what it was like when she died. 

     “Five minutes!” I jumped at Dean’s voice as he moved past us. 

     “Mish, you’re starting to scare them.” 

     I jolted out of my staring. “Sorry,” I muttered. The car was beautiful. It was pretty much exactly what it looked like in the show. I stepped forward. Both the men were watching. “I’m sorry,” I said louder. “It’s just...it’s a beautiful car.” 

     Dean grinned and nodded. “Damn right she is. Get in.” 

     Sam opened the back passenger door. Jane entered first, looking around the car slowly. I went next and Kelly came in after me. I looked around. The leather bench seats felt real and there were some wrappers on the floor. I couldn’t stop my excitement. It still felt surreal but for a second, it was almost like I could forget everything that brought me here. I leaned over the front seat as the boys got in. 

     “Dean! Can you play AC/DC and blast it?” I asked. I heard Sam groan but Dean gave a small laugh and popped in a tape. The sound of TNT came on and I started to sing along. 

     “I thought you were terrible at staying awake in cars?” Kelly half yelled. She had never been a fan of loud music. 

     “I am!” I yelled back. She sighed, closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window. The music would help keep me awake. 

     Jane leaned over from next to me. “I do not understand your affection for this noise.” 

     “It’s not noise,” I said. “It’s music. Good music.” 

     “Hell yeah!” Dean said up at the front, banging his hands against the steering wheel to the beat. The music continued without further protest. After a few songs, the car finally slowed to a stop. We were in front of a Walmart. 

     “We’re here.” Sam turned to face us. “Go in, get what you need and we’ll call you. Here.” He started to hand a cellphone to Jane before he realized who it was and gave it to me. “Take my cell. We’ll be back in a bit to pay for everything.” 

     Kelly opened her eyes and sat up. “You aren’t coming in?” I paused. I hadn’t considered that. I looked out the window. There were people in there. People who didn’t know about the truth of this world, people who could be things that weren’t human. 

     “You need us to hold your hands?” Dean looked over the seat. “Unless you’re planning on running off, you don’t need us standing ‘round while you shop. We’re going for food. We’ll be back in half an hour. If anyone else but me calls, you don’t answer.” He pointed at me. I nodded automatically. “Now go!” 

     Kelly turned and opened the door. I didn’t move. There was so much that could go wrong. Jane pushed on my back. I went out slowly. 

     The boys drove off and I stared at the store, instantly regretting coming. I should have just told them to buy me things and to guess at the size. There were too many people here.

     “Hey,” I looked over at Kelly. “It’ll be okay.”

     “Yeah,” I said. I didn’t tell her that the thought of going in there, being surrounded by people who could be anything, was making my heart pound and my palms sweat. “Let’s get this over with quickly.” 

     I stared at the mirror. It was odd looking at myself. My brown hair fell limp against my head.  My cheeks were a little sunken. I used to think my eyes were my best feature. Now they just looked haunted. 

     Nothing fit. Not like it was supposed to. I had never been thin back home, but the stress of this world had played havoc on me. I used to wear a large in shirts because of my stomach and chest. Now it felt too big. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the size of my feet. 

    “Michelle?” I jumped slightly at Kelly’s voice. I hadn’t wanted either of them out of sight, but that didn’t work when it came to trying on clothes. “You done?”

     “Yeah,” I opened the change room door. “I need new sizes though.”

     “In what?”

     “Everything.”

     “Really?” she looked me up and down. “Well, I guess you are thinner. Come on,” she said. “I need you to help me convince Jane to wear a bra.”  

     “What?”

     “She says, and I quote, the contraptions are confusing and a binding is easier.”

     “Where is she now?” I asked.

     “At the knives. She tried stuff on and once it fit, she left it in my basket. She’s still wearing the bindings but I took the bras in her size and added it to the stuff.” Kelly motioned to a cart she had next to her. “Come on, let’s grab the sizes you need and find her before the boys call. She’s demanding we grab work out clothes or clothes you can move freely in.”

     “What? Why?”

     “Hell if I know!” Kelly raised her hands in the air and then dropped them. She looked frustrated, which was understandable. “Come on, we also need essentials. Like toothbrushes and deodorant. Don’t tell the guys but I’ve been using whoever’s deodorant is in the bathroom. I smell like a dude.”

     “It’s probably Bobby’s…” 

     “Eh…” she shrugged. “Then he’s even less likely to know or complain. Come on, maybe we can freak the guys out and buy a ton of tampons. After all we are three girls and it's bound to happen eventually.”

     By the time the boys had called and found us, we were ready to go.

     “You sure you got everything?” Dean asked, looking at the full cart. “You don’t need more? Like the kitchen sink?”

     “What’d you expect with three women who literally only have the clothes on their backs?” Kelly said.

     “You guys didn’t even get coats,” he said, peering into the cart. 

     “We got coats. And layers.” She pulled out one of the thin coats we had grabbed. It was more of a fall type of coat. 

     “It’s freaking freezing outside and you’re telling me you just got that?” 

     Kelly and I both looked at each other.

     “It’s not that cold?” I phrased it like a question even if I didn’t mean it that way. 

     “It’s twenty degrees!” Dean looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

     I frowned. “What? It’s not hot out.”

     “He means Fahrenheit,” Kelly said leaning towards me. “It’s like...maybe minus ten?”

     “Dean,” Sam said. The cashiers were watching us now. “They’re Canadian, remember?” 

     “Yeah,” Kelly said. “This isn’t cold. I mean, it’s cold, but it’s not fuck my face cold.”

     “Oh yeah,” I said. “Now that’s cold.” Both the boys stared at us in shock. 

      “Don’t worry, if we need to, I’m sure we can come back, right?” she grinned at him, “this is a relationship I could get used to.”

     Dean turned away, grumbling under his breath as the cashier rang everything up. I would have felt bad if I hadn’t known they were using a credit card with a fake name. There was no plan to actually pay for any of this. 

     The cashier was flirting with Dean while giving us dismissive once overs. Everyone in the store had given us looks, though not as much as they would have in any other place. We were not the oddest thing in Walmart. Another woman came up to the cashier, smiling and looking over at Sam. I leaned over to Kelly.

     “I think the environment’s getting a little hostile,” I tried to tease. It didn’t quite feel right but I was just trying to relieve some of the tension I felt. 

     Kelly rolled her eyes. “No kidding.” She made a face as one of the women laughed and I tried not to smile at it. Instead, I turned to Sam and handed him back the phone that I was still holding.

     “Here.”

     “Thanks,” he took it and quickly pocketed it. “You get used to it,” he said.

     “Hmm?” I looked up at him, not entirely sure what he meant.

     He motioned at Dean and the cashiers. “Them. It takes longer but he’s flirting and they haven’t noticed that they haven’t actually scanned everything they’re passing through.”

     “Oh!” I had never even thought of that. Dean flirting with you would be a distraction. I turned to look and sure enough, the girl flirting back didn’t notice when one of the shirts she slid over the scanner didn’t scan.  “Wow.”

     “Yeah,” he said. “It usually works, though occasionally not well with certain old ladies.”

     I snorted, then covered my mouth with my hand trying to hide my giggles. I could see Kelly looking at me confused but I could perfectly imagine Dean trying and failing to flirt with an old lady. It felt like forever since I had laughed. I stopped, realizing the truth in that. I definitely hadn’t laughed since I left the diner but before that…before that was rare too. Even before leaving my world, I didn’t laugh much after Kelly died. 

     The shower was heaven. I didn’t realize how filthy I was until I kept washing. I eventually had to force myself to stop. Scrubbing my skin raw wasn’t going to erase the memories that were burned into me. 

     I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the demon was waiting for me. The memories of the blood and the bodies were there. I looked around the dark room that Bobby had offered up to us. Kelly had dragged me upstairs to force me to shower and catch up. She had passed out while I had showered. I didn’t want to leave her, but I couldn’t sleep. She was sprawled across the bed and facing away from me. I stared at her for a moment, watching her breathe. It was still real. She was still here. 

     I climbed over her carefully. Jane wasn’t in the room but there were sounds coming from the main floor. I went to the washroom to clean up before I headed down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. It wasn’t that I wanted to hide my presence, but I hadn’t had much interaction with the men outside of the first meeting and shopping. I was far too aware that people generally said more than they intended to when they didn’t realize you could hear them.  

     It wasn’t anything more than “pass me that book”. I moved closer. I caught sight of the clock. It was just after two in the morning. It didn’t feel like we had been upstairs that long. I didn’t want to intrude on the men. I just...I couldn’t be in the dark anymore. Even if it was slightly better feeling someone sleeping next to me, it just brought me back to nights alone. I couldn’t stay in that room, but I didn’t really have anywhere to go. I wanted Kelly to wake up so I wasn’t alone. 

     “You gonna stand there all day or come in?” I looked up, startled at Bobby’s voice. I had made it to the doorway without realizing it. 

     “Yeah, sorry,” I said, quickly stepping into the room. “I just…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

     “Keep moving,” Dean appeared behind me, beer in hand. He ushered me further into the room before walking around me. “We have some questions for you.”

     “Questions?”

     Dean sat down in a chair and looked up at me. All of them were sitting and looking at me. It was a little surreal and really unnerving. Anxiety started to creep up my spine. 

     Sam stood up. “Why don’t you sit down?” He moved a stack of books off of a chair before pushing the chair towards me.

     “Thanks,” I said. I stayed standing. It felt like I was being ganged up on already and my body was gearing up, as if ready to run. “What questions?”

     Dean leaned forward. “How old are you?”

     “What’s that got to do with anything?” I asked, confused at the topic. 

     “Fact-checking,” he said.

     I frowned. That didn’t make any sense. “Fact…” I looked at all of them, watching their expressions when it clicked. “Like a lie detector. You already know the answers, but you want to see if I’ll give the same ones.” I scoffed and shook my head.

     “Answer the question.”

     Anger welled up in me and I suddenly pictured taking up the book near him and hitting him with it, over and over, just to make him stop looking at me like that. Like I was something he needed to hunt. I shoved the intrusive thought out of my head and took a deep breath. I could work with this.

     “Only if you answer mine,” I said. I waited as the brothers looked at each other before Dean nodded. “I’m twenty-seven. Where in the timeline are we?” They looked confused so I elaborated. “How long ago did you release Lucifer out of the cage?”

     Sam shifted in his seat before answering quietly. “About four months ago.”

     I nodded. The timeline was confusing. It didn’t match up with the show if Kelly was already into the next season. I remembered what Kelly said about how long I was gone. Time worked differently. 

     “How did you get into…this world?” Sam asked. I frowned at him. I told this story. This had to be more fact-checking. A good way to see if people were telling the truth was to ask them the same question at different times, see if they had the same answer.

     “I walked,” I said. “I was job hunting, walking around and handing out resumes. Not a lot of work for someone who dropped out of a university master’s program. Least, nowhere I wanted to work. I walked out of a store and suddenly I was just on a dirt road. There was no sign of anything. I didn’t even realize the scenery was different until after I took that step. I looked back and there was just…more road.” I stared at the bookshelf, thinking back into the moment. I had panicked. I had screamed. I was just so confused.

     “You didn’t feel anything?”

     I jolted out of my thoughts, looking around the room as I remembered where I was. Sam was leaning forwards, his arms on his knees and a concerned look on his face.

     I shook my head. “No. It was just one second in the city and the next somewhere I had never even seen before.” My throat tightened. The fear from that moment had never quite left. I tried to change the subject. “What happened after I...after Castiel knocked me out? Is there a plan?”

     “You’re staying here,” Bobby said. “For now.” There was a slight threat lingering there but I didn’t pay any mind to it. That was understandable. I opened my mouth to thank him but he stopped me. “Don’t thank me just yet. We still don’t know why you’re here…or how to get you home.”

     Home. I swallowed tightly and clenched my jaw. I took a deep breath. Gods, all I wanted was to go home. To tell my family I was alive and that I was okay. Sort of. I tried not to think about the fact that it might not be possible. 

     “What happened after that?”

     I looked sharply at Dean. “I already told you that.”

     “So tell it again,” he said.

     “Dean…” Sam called out. Both of us ignored him.

     “No,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. “When you said you wanted to ask questions, I figured it was something about what I knew about you. Not the Spanish inquisition. I didn’t agree to be put on trial.”

     “That’s not what’s happening here,” Sam said.

     “Isn’t it?” I snapped, looking at him. “You waited until I was alone, most likely still sleep-deprived despite being put into a coma by an angel, and traumatized considering what you know I’ve been through so far so that you could force whatever truth you want out of me? Way to go. Points to you for trying to take advantage of what I’ve dealt with so far.” I gave a hard smile before turning to walk away. I had enough.

     “Michelle,” Jane stood in the entranceway to the room. Her red curls were wild, looking as if she had been running through trees and had caught pieces of them in it. I had no idea how long she had been there or how much she heard. “You’re awake. I wish to speak with you.” I tried not to sigh. So did everyone it seemed.

     “Wait your turn darling,” Dean said from behind me. “We’re not done.”

     “The hell we aren’t,” I snapped.

     Jane walked towards me and looked at the men. “I care not for your trivial words, man-child. I wish to speak with her and so I shall. Presently.” Jane took my wrist and pulled me out of the room. She let go once we were in the hallway but motioned for me to follow her. She led me out of the house. The air was crisp and I could almost see my breath. I went as far as the porch.  

     She stopped once she realized I was not following further. She sat down on the ground at the bottom of the stairs and motioned for me to join her. I sat on the top stair and waited. I didn’t know her. I had no idea what she wanted, but I was nervous. Again, I wished Kelly was with me.

     “What did you want to speak about?” I finally asked.

     “You were uncomfortable,” she leaned back on her hands. “No man should make a woman uncomfortable. If we were in my world, he would pay for the disservice.”

     I stared at her for a moment. Woman solidarity transcended worlds. I had to admit, that was kind of cool. “Thanks.” She nodded in return and it was silent for a moment before I spoke again. “Why outside?”

     Jane seemed to sigh. “This world is stifling. All these…machines and steel. You take no pride in what the Goddess gifts you and your world is lacking.” She looked up to the sky. “The stars will not even shine here.” I watched her for a moment. There was a look on her face that almost seemed sad and resigned. She looked back at me. “Despite this, I am more free outside, more connected to the earth than when I am within those walls.”

     “Will you tell me about your world?” I asked.

     She smiled and it seemed to lighten her entire face. She suddenly looked so much younger than I expected. “It is very different from this one. We do not have these barriers between ourselves and the earth, nor do we have the same machines. All are welcomed and cherished by the Goddess. Women are the leaders of our clans; we hunt and provide for our young ones and the ones who cannot care for themselves any longer….”

     The sun rose as we spoke. Everything in Jane’s world sounded rather primitive compared to what I was used to…but also nice. You could hear how much she cared for her community, and it was a community. They took care of each other in their clans. A cooperative living environment. Something that would rarely happen in our society, and if it did, would be looked down upon by others. It sounded like I would have been much safer had I landed in her world instead of this one.

     It also explained a lot about Jane. She was a leader in her clan, in line to become the head. A skilled hunter and fighter, often in the front lines of any skirmishes they had with other clans or animals. It made me wonder.

     “What do you think of this? Of…being here?”

     She didn’t hesitate before answering. “It is a trial from my Goddess and I will prove myself worthy of her.” She looked determined, and I was tempted to dig further, to know why she thought this was a test and if she thought we’d ever return. I just wanted someone to know and she seemed so confident that I would believe her. Or pretend I did.

     My stomach growled suddenly and Jane looked at me sharply. She stood up quickly.

     “You need sustenance. Go, find yourself food. If they deny you it, inform me. I do not trust these men and I shall deal with them if I must.”

     “I’m sure it won’t come to that,” I said as I stood up. “Despite everything, they are good men. They’re just…stressed. Like all of us.” I gave her a small smile. “Thank you.” She nodded at me and I turned and walked inside.

     I passed Sam in the hallway who was on the phone, heading towards the back door. I walked into the kitchen and stiffened. I forgot it was connected to the library. Dean was leaning into the fridge. He looked up when he heard me and straightened. I pressed my lips together as we both tried to figure out how to proceed. I took a deep breath and tried to let go of any residual anger that I felt from earlier. It wouldn’t do any good.

     “Got anything light to eat?” I asked tentatively. An awkward peace offering if any.

     “Uh, not really,” he looked back in the fridge. He looked up at me, confused. “Can’t you eat normal? Cas healed you.” 

     I hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t know. I...I haven’t eaten in days. Better safe than sorry,” I shrugged. The thought of eating felt strange after days of trying to scavenge. 

     He seemed to think about it, his head tilted as he nodded. “Soup?” 

     I sighed before nodding. “Sure. I’ll try it.”

     “Cans are on the shelf next to the sink. Pots under it.” He motioned. He finally closed the fridge and poured himself a cup of coffee. It didn’t look fresh. 

     I opened the cupboards, looking at the cans of soup. Suddenly, the thought of making food exhausted me. I closed the cupboard and opened one after another until I found cups. I grabbed some water from the sink and leaned against the counter. I drank one cup and then another. I held back on drinking more. I knew better than to drink too quickly, I just wanted the hunger to subside.

     “Not eating?” Dean was staring at me, taking a sip of his drink.

     I shook my head before looking at him. “I’m tired. Can’t be bothered to make anything.”

     Dean made a noise as if he agreed. “Sam’s grabbing food.”

     I nodded, though it wasn’t likely it’d be anything I could eat, or wanted to. “I’ll make soup later.”

     He didn’t say anything but didn’t leave either. It was awkward and I felt like I should say more. I could see Bobby in the library. Sam, I assumed, was gone. I had no idea if Jane was where I left her. I pushed away from the counter, put the glass in the sink and walked away.

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @nejires-hado @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

[skylights-not-stars]

lessons i learned growing up: i was eight when my mom and my sister and i were sitting at a bus stop i think, when some guy came up to say "those're  some pretty girls you got, miss, you've got to be careful All the boys'll be chasing them one day" i'm sure smiled and acted polite, because that's what we were taught always please-and-thank-you-and-excuse-me-my-fault perfect training for the rest of my life a perfect daughter or a perfect wife an object for boys to chase and use a mouse on the run with a cat on the loose. but don't worry— it's just because they like you.

i was thirteen when the boys sitting behind me in the bleachers touched my shirt and bra and then walked away. but they probably just liked me, i should take it as a compliment and really, i should put it in perspective it;s not exactly like i was raped, i should just get over it my case is clean cut and simple and 'lucky,' at a glance. maybe if i dressed in long-shirts-and-sweaters-and-baggy-pants and sat-with-friends-and-stayed-quiet-and-always-sit-at-the-back-of-the-room they'd leave me alone. (idliketogohomeidliketogohomeidliketogohomeNOW) and someone told me boys will be boys, they'll learn their lesson.

i was fifteen when walking to the coffee shop across from my dance studio, a man on the street called out to me "lookin good, gorgeous!"i kept walking, my sweatpants and hoodie like twenty foot tall beacons showing me off. and i was too scared to say anything back boys will be-- men will be men, better just to ignore it, after all, it happens to everyone.

i am sixteen and the supreme court is deciding whether women, whether girls can abort, and six men and three women decide whether all women are more than an eight-by-five piece of flesh and tissue. so the next day my mom picked up her car keys and told my sister and me to make some signs before driving us up an hour to washington dc to see how to finally, finally, use our voices. and they're joined by a thousand others around us-

when human rights are under attack, what do we do?

stand up, fight back.

to the eight year old girl who was just a pretty toy for some unknown boy (who'll never exist) you'll grow up stronger, you'll learn to resist.

when human rights are under attack, what do we do?

Stand Up, Fight Back.

to the thirteen year old who's still haunted by the skin that she thought she'd flaunted but the truth is it's the boy whos at fault always has been, always was.

When Human rights are under Attack, what do we do?

STAND UP FIGHT BACK!

to the sixteen year old standing right here, right now, there is not any power i lack. and the hurt and the anger that always erodes my confidence after being beaten by wave after wave has been built back again and i swear to GOD it won't cave so Listen here, listen now cus this isn't about writing a poem for class hell, i'm not even in it— it's about being a part of a change that lasts.

can you feel it?

[the-atlas-sister]

ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ (ɪʟʟᴜᴍɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

You sat in the busy bar next to Ilumi, both of you just drinking quietly. Although, you knew if either of you were to try and speak- you wouldn't be able to hear each other due to the loud music.

Now, the relationship between you and the oldest Zodlyck son was a complicated one. You weren't exactly dating but it wasn't just hooking up either.

Neither of you would complain though. You felt content just being with Illumi, finding his silence and protective aura reassuring. And Illumi found your kindness and loving nature refreshing.

"I should go," you said, finishing your drink.

Illumi looked at you. He was disappointed, wanting to spend more time with you but nodded. "Right," he said, although you couldn't hear his soft-spoken voice over the music.

You stood up, grabbing your purse, Illumi standing up as well. "...I enjoy being with you," he said, although you still couldn't hear him.

"What?" you asked, stepping closer to him.

"I enjoy spending time with you," Illumi said, raising his voice. You smiled slightly.

"I enjoy spending time with you as well, Illumi," you said. "Perhaps we should meet in a park next."

"That sounds much more enjoyable," Illumi agreed. "I'll pick you up." He picked up your hand cautiously and kissed your knuckles.

You smiled, flushing with embarrassment at the small gesture.

Illumi's POV

Illumi watched as Y/N walked out of the bar, a few of the men and women you passed staring at you as you left, making him narrow his eyes at them. Three of the men watched you walk out the door before following you.  

Bloodlust dripped off Illumi as they did, making everyone in the bar stiffen.

He used his assassin speed to follow you and the men. He jumped onto one of the rooftops that you walked under.

Your POV

You walked through the quiet and dark streets of York New City. Most young women would feel scared walking alone at night but you felt perfectly safe. Illumi would always follow you home, making sure you got there safely. It was creepy at first, but you had gotten used to it, even finding a sense of safety under the Zoldyck's watch.

"Hey, babygirl," a drunken voice said from behind you. You ignored it and kept walking. "Hey!" the voice said again.

"My friend was talking to you," another male voice said. You felt someone roughly grab your arm and pull you back.

"Please leave me alone," you said. Despite the way they were treating you, you feared for these men's lives. You could feel Illumi's bloodlust from where you stood.

"What's wrong baby?" the man who had grabbed you asked, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I said leave me alone," you said, staring at the two men in front of you with an expressionless face. "For your own safety."

"Oooh hoo hoo," the men chuckled. "Big talk kitten," the man behind you whispered in your ear.

You let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes. "Your all going to die," you stated matter-of-factly.

"That was hot," one of the men in front of you said, biting his lip as his eyes scanned your body.

You noticed Illumi jump down from a building, landing behind the two men. "Illumi, no, it's fine," you said, looking at him.

"Hey man," the guy behind you said, looking at Illumi. "Wanna join us with this little lady?"

"Let go of her," he said, his hair floating, eyes dark and bloodlust dripping from him.

The men froze, the one holding onto you, letting go.

"Look Illumi, he let go," you said, rushing to Illumi's side. "See, let's just go. You can walk me home." You placed a hand on his chest, trying to push him back.

Illumi pulled out three of his needles. He laced them in aura before throwing them at the men, each one hitting their foreheads.

"Now you three, go take a walk," he said, his long hair dropping. He wrapped a protective arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. "And when you reach a bridge, do me a favor and jump off it."

You sighed, placing your head against Illumi's chest, watching as the men walked off. "A bit dramatic, don't you think?" you asked, feeling Illumi's grip on you tighten.

"I'll walk you home," he said, ignoring your comment.

I take requests btw! <3

I take requests for the following fandoms:

Demon Slayer

Haikyuu

Hunter x Hunter

My Hero Academia

Studio Ghibi films

IT (the films and book)

Percy Jackson

DC

Marvel

Umbrella Academy

Harry Potter

Star Wars

Most Actors (not a fandom, I know)

Rise of the Guardians

Disney (some people like reading Disney character x reader things)

I do fluff, smut, lime and angst.

[one-rosy-sock]

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

[vixenpen]

Look me in the face and tell me that a thick asf, black, bookworm fem reader is the next door neighbor of the sexy twitch streamer or cam boy Shinsou, who wants nothing more than to make you his and have you screaming his name doesn’t sound hot! I dare you 🗿 She’s so shy and sweet and Shinsou just wants to know how loud she can be after the two get to know each other more

Omg that’s so hot 🤤 if y’all can’t tell, I love men secretly pining and lusting after unknowing female readers. ESPECIALLY if they are shy, nerdy, and or curvy/thicc girls. So Inhad fun with this

Girl Next Door (Shinsou x Black Reader)

Quirkless AU

(Art by: @raikiriart)

Shinsou kept his blinds opened when he gamed. He always joked with his viewers that it was for the natural lighting.

“Y’all know the sun really brings out the purple in my eyes.” He’d smirk, and that was that.

They didn’t need to know the real reason he kept them open. His violet eyes flitted towards the window again as he mindlessly navigated the game. That’s when he saw you walking into the complex.

“Uhh, alright guys, I think that’s about it for today. I’ll be back on tonight for our midnight stream,” his eyes flicked over to the window again. You were checking the mailbox. Perfect. “Until next time, later guys.”

Shinsou quickly shut off his computer and threw on a pair of shoes before rushing down the stairs.

“Hey there bookworm.” Shinsou grinned as he approached you.

As soon as you turned and flashed him your little brace face smile, he felt an arrow pierce his heart. God you were adorable. With your colorful braces and glasses and pretty chocolate dimples.

“Hey yourself, e-boy.” You replied.

“Get anything interesting?” Shinsou nodded at your stack of mail as he opened his own mailbox.

“A new book.”

“Of course,” he shot you a smirk.

“Of course,” you giggled.

“Well, hey, that’s what makes you my little book worm.” He teased.

You glanced away your shy little dimpled smile making his heart flutter.

“Well, I better get upstairs,” you said, “I have studying to do.”

“Alright then,” Shinsou’s heart sank a bit at the thought of losing time with you. “Mind if I walk up with you?”

“Sure!”

Shinsou let you lead the way.

You two were neighbors and had come to be good friends; often walking up to your apartments together. So you thought nothing of it when he took up space behind you. Not even feeling the predatory gaze on your ass.

Shinsou’s friendly face fell into an almost hungry gaze as you strutted in front of him. There was something about your cute face juxtaposed with your stacked curves that drove him crazy. Your round ass bounced with every step as you led the way up the stairs. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his joggers and stroked the bulge growing in his pants as your ass wiggled.

Stop being such a creep man.

He chastised himself as you bounced up the stairs, but fuck he couldn’t help it.

All he could imagine was how loud he could make your soft little voice scream for him while he pounded into your thick ass from the back or watched your bouncy tits jiggle in his face.

“Hey, y/n,” Shinsou piped up before he could stop himself.

“Yeah?” You cocked your head.

Cutie.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over and order take out. We can just watch a movie or somethin’..or not! I don’t want you to think I’m tryna Netflix and chill or something!” Even though he totally was.

You felt your face burn. In all the time you and Shinsou had been neighbors, you had always had a crush on him, but never knew how to express it. You honestly never expected anything more than friendly mailbox banter; so getting invited to his house was a pleasant surprise to say the least.

“O-oh, um—Sure!”

“Really? Ahh, I have to stream tonight at midnight, but how bout eight?”

Your cheeks burned as you nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Alright, I now have an hour to make this place look presentable.” Shinsou gazed around his messy bachelor pad.

He managed to make his place decent and changed from his joggers into jeans and a t-shirt. He even combed his messy purple locks a bit. He wanted to look good for you guys’ first hang out session. After all, he couldn’t believe you had actually agreed to hang out with him. Shinsou had been crushing on you for months, but he didn’t think he was actually good enough for you. You were smart and studious and hard working and he was pretty sure you only viewed him as a lazy gamer guy.

That was why he had to impress you. This was his first shot to make a real impression and maybe score a real date with you.

He wondered how you would wear your hair and makeup. If he’d finally get to see those curves of yours hugged in a dress. He groaned aloud, thinking about running his fingers over your body.

“Fuck...” he muttered, feeling his dick flex at the thought of your thick chocolate body writhing under his.

Shinsou stroked himself through his jeans growing harder as his thoughts about you ran wild.

I can’t act like this when she’s around. I’ll scare her off for sure.

Ok. He had twenty minutes. He could just rub one out, right? That way when you got there he wouldn’t be thinking about throwing you on the kitchen table and deep dicking you until you were a groaning mess.

You knocked at Shinsou’s front door. You stepped back and bounced on your toes a bit.

When he opened the door, you felt your heart quicken. He looked so handsome. You weren’t used to seeing him in jeans and you could see how well sculpted his chest was through his shirt.

“Hey, bookworm.” He smiled.

“Hi, you.” You replied.

“Come on in.”

As soon as Shinsou ushered you inside you were intrigued by all the cool super hero posters and pictures of friends on the family.

“DC guy, huh?” You smirked at him as you observed his DC posters.

“For the most part,” Shinsou replied, coming up to your side. “I like the world building more in DC; feels a bit more real to me than Marvel. I don’t know why, but I have to admit I like Marvel’s villains more.”

“Hmm. I’m the opposite.”

Shinsou’s brow quirked as he grinned down at you.

“Oh yeah?”

You nod, shrugging. “I just think marvel has cooler, more powerful heroes and I like the world building in marvel. But I think DC has cooler villains and I like the grimmer grittier vibe.”

“Hmmm, let me find out my bookworm is a comic buff.”

Your heart fluttered again at the possessive nickname, but you mask it with a grin. “Try me.”

By the time the pizza arrives you and Shinsou are deep in your conversation about movies, comics, books, and your favorite shows.

Shinsou proudly shows you his custom PC and set up and swells with pride at how you gush over his build.

He loves hearing about your studies and theories and you guys bounce ideas off of each other for hours.

Before you both know it, it’s eleven o’clock.

“I’m so sorry, Shin. I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

“Trust me, y/n, if it wasn’t for that alarm I wouldn’t have even noticed the time. This has been really fun.”

The grin that lit up your face made your dark eyes sparkle and Shinsou desperately wanted to kiss you.

“Yeah. It was fun. I’m really glad we did this.”

“Yeah, totally. We should...do it again sometime. Maybe we can go out for dinner next weekend?” He offered, carefully.

You glanced away, sweetly, composing yourself before meeting his eyes again with a shy nod.

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool,” Shinsou grinned, scratching the back of his neck as a blush burned on his cheeks. Guess I’ll hop over next door and pick you up huh?” He chuckled.

“Sure.” You giggled back. “Well...night, Shin, have fun on your stream.”

“Night, y/n.” He smiled back.

As soon as you were out the door, Shinsou wanted to whoop and holler. Holy shit! He couldn’t believe he’d finally did it! Not only did he ask you to hang out, he scored an actual date with you!

Not only that, he finally got to know you beyond just a few words, and you were totally cool!

Knowing how cool and interesting you are coupled with your sweet, shy nature just made you more attractive to him.

He couldn’t help being even more turned on. You were like the perfect girl. Shy and sweet and nerdy and cool and Thicc as fuck.

He couldn’t wait to get to know you better in more ways than one...

He felt himself stirring once again and sighed, palming himself through his jeans.

“Dammit,” he muttered, eyes fluttering shut in frustration. “I’ve really gotta stop working myself up over you, bookworm.”

Alright. He had an hour. He could take care of his ‘little problem’ before he started his stream. He would be thinking of you riding his face the whole time.