#you could have this with or without the prior fuck buddy premise

[jacqcrisis]

Charmes idea that for centuries, Charon and Hermes had a casual sort of deal going on that Hermes first proposed since they're both busy so why not be professional associates with benefits? Mutually beneficial and all, just a way to let off steam. Doesn't have to mean anything and it didn't as he's visit, drop off souls and contraband, chat Charon's ear off, hopefully get taken to pound town if the boatman was in the mood, and theyd part the same as they came together. Except as time goes on, it absolutely does start to mean more to Hermes but he holds it back and ignores it because why would he ruin this thing they've got going on with a big ole crush that Charon probably doesn't reciprocate?

And maybe he does pretend a little bit that it means something more in the moment. In those rare occasions when his stalwart ferryman does not immediately stiffen in the afterglow and send him off as there is work to be done. When Charon holds him for a time, ringed fingers gentle in his hair and his feathers as they rest and Hermes can pretend it has meaning beyond a brash agreement.

Then all the stuff with Chronos happens and they dont get see each other anymore for anything, not the friendship or business or pleasure and the distance and the time apart has made him realize how deep that little crush has truly turned. And by god, is it hurting him; Hermes' thoughts drifting often to Charon, about the time they spent together, hoping he isn't lonely, that he's doing okay, thinking all the things he would say that he wasn't brave enough to before, and why oh why didn't he when he had the chance...

But there's always doubt. Always a chance Charon wouldn't see him the same, yet the thought of just returning to how they were fills him with the same kind of dread as Charon rejecting him if things return to normal. So inbetween zipping around being a sneaky little shit, he's wallowing in his feelings like a lovesick puppy missing his not-so professional associate and dreaming of returning to Charon's embrace with love on his lips and the sentiment returned in kind.

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

(In regards to the slasher x final girl-) I feel like Leslie Vernon is definitely a bit of a gray slate that could be argued any direction.

Did he only care about Taylor for her final girl aspect? Did he actually care about her? I’d like to think so from their interactions but he did also directly state he loves the idea of her

Yeah! Like if you're watching it as the literal trope it's poking fun of (as is the whole premise of the movie), then of course you could say he's only into her because she's part of their dichotomy and he can't have his dream of being a slasher without his final girl. The entire thing is meant to be a parody of the slasher genre anyways, obviously their friendship isn't that serious.

But if you look at it through the fucked up rose colored glasses that we at the Yandere Fan Club received at our initiation, then it's just as easy to say he's grown pretty dang fond of her. He wants her to kill him and succeed, he hides from the beginning that he knows she's his real final girl and is practically walking her through the steps to survive prior to the big night, he's even hesitant in killing one of her camera guys because they had all become buddies (though he still does) so why wouldn't he hold something similar for Taylor? And the fact that, again, he knows she's his final girl, but when she starts to get cold feet about the ethics of the documentary he freely tells her she can leave if she doesn't want to be a part of this and comforts her through the dilemma. Plus he's so excited as he starts hitting the hallmarks of becoming a slasher, which I'm sure he anticipated meant being able to come back from the dead, which also guarantees he'll be returning to her again in the future. And his final words to her, unmasked, "I knew you were the one..."? Peak obsession.

[maya-matlin]

Hi! I'd love to hear more about why you prefer varchie to barchie because same. i know you said you would go with neither right now but i still think varchie is a much better ship than barchie despite not expecting to feel that way. so please elaborate on why varchie > barchie if you want to! i always thought barchie was a lot more popular but have seen polls lately where varchie keeps winning so maybe we're not the minority opinion anymore?

Hi! Thanks for the ask. First things first, Riverdale did a much better job at writing romantic relationships during seasons 1-4. I acknowledge that some of the writing could be wonky at times because it's literally Riverdale, but ultimately I feel that the original ships had something special because they were given the space to thrive. This includes Archie's relationship with Veronica. At first, it seemed as though RAS wanted to go against the usual comics' story line where Archie was forever bouncing between Betty and Veronica and instead committed to having Archie all in with Veronica while Betty was truly happy and content with Jughead. Relationship wise, Archie was much more selfless pre-cheating in season 4 and a lot more open to compromise in contrast to now where he's basically subtly "my way or the highway" but in a gentle sort of way? Like, Archie is never aggressive about it. But since the time jump and especially at the end of season 5 and beyond, he has wanted to basically emulate his father. He has to have marriage and babies. He has to grow old in his childhood home. The dude cannot face any sort of challenges or opposition without Betty being the one to cave. I always thought it was somewhat unrealistic that Archie and Veronica could be so fundamentally different as people to the point of being in drastically different story lines following the second season all the while maintaining a stable relationship. But somehow, it worked for them, and they appeared to balance each other out. I believe that meeting and falling for Veronica changed Archie's life. In his own words, he saw his entire future when they met and basically never deviated from that path until the confusion with Betty. Seven years after their breakup, Archie still loved Veronica and only went to Betty because Veronica was married to another man. Right down the line, Betty is Archie's second choice. Archie has never chosen her over Veronica when he was aware Veronica was an option.

To be honest, Archie's relationship with Betty is a joke to me. Don't get me wrong. It had the potential to be a great ship. The series started off with the premise that they'd been BFFs since childhood and that Betty had always harbored feelings for Archie. But then, Archie made it clear he'd never felt what we was supposed to feel with Betty. Not long after, Betty fell in love with Jughead and kind of never looked back. The writers had many opportunities to delve back into BA, including when they kissed in the second season, but instead decided to make it clear Archie and Betty wanted to be with their actual partners and had no interest in a romance. Worst of all, their friendship was barely a thing prior to the cheating. It was rarely given any significant screen time. But because the writers wanted a shake up, they decided to do the cheating arc. Even during their big cheating moment, the only flashbacks shown were from the first two episodes and then of their kiss in 209. Like, that's all this ship had prior to the cheating. Some fans can view them as a "slow burn" or interpret occasional three second glances as something more, but I can't agree. It was very poorly set up, and it was only marginally better following the time jump. So they became fuck buddies, but Archie had zero interest in being a support system for Betty and ran back to Veronica yet again. Much like in previous seasons where BA is only relevant when their romance is being teased, they had very few scenes prior to season 5's finale where they unofficially got together with no set up - following another Varchie breakup. Season 6 was basically.. everything is all about Archie all the time. They fuck and drink beers together. Sometimes the writers gave them unearned milestones such as saying I love you, becoming a couple, moving in together, and then getting engaged. It felt more like boxes were being checked than a couple in love organically arriving there. Mostly, Betty becomes an extremely watered down version of herself in order to become Archie's perfect match. Because Betty feels that she's "dark" and "damaged", she pushes down anything that isn't pure and good and allows Archie to validate her. The character is pretty much unrecognizable.

It's hard to know what's most popular. Social media seems to skew towards BA because that's literally all that's left these days. But the massive ratings decline and fandom engagement doesn't lie. The change in ships can't be entirely blamed, but the way everything played out along with the timing was a major contributing factor.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can you do a one-shot where the reader was born in 1996 and she’s the daughter of Nikki Sixx and Brandi Brandt and is the bassist and songwriter of Wallows and is best friends with her bandmates Dylan Minnette, Braeden Lemasters, and Cole Preston and she helps 5sos write songs for the album Calm and starts dating Ashton and the fans go nuts (in the good way) with shipping?

Wallowing

ashton Irwin x wallows!reader / masterlist

warnings; references to sex, swearing, threats

“Come in babe.” You opened the door, inviting your boyfriend Ashton into your flat. He had been having a hard day at the studio, and had asked if it was alright if he came over. Of course it was, but he had got a warning prior to his arrival, that they would not be alone, and that if he wanted to clear his head, it was certainly not the right place.

“Fuck you, you’re supposed to be on my side man!” At the sound of Dylan, yelling at whom you supposed to be Cole, you pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as you welcomed your partner into your home sweet home. Out of all days, they had to be playing COD in your apartment today.

“Sorry bout that.” A light grimace filled your face, but instead of giving you criticism, Ashton simply laughed, following you through the apartment, as you tried to slowly pass behind your band mates who were occupying your living room.

“Not so fast young Sixx, get your well endowed ass back here.” A sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled your eyes at Braeden, pausing your movements as he turned to lean against the back of your couch to peer over at you. “We need to have a conversation little lady.”

Groaning, you threw your head back, smiling a small apology towards Ash. “We were going to go to my room, I’d rather just you guys play my PS4 without needing to interact with me face to face.”

“Would you rather he FaceTime you whilst you’re getting down and dirty, or stand there like a kid’s doll and allow him to pull at your arm?” Dylan mumbled, as you crossed your arms, Ash greeting your band mates as you moved towards the tv, reaching for the side button and turning it off.

“Y/n what the hell?” Cole half screamed, breaking loose as he was close to finally beating Minette and killing his gamer character. His hands flailed as he expected an answer, raising in the air as he held the remote.

“I could ask you the same thing Preston, so what’s the schtick that’s making you keep me here, in my own apartment?” He gulped as you enquired at him, raising your brow, as you leaned back into your partner who stood awkwardly behind you like a supporting shadow.

“Congrats on the album Irwin, it’s great to see our own band member aiding your band. CALM is sick, and she makes me feel the same, just in a different manner.”

“Stop being a salty little bitch would you?” You asked, smacking him on the upside of the back of his head. He rutted his head back, clasping the behind of his scalp with his palm, firmly turning back to cast an icy glare towards you.

This was the normal behaviour around here, you all enjoyed getting under each other’s skin. It was a sign of true friendship, that whilst sometimes still triggering some real annoyance, that made your bond of being band mates that much deeper.

They were doing the same thing to you now, speaking prolifically showering your boyfriend in compliments, to side swab you with cockblockery. In all honesty, whenever Lydia or another girl was on the premises, you returned the favour, though that did not your pulsating frustration decrease at all.

“I’m going to assume there’s a problem here. Are you sure now is a good time for me to be here?” Ash asked reassuringly, his gentle touch applying a loving presence upon your shoulder, making you smile despite the situation that was running through the discourse of your veins

You craved him, to feel his body atop, or under, or however else against your own. It was infuriating to endure how your band mates dragged their greeting to him out, all you wanted was to discard his and your own clothing, leaving it as a jumble of forgotten material on the floor whilst the pair of you were caught up in mess upon the mattress, limbs inclined to coil around each arch, and breaths long overdue and escaping into the air.

“It’s a good time for you overall pal, considering that your sales are sky high, taller than this one that is practically trying to hump your arm. No problems with your presence, except the fact that it’s turning little Brandi’s baby’s hormones into overdrive.” Braeden spoke, earning a guttural growl out from your throat, as your nostrils flared furiously at his words.

If you didn’t get on with it, then the Red Sea of the month would cause a flood that would stain your underwear. You’d have preferred to take action before that happened. “The work isn’t just on my shoulders loser, if you want a worldwide selling album, put in some elbow grease, instead of playing stupid games.”

“I’m good, and by definition that makes you stupid, because they belong to you.” He remarked, Cole chuckling and offering him a high five.

“I could just kick you out.” You promptly supposed, as Dylan messed around with his phone, surrendering to the game, as he ran his hand to define the ruggedness of his silvery blue locks.

“Band rules say no to that.” Braeden stated. “And Ash, feel free to replace this one, we could do a switch. You’re basically ready to move in together, so we wouldn’t have to go anywhere else to have rapid fire nights.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?” Your boyfriend asked, and you, without any thought or hesitancy, shook your head. He certainly didn’t need to know about that, it was, least to say, a mess.

There would be dares, and drinks, and tattoos put in the most awkward places with that artist set that you kept very far under your bed. It was a shock that Ashton hadn’t seen the word ‘narwhale’ on the heel of your foot, or maybe he did, and decided against saying anything.

“I put up with these idiots.” Dylan sighed, though as you whipped your head around, you saw that he was not speaking directly to any of you, instead, his

“He’s on fucking insta live.” Cole realised, leaving over to get his face in the mirroring of the stream, waving a hand to the fans that spewed hearts onto the corner of the screen.

“Prick.” You called Dylan out, watching as he laughed at your lack of amusement, and poised the self proclaimed camera towards you, also catching the person beside you in the view.

“Calm.” Ashton softly spoke, sending you a small and reassuring smile, which you were defeated to not permit the same in return

“Funny pun Irwin, but shut up.” You laughed, and shook your head, him finally catching onto what he had said.

“Yes that is the incredibly talented 5SOS member Ashton Irwin. I know right, what is he doing with us?” Cole read, watching as Dylan rolled his eyes at his band member’s behaviour, wanting to get his phone back, though his attempts were lacklustre.

“Or more specifically, her?” Braeden asks, walking behind the sofa and grasping him, dragging him closer to where the phone was propped in Cole’s hand, giving the fans a clear image of his face. “Is he joining the band?” He reads from the flood of comments. “I wish, but we don’t draw that much talent.

“Speak for yourself.” You groaned, walking closer, leaning your head over Ash’s hunched shoulder, releasing an awkward smile as he raised it, gently bumping your chin with the slope of his muscle. “Rude.”

“Where are you guys? Well, we’re at y/n’s apartment. She just got back and dragged this old slugger in off the streets. How charitable.” Cole spoke, smiling up at Irwin as he lightly punched his face, already too comfortable with his hovering presence.

“Why is he there? This one makes me laugh, quick shag, ain’t that right buddy?” Braeden thoughtlessly worded, his eyes going wide in an instant as the fans quickly tended to the realisation of what he had meant. “Fuck, oops I guess.”

To say that you were furious was an understatement; you could feel an ache in your hands, wanting to tear the idiot into dismal pieces until there was nothing salvageable left to fix.

“You guess?” Dylan snickers, covering his mouth with his hand whence he saw your murderous expression conquer features. It was vastly more terrifying than any anger you had ever portrayed, and he could feel the couch moving as Braeden turned, and squirmed from the sight.

“Lemasters, imagine your head on a stick. That is going to happen, when I get my hands on you, your gonna turn cold as I strangle the living shit outta-“ Ashton grabbed you, as your arms tried to grasp and throttle your band mate, flopping in the air, intently furious at his revealing slip up.

“I think imma go.” He bolted, and as you struggled out of Ashton’s grip, you ran after him, out your front door and through the modesty of your building.

“She forgot her key.” Ashton noted, coming around and sitting with the remaining pair on the sofa. “How one of you think it’ll take for them to return?”

“As long as it takes for her to kill him.” Dylan grasps his phone back, fluttering his gaze over the comments. “They’re kinda cute together, found my new OTP. Sorry Dylan and Lydia. Oh don’t worry, that’s fine, we gotta take what we get and currently y/n’s not getting any because we have a tendency to cockblock her.”

“It’s our duty as the men of the band.” Cole spoke, a scream reverberating through from the hallway, audible to those online that were watching the two worlds merging.

“I think she got him.” Ash said, smirking lightly, as he heard your voice bellow out in rage against the male. Yep, your band was messy, but his wasn’t much different. He could certainly get used to it.

[shirtlesssammy]

4x17: It's a Terrible Life

How have we not recapped this yet? Man, this one holds a special place in Boris’s heart -- even if it’s a Cas-less episode. (Natasha: I LITERALLY said the same thing.)

Then:

This is just gratuitous

Now:

Okay, by this point we know the premise of this episode. I’m just going to list all the Well Respected Man things Dean Smith does. 

He wakes up at 6:00am to an iPod. 

He steams his rice milk.

He wears suspenders and cufflinks. 

He drives a Prius.

He turns off the hard rock for NPR. 

Dean Smith is the Director of Sales and Marketing at Sandover Bridge and Iron. 

He types memos in Word.

He uses a headset to talk on the phone. 

He plays office mini-golf while schmoozing on said headset. 

He watches Project Runway (Ok, Dean Winchester totally watches that too, lbr.)

HE EATS SALAD.

He says the word ‘vis-a-vis’.

His boss Mr. Adler is very impressed with him. Good stuff!

He works late.

He is thinking of doing the Master Cleanse. 

He leaves at 5:30 (or really a couple minutes before, rebel!)

On the elevator ride out of the building, another passenger asks if he knows Dean. Dean, focused on his Blackberry, does not recognize the dude. The other dude won’t let it go and Dean tells him to “save it for the health club” before leaving. 

Sam Wesson works in the Tech Support section of Sandover. He mainly tells people to turn it off and back on again. Works every time! Sam and another buddy, Ian, head for coffee. They ask Paul, another worker, if he wants to join them. He’s busy working! Okay, okay, wait one moment. Paul got caught surfing porn on company computers and he still has a job!? WOW. 

Ian grabs some office pencils in the break room. (And we get a nice little intro shot from within the microwave….very nice easter egg for us second (and beyond) viewers.) He then asks Sam about the dreams he’s been having. Sam tells Ian that he dreamed that he saved a grim reaper named Tessa from demons. Ian finds that HILARIOUS. 

At his clown car sized cubicle later, Sam drifts off, only to have vivid visions of murder and monsters --and Dean’s in them. He bolts awake, and looks around disconcerted. 

Sam takes a walk and ends up in the same elevator as Dean again. They eye each other warily. Sam asks Dean what he thinks of ghosts. TOTALLY NORMAL ELEVATOR TALK. Dean hasn’t really given them much thought. Vampires either. Sam decides now is a good time to corner a perfect stranger and tell him about his CRAZY dreams. That’s what a journal is for, Sam! Dean dismisses this crazy man and exits the elevator. 

Sam starts researching (AW BABY) the monsters he’s been dreaming about. Ian interrupts him and tells him that he got an email telling him to report to HR. He’s not too worried as he heads off to his fate. Sam then hears Paul freaking out because he just lost a whole day’s work. 

Paul stays way past closing time trying to find his lost files to no avail. His breath puffs. They must turn the temp down after hours at Sandover. He heads to the breakroom, sticks a plastic fork in the door of the microwave and sticks his head in the microwave, and hits cook. GOOD STUFF. 

The next day, as Paul’s body gets carted away, the entire office looks on, including Sam Wesson and Dean Smith. Dean thinks there’s something weird going on. He looks up Paul’s personnel file (um, like whoa, how did he get access to that?) and learns that he was set to retire in two weeks. Curious. 

Sam is curious as well, but Ian is too busy working to engage. Dean calls Ian up to his office. Dean points out that there were just a few errors in a form he filled out yesterday. Ian is very remorseful. Dean doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. He just wants him to fix the errors. Very un-Ian-like, Ian starts freaking out over his mistakes. Ian runs to the bathroom and Dean follows. He finds Ian staring at himself in the mirror. His breath frosts just before all the water and soap turn on. He insists Ian leave with him. Ian turns to look at Dean, and stabs himself with a pencil. GUH. Dean sees the reflection of an old man in the bathroom stall door as Ian dies. Dean calls for help. 

Dean is relaying the events to the authorities when he sees Sam looking on. Later, he calls Sam to his office. 

For Thirst Science:

Sam and Dean learn that they both started working at Sandover three weeks prior. (Dean! You picked a hell of a week to start the Master Cleanse!) Sam asks Dean if he saw something when Ian died. Dean doesn’t quite admit it but he saw a ghost! Sam wonders about the suicides. “What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something not natural?” 

Sam brings up his dreams again. “So you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychic?” Lololololol. No, OF COURSE NOT. Sam shows Dean emails that Ian and Paul got that sent them to HR on the 14th floor --the HR office is on the 7th floor. Hmm. They decide to head to the 14th floor and room 1444. 

Mr. Blandface McBlanderson heads there first. It’s an old storage room. The air gets frosty, electronics buzz on. Sam and Dean rush down the hallway after hearing the man’s cries. The door is locked but Sam Fucking Wesson just busts it open. Dean is duly impressed. Sam is too. 

The ghost old man attacks Sam and Dean but Dean smashes him away with a wrench (an IRON wrench).

Decompressing back at Dean’s place, Sam longs for beer. “I’m on a cleanse,” Dean explains as he gets him a water. “I got rid of all the carbs in the house.” Oh DEAN.

At the end of this cleanse you chalk a pentagram on the floor, light a black candle, and barter your soul to get rid of those last five pounds

They compliment each other on their ghost fighting prowess. Sam “Boy Wonder” Wesson briefly tells Dean about how he feels out of place in his life. That’s SO MUCH oversharing, Sam! They decide to hit the research track. Dean finds………..the GHOSTFACERS. 

We montage our way through Smith & Wesson’s research, interspersed with Ghostfacer tips. A guy named Sandover turns out to be the ghost - a workaholic who lived for his company. Turns out he’ll kill for it too. They trace a number of historical deaths to Sandover employees. It turns out that the room with the ghost attack was Sandover’s office. 

The Ghostfacers continue to educate Sam and Dean on the finer points of ghost hunting: SALT. IRON. GUN.

Dean absorbs this, then wonders where one might even purchase a gun. Isn’t there a waiting period? Oh, sweet summer child. This here is the United States of America and it’s far too easy to get a gun. The Ghostfacers lesson continues...

Ed: The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains.

Harry: Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry.

Ed: It's illegal in some states.

Harry: All states.

Ed: Possibly all states.

Smith and Wesson return to the office to search for pieces of non-cremated Sandover. Sam gets cornered by a baby-faced security guard, leaving Dean alone to continue the hunt. In Sam’s elevator, electronics start to glitch. It’s probably nothing! The guard pries open the elevator door and crawls out onto the next floor.

The elevator slips and the guard falls victim to the blood cannon. Sam adds this incident to his list of Terrible Things That Happen in Elevators.

Sam and Dean reconnect by a historical display which includes Sandover’s gloves. Those gloves seem like likely candidates for remnant DNA...and in short order the ghost proves them right. Old Man Sandover zaps in as they break the glass. They fight!

Sandover looks like he’s got the upper hand, lowering his brain-zapping fingers to Dean, when Sam lights the gloves on fire. Sandover goes up like a torch.

Smith and Wesson are amped up after the fight! Sam wants to hunt ghosts full time. Dean scoffs at this. “How would we get by? Stolen credit cards, eating diner food drenched in saturated fats, sharing a crap motel room every night...You don’t want to go fighting ghosts without any health insurance!” Wise words. 

For Look at this Well-Prepared Sunshine Science:

Sam confesses that his hunting dreams featured Dean as well. “What if that’s who we really are?” Sam wonders. 

Dean defends the reality of his life. HE WENT TO STANFORD. His father’s name is Bob, his mother’s name is Ellen, and his sister is Jo. Excuse me. I’m just going to….stand outside my door and HOWL MOURNFULLY about this with the local coyotes. 

“We’re supposed to be someone else.” Sam tells Dean that he started at Sandover because he broke up with Madison - but now her number leads to an animal hospital. (I swear to god, I’m gonna chew off my own arm at this show.) Sam says that Dean’s more than just a corporate suit. Dean shoos Sam from his office. 

The next morning, Sam’s back at the daily grind. He steps back from his phone and then swings a crowbar at it, Office Space style. 

Upstairs, Zachariah smarms his way into Dean’s office and clucks that he looks tired. He’s heard good things about Dean and offers him a generous bonus.

Zachariah hints that a big promotion could happen in 8-10 short years of constant work and sacrifice. The joy in Dean’s eyes fades. Dean turns it down and tells Zachariah that he plans to quit. “I have some other work I have to do,” Dean tells him. “This - it’s not who I’m supposed to be.” Zachariah smiles and zaps Dean’s brain. The camera desaturates.

“My god am I hungry,” a confused Dean observes as Zachariah chuckles. (Stop reading Goop, Dean! Get off that cleanse!) Zachariah explains that he’s Castiel’s boss, and he’s on Earth to ensure that the Winchesters fulfill their destiny - as hunters! 

“You’re a hunter,” Zachariah explains. It’s in Dean’s blood. (I hiss at this.) And if Dean works hard enough, he’ll do everything he’s “destined to do. All of it.” GUH. Zachariah urges Dean to embrace his life. It could be worse, after all!

Semi-quote Kinda Life, Baby:

Good stuff

Did you try turning it off and then on? 

Look, man, I don't know you, okay? But I'm gonna do a public service and let you know that you overshare

How the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?

I don’t believe in destiny. I believe in dealing with what’s right in front of us 

Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[bigskydreaming]

Uh.....if you mash together pre-Reboot and New 52 continuities the way we all just tend to do anyway, you know who would have just as much to say about Bruce resuscitating the Joker after Dick killed him in Last Laugh?

Duke. Who does the math and realizes, wait, the fucking clown was actually DEAD, like, game over, the world rid of the problem that is him and the shit he does....and Bruce...actively cancelled this out, whereas if he’d stopped his OWN kneejerk reactions long enough to realize that reviving the Joker wouldn’t erase what Dick had done or lessen Dick’s awareness that he’d crossed that line, literally all it would accomplish is to have all of that remain true WHILE bringing the Joker back into the world and thus creating more potential victims of his in the future?

Victims like....Duke’s parents.

Aka can someone please drag Bruce Wayne’s butt to therapy because his complete inability to bend or budge on the specific issue of killing has 

1) caused his eldest son no shortage of severely debilitating emotional issues all stemming from his deep-seated fear of losing his father’s love due to situations like with the Joker and with Blockbuster 

2) caused and perpetuated his continued estrangement from his second son, whose actual literal death was so devastating to Bruce he was in real danger of getting himself killed before Tim came along and yet upon his actual return from the grave, still took backseat to Bruce’s fixation on a rule he set FOR HIMSELF long ago, because it was always made fairly clear that Jason could have been persuaded to change his methods in regards to fighting all other crimes if Bruce could find a way to make an exception in regards to the Joker, who has hurt all of their family so often and so severely, and that’s not even getting into the shit with the Penguin in RHATO

3) contributed to his third son’s feelings of estrangement and not being deserving of a place in Bruce’s family, in the aftermath of Tim’s entirely understandable DESIRE to see his father’s murderer dead, without even Tim actually acting on it before earning Bruce’s judgment, and with a likely extension and continuation of this divide being evident in how opposed Tim is to going to Bruce for help whenever Ra’s pops up again to be all “I’m outside ur house in the bushes spying on u thru the window, will u join me in remaking the world in our - sorry that’s a lie, I meant my - image, plz check y/n,” because again quite understandably, Tim fears being caught in the middle of Ra’s and Bruce’s ideological war because he’s afraid of Bruce deciding its because Tim is more open to what Ra’s says than he actually is, and the conflicts that could arise from that

4) almost destroyed any chance of a healthy and loving relationship between he and his youngest son before they even got a chance to start one, due to his own issues with a past Damian had literally no ability to opt out of, even if he had been given alternative viewpoints to the morality of killing, as taught to him by the League - Damian was a ten year old child who could not be expected to have the resources to leave the League and their expectations for him, without help, even if he had previously been able to conceive of a way of life other than the one laid out for him from birth

5) I don’t even know where to start with Cass and the whole shit with Deathstroke and like....I just. Yeah

6) As noted at the start of the post, had Bruce simply not intervened to resuscitate the Joker, like didn’t even need to kill him himself, like if he had simply NOT BROUGHT HIM BACK TO LIFE (like and people wonder why Dick was so convinced Bruce would judge him for not stepping between Blockbuster and a bullet to save that villain’s life when not even a year prior, Bruce had established the precedent that apparently in his mind, if there was even a possibility of resuscitating an already dead villain with a body count like the Joker’s, that was apparently what needed to be done)....but like....no Joker after the Last Laugh, no Jokerized Thomases a few years later....not to mention how that could have altered the chain of events that unfolded with Jason’s return and attempt to get Bruce to kill someone who would now already be dead.

Like....Bruce. Buddy. Pal. This vow you made - again, for YOURSELF - to never kill in any scenario, because YOU were afraid that YOU wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from doing it again, and again and again...it might have been born from a place of good intentions, but the stringent, utterly inflexible way you apply it to your own family, with zero allowance for context, let alone exceptions, is actively hurting them in any number of ways, AND HAS BEEN FOR YEARS.

You need to get some nuance. Nobody’s saying YOU yourself have to go out and start gunning people down, but there have to be room for more opinions on this than just yours...especially when it comes to the choices OTHER people make on this matter, for born of THEIR moral compasses. Your moral compass has allowed you to give yourself a pass on some pretty fucked up things, so you need to just NOT, with the whole treating it as the be all and end all of Right and Wrong.

I mean in my professional opinion, of course.

Also also also, I would just like to point out that another factor that in my mind, makes the Last Laugh story and the fact that Dick DID in fact cross that line once and kill someone, even if they were later revived.....

This is important, and potentially central to SO MANY of the internal conflicts within the Batfamily, most of them between Bruce and various of his children....

BECAUSE IT DISPROVES BRUCE’S FEAR OF THE SLIPPERY SLOPE IN REGARDS TO KILLING BEING LIKE...A UNIVERSAL LIKELIHOOD, RATHER THAN JUST A PERSONAL FEAR BASED ON HIS OWN SELF-AWARENESS.

Bruce’s entire thesis about never killing even once, even with someone like a Joker, is because he believes once you start down that road, you’re never going to stop....with him frequently shown as seeing Jason and his actions as proof of that basic premise....because ultimately, like with the Penguin, its like even when Jason has gone a long time without killing anyone, Bruce is convinced that its only a matter of time before he breaks his promises or finds another ‘exception’ he feels he can justify....because again, Bruce so often fixates on this idea that there IS no stopping. With it being very easy to see how this also extends at times to concerns about Damian and the possibility of him killing again, given his own past.

But when you take Last Laugh into account.....and acknowledge the fact that Dick has killed as a bigger deal than the comics or most fics have ever really allowed it to be....

Suddenly you have to take into account that yes, Dick has killed once...

AND ONLY ONCE.

Years and years and years ago....and never done it since. 

And that’s a potential GAME-CHANGER for so very freaking many of the conflicts that keep their entire family so divided....because so many of them are sprung from this one central source.....which is based on this one specific fear Bruce has for himself and has since applied to all of his children as well....

To such an extent that when one of his children crossed this line for the first time....BRUCE HAD TO UNDO IT.

Even though Bruce said at the time he resuscitated the Joker so that Dick could live with himself, not have to live with having killed a man and what that might do to him.....Dick still had to live with himself, still had to live with having killed a man! It very much informed his character moving forward, was a central part of his fears in situations even tangentially similar, like with Blockbuster. Bringing back the Joker didn’t actually change ANYTHING for Dick, other than....render all that kinda meaningless, because he had to work through the emotional issues of having killed a villain....who didn’t even stay dead, and continued to kill and ruin lives.

Nope, I maintain in actuality, Bruce resuscitated the Joker so that HE could live with what Dick had done, not have to live with one of his sons having broken the vow that was so important to Bruce himself, and what that might do to him, Bruce...and his relationship with Dick, or even just his ability to continue to have a relationship with Dick. He was driven to ‘reverse’ what Dick had done, IMO, so that HE didn’t have to face it, could in time pretend that it hadn’t really happened, it didn’t count, his world order was still intact.

And that’s a level of denial that’s actually pretty damn characteristic for Bruce in a lot of ways.....and IMO, the real source of so much of his conflict with his children.

Because then once Jason came along and already had eight heads in a duffel bag by the time Bruce realized who the Red Hood really was.....it was too late for Bruce to do anything about it, to stop reality from crashing straight through every barrier Bruce tried to throw in the way to keep from having to face the moral quandary of one of his children (that he so often saw himself in) taking the step that he’d so definitively feared ever taking.

Its not that Bruce was able to ‘forgive’ Dick for killing the Joker that one time, and not the times Jason has killed, because Bruce loves Dick more.

Its because Bruce DIDN’T forgive Dick for it. HE DID HIS BEST TO PRETEND IT NEVER EVEN HAPPENED.

And the reason that didn’t happen with Jason....was because it was never even an option. By the time Bruce was confronting his son as JASON.....instead of a mysterious masked vigilante....there was zero possibility of reframing this in his mind or undoing any of it like he tried to do when he resuscitated the Joker.

Bruce’s vow is all well and good for him....but the thing he’s never faced, because he’s afraid to face it, afraid it could permanently destroy his connections with his family....is that he doesn’t get to make that choice for his children. That it doesn’t make them terrible people to feel differently about the importance of not even allowing a man as destructive as the Joker to die, in large part based on their having entirely different life experiences than Bruce himself, that lead them to feel differently on specific matters like this one.

And I think the most effective starting place for that dialogue, that confrontation, realization....is for BRUCE to face what Dick did all those years ago, AND the fact that in Dick’s case, history has NOT repeated itself since.....that Dick truly did kill a man, kill the Joker, in every way that mattered....and HE’S STILL DICK GRAYSON. The person he was didn’t change, not fundamentally, not in the ways that matter so much to Bruce on every other level. Killing the Joker didn’t make Dick a killer, other than in the specific context of that specific situation.

And that to me, is such an important conversation to have within the construct of the Batfamily and their interconnected conflicts, a confrontation that could actually force Bruce to start shifting his perspective in regards to his CHILDREN’S choices, not necessarily his own....and with that ultimately spreading into each of the individual conflicts Bruce has with his various kids, and allowing for some actual PROGRESS to be made on those fronts, instead of it always just being the same old fight, with them all endlessly running in circles.

[violetnuisance]

A Spark

The Pure Attract The Toxic - Chapter 2

a/n: I-I finally did it. Things start to get explicit in this one. Here’s the link if you’d rather read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20988461/chapters/49910162

I dunno if my “read more” is working on mobile, but let’s pray

[[MORE]]

Travis could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as his hands tightened their grip around the strap of his messenger bag. Despite the dread filling his lungs, his eyes narrowed on his target. The mane of frizzy brown hair towered over the other students who sat at their respective tables eating lunch, making it easy to spot Larry from a mile away. The blond marched onwards, forgoing his own lunch. His stomach had been in turmoil all day, too nervous to digest anything. It wasn't until brown eyes snapped up to meet his that Travis paused for a second, losing his bravery.

Larry’s eyes narrowed as they caught Travis’s, and the blond swallowed. The look of intense displeasure crossing the brunet’s face was a stark contrast to the chaotic energy he exuded just the day prior. As Larry looked away from Travis for a second and excused himself from his lunch table, the blond could all but feel the annoyance radiating from the other. He continued to stand still, waiting for his death sentence as Larry approached him. The taller male’s hands were dug in his pockets and shoulders hunched as he glared down Travis.

“Come on,” Larry barked out as he grabbed Travis’s arm. The blond stumbled backwards, balance briefly knocked, causing Larry to only tighten his grip. “Without making a fucking scene.”

“You’re the one dragging me out of the cafeteria,” Travis huffed, letting him be pulled through the double doors and back out into the hallway. Larry’s bruising grip on him only lessened when the brunet scanned the area and found no wandering students.

“I wouldn’t have to drag you anywhere if you’d just stay away from me and my friends,” Larry retaliated. Travis felt his face redden as his temper rose. He jerked his arm completely out of the other’s hand, earning a huff from the metalhead.

“If I recall correctly, you were the one following me around yesterday,” the blond seethed. Larry’s gaze darkened and a snarky laugh pushed its way up his throat. Travis felt his temper drop to be replaced by fear as the taller male took a step towards him. Mouth suddenly feeling too dry, Travis took a step back.

“Don’t get so full of yourself,” Larry chastised, voice dropping to a low growl. The deep octave made the hair on the back of Travis’s neck stand up. “Just because I wanted to toy with you yesterday doesn’t mean we’re buddies or that I want you anywhere near my friends.”

Travis’s mouth worked for a second, trying to push words out, but his brain failed to find a snappy comeback quick enough. Larry rolled his eyes as the awkward silence grew between them until the blond wished it would have the mercy to suffocate him. He found himself staring dumbly at the taller male’s chest, feeling akin to a toddler who had just gotten chastised. No, he never would’ve considered him and Larry friends, but he didn't think it’d be quite this difficult to get the other’s acquaintanceship at least.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Travis chose to say. Larry crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to a side, obviously not believing the admission. “I was just going to invite you to a church service.”

“Why in the absolute fuck would I want to go to your church?” As if they were in a comic or animated show, Travis swore he could see Larry’s eyes visibly twitching, ready to deck the blond.Travis felt himself become hyper aware of how his hands clutched his messenger bag strap for dear life once more, too used to getting his lights knocked out by others to process that Larry didn’t have any true intentions of hitting him.

“I mean, I was just thinking-“

“Whatever you were thinking, you were wrong,” Larry deadpanned, eyes narrowing. Travis’s own eyes dropped down to stare at Larry’s shoes. He really wished he could call upon his usual venom, but he felt stupefied. Everything moved a bit too slow for him to process it fast enough to put on a facade. “And from now on, only talk to me when I approach you.”

Travis didn’t utter a word as he watched Larry walk away, long hair bouncing with every angry stomp.

/ / /

The lackluster interaction between them had left Travis feeling disgruntled. He never envisioned that he’d be able to conquer the wild beast that was Larry Johnson in his first rodeo, but he had been hopeful to at least make a millimeter of headway. Instead, the stony brown eyes of the other had shot him down on sight, refusing Travis before he even had the chance to open his mouth. Despite the blond’s overwhelming negativity with the situation, he realized that maybe not everything had crumbled to ashes like it appeared when he made his way to his trusty bicycle after the final bell had rung.

Mirroring the day before, Larry stood against the chain link fence by his bike. This time, the brunet held a lit cigarette between his lips, and Travis watched as the smoke billowed against the “No Smoking!” sign attached to the fence. He did his best to swallow the anxiety that Larry was just there to scold him more and held his chin up as he approached his own bike, determined to let the metalhead know that he had absolutely no control over him.

“Hey angel,” Larry cooed, taking the cigarette from his mouth. “Seems like you have a little more ‘pep in your step’ now.”

Just like that, Travis could feel his temporary control snatched from him by a mere pet name. A wolfish grin covered Larry’s lips as the brunet averted his gaze to let out a low chuckle while Travis stood in front of him, frozen. “What’d you call me?”

“Angel,” Larry answered, pushing himself off of the fence. Travis took a step back as Larry became a step closer to him. “I can call you something else if you’d like. Kitten rolls off the tongue easily, but maybe you’d prefer baby boy?”

“I’d prefer my name.” The words came through Travis’s gritted teeth. As soon as his surprise at the name had dissipated, his stomach had done a weird flip flop, but then utter annoyance took place. The male in front of him had no place to be referring to him so fondly, how one should refer to their girlfriend, not another boy-

“Earth to Travis, yoo-hoo!” The cigarette was back in Larry’s mouth, and the taller male had leaned in closer to Travis, waving a hand in front of his face. From this new, much closer, proximity the blond was overwhelmed by the reek of the nicotine. One again, he took a step back, this time quickly looking over his shoulder. It just sank in that Larry could get them both in trouble for smoking on school premises. “What were you fantasizing about so hard that you didn’t even offer me a nod when I said that I’d go to your stupid church?”

“Wait,” Travis’s head whipped back to Larry, “You’ll go?” The blond couldn’t keep the excitement and eagerness out of his voice. If he could just get Larry to go to service, he was sure it’d change the brunet for the better and maybe help cease some of the feelings going through Travis’s own mind when he caught himself staring at Larry.

“I’ll go to one meeting,”Larry corrected, holding up a single finger. Travis would take what he could get.

“That’s great-“

“But only if you let me drive you to my place tonight,” Larry interrupted, smile broadening as Travis’s own shrank. That wasn’t so great.

“Why?” It seemed that Larry’s grin only continued to grow, his insufferable tooth gap making an appearance now. The brunet drew his eyebrows together and shrugged his shoulders as if to exaggerate how “hard” he was thinking about the answer to Travis’s question.

“I dunno, thought we could have a little bonding experience before I show up at the Phelps Ministry, y’know?” Travis didn’t know. He didn’t know why they needed to bond before the Wednesday night service. Larry rested his hand on Travis’s shoulder, and the blond felt like he was being smothered. He swore his knees started to buckle when the bastard started to rub slow circles into his skin with his thumb.

“What about my bike? I can’t leave it here, didn’t bring my chain today,” Travis got out, thanking God for the excuse.

“Let’s throw’er into the back of my pickup truck. I have some cords that I can tie her down with if you want to be sure she’s safe,” Larry assured, a glint in his eyes that made Travis feel cold. The blond hugged his arms to his chest, heaved in a breath of air, and slowly sighed before nodding.

“If there’s a single scratch on the bike from the bed of your pickup truck, you’re dead faggot,” Travis snapped, surprising them both at the sudden shift in tone. Larry snorted, shaking his head.

“There you are. There’s the Travis I know and love to hate,” Larry deadpanned. The brunet’s own sweet facade fell at Travis’s words, and he jutted a thumb in the direction of his truck. “Go ahead and get in while I grab the bike.”

/ / /

Travis sat stiff, as if the tiniest movement from him would make the vehicle’s alarm go off, as he waited for Larry to tie his bicycle down. The truck was the kind that only had a row of front seats, no back ones. At the moment, Travis would’ve killed to have been able to sit in the back, farther away from the gremlin of a brunet.

“Alright,” Larry began as he swung himself into the driver’s seat. The whole truck heaved to the side under the offending weight, and the blond was duly reminded of how much the other had bulked up since freshman year. “Next stop: casa de Larry.”

“You live in an apartment, not an actual house. Wouldn’t it be ‘piso de Larry?’” Travis asked the question half because he was an ass and half because he had a Spanish exam next week. Larry shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. As the engine roared to life, Travis felt himself cave in even more.

“Maybe if my mom was from Spain or some shit. We never use that form,” Larry gritted, eyes no longer focused on Travis as he tried to maneuver the truck around an assortment of sloppy student parking jobs. In the silence, Travis noted that Larry no longer had his cigarette, must’ve stubbed it out before climbing in. He was thankful for that, not really wanting to be trapped in a small space with the obnoxious smell of a cig. The odor was already present enough on Larry’s clothes. “So why, exactly, am I going to your church? And don’t bullshit me Phelps. I know there has to be more of a reason than it being a good experience.”

“I dunno Larry. Why am I being abducted to your apartment? There has to be a better reason than bonding,” Travis echoed back, his sarcasm slowly but surely firing up again. Larry’s glare whipped towards him, frown pressed into his face before he let out a dry chuckle.

“Like I told you, it’s just bonding. I wanna get to see the big, bad Travis Phelps in a new light,” Larry replied. His eyes darted back to the road to make sure they weren’t going to crash before he looked back at Travis, gaze traveling up and down his body. The Christian felt like he was being undressed.

“What if I don’t want to ‘bond’ with you?” Travis sneered. Larry couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face, and Travis couldn’t help but cross his arms back over his chest, trying not to completely ruin his front. They both knew Travis would be putty in Larry’s hands.

A touch against his neck made him snap his attention back to Larry. The brunet’s own eyes flit back and forth from the road to Travis as his free hand traced patterns on the side of the blond’s neck. The shorter male roughly swallowed, disconcerted by the weird yet soft interaction. “Don’t worry angel, we’ll only do whatever you want to,” Larry purred, fingers dipping down to trace the base of Travis’s neck before lightly tugging at his sweater’s neckline. “But something tells me that you’re going to want to do a lot.”

Just as the gentle touches started, they stopped, leaving Travis alight. He tried to blame his longing for the caresses on the lack of positive physical affection in his own household, but that debate came up short in his own mind. He didn’t have to mull over the reason for long however because Larry’s hand suddenly rested on his thigh. Travis looked to the other, to see what game he was playing, but the metalhead was focused on the road, signaling their conversation was over for now. At first, the hand didn’t bother Travis too terribly much. He grew accustomed to its weight and warmth, could almost pretend it wasn’t there. However, when Larry started driving on back roads and subconsciously squeezing the boy under him at every dip in the road, the blond began to mind the hand very much. He knew the other, for once, wasn’t trying to get a rouse from Travis, but this might’ve been the best show Travis put on for him yet.

While Larry’s hand was resting on top his outer thigh, his fingers were curled against his inner. And while the placement was nowhere near his crotch, it still made Travis’s head spin. Right now, he was sat up stiff and straight, legs almost completely shut together. If he actually relaxed, slouched a bit, and let his legs spread to a more comfortable position, the hand would surely rest a lot higher on him. Travis wasn’t a fan of how much the idea excited him, but another part of him certainly was. The Christian could’ve screamed bloody murder when he realized he was starting to sport a hard on from just having a hand on his thigh, Larry’s hand no less. Instead, he looked out the passenger seats window and steeled himself, trying to calm down.

However, as fate would have it, the bastard beside him started to rub circles against him, fingertips curving all too pleasantly against Travis’s leg through his shorts. The blond knew in the back of his mind that it simply wasn’t normal for even a less disciplined man than himself to get hard from a hand on their leg, but Travis felt like he was positively burning. He looked like he was burning too. In the window, he could see his faint reflection, and a vicious blush dusted his features.

“Only about fifteen minutes away from the apartment complex,” Larry stated, casting a glance over to Travis. His eyebrows immediately furrowed at the sight. “Jesus, do you have a fever? My mom just got over the flu, can't be bringing any more illnesses into the house.”

“No! No, I’m fine,” Travis replied, words tumbling out quick. He ripped his gaze from the window to face Larry, offering a nerve stricken smile. Larry stared at him intently, eyes searching his face before they suddenly dropped down to his crotch.

“Oh my god,” Larry began, grip on Travis’s leg tightening.

“Fuck you,” Travis spat, jerking his leg away from Larry. His whole body shifted from the brunet, legs clamped together, but it was still easy to notice the tent in his pants.

“Apparently you really want to,” the brunet mused. His hand hovered in the air, as if he wanted to pry the other’s legs apart and see how much damage he had done, but he thought better of it. His thumbs drummed against the steering well as he grabbed it with both hands.

“Only in your wet dreams, Johnson,” Travis growled, and Larry really wanted to go into a hysteria of laughing. Only the blondie sat beside him would deny his attraction while there was a raging boner in his lap. Instead, he slowed the truck as he pulled off to the side of the road. He never cut the engine, just let it purr gently as the vehicle came to a halt. The change in pace startled Travis, and he felt his heart start to race. At this point, he didn’t know if it was from anxiety or anticipation. “What are you doing? Why are we stopped?”

Larry shifted in his seat to fully face Travis now that he wasn’t driving. The coy smirk that seemed to be ever present on his face broadened as he once again looked Travis up and down. The Christian could feel the blood rushing in his ears as Larry bit at his own finger for a second, seeming to decide something in his head. “Say Travis, have you ever heard of road head?”

[prorevenge]

Call me a terrorist and threaten my pay? Enjoy your nuked careers, yuh heathens.

warning: very long story. tl;dr is at the end.

I used to work in hospitality in a metro known for it's obscenely huge tourist population, you know, the city built around the Mouse. I was a manager for the recreational division of the hotel. So one day, my boss (who we'll call Mary for the purpose of the story) comes into the shared managers office and starts rummaging around for something, and strikes up a small conversation about work related minutiae with me. It's important to note she is actually 2 tiers above me, but was acting as head of the department while searching to replace my previous boss who recently quit (great guy by the way, huge loss to the company).

As we're talking, she abruptly stops and says "By the way, you need to shave your beard, you look like a terrorist and I don't employ terrorists". Haha, funny joke between colleagues, right? Nope. I am half Indian and I do look middle-eastern, and have been taking this kind of shit since middle school. Plus, we're not close, at all. So I reply as calmly as I can muster, "Hey, I get you're trying to be funny, but on my end it comes off as pretty ignorant, so I'd appreciate it if you chilled out with the terrorist stuff" to which Mary retorts "Oh, I'm ignorant? We'll see how ignorant I am during your annual review", and proceeds to walk out of the room in a huff. My jaw dropped so low I could taste the floor.

You would think it was an easy fix, right? Go to HR and all. She's made rude comments like this before. I've refrained from contacting HR because I didn't want to be petty, but now she threatened my pay, and that's no bueno. So I go to HR like a good boy and tell the HR director, who we'll call Boyd. I explicitly ask him not to mention it to anyone, just to log it away in case someone else reports something similar and he can establish a pattern of behavior. Well, Boyd decided that he simply must talk to Mary about it. I stress again that I am not comfortable with it, since she strikes me as the vindictive type. No good. He promises there will be no retaliation and tells me he'll contact me later for a statement (which I thought was weird, why not make a statement now?) and that was that.

About a week goes by and I follow up with Boyd because I've been getting some less-than-pleasant vibes from Mary. Nothing substantial, but odd. When I ask what happened, he tells me "Well it appears that Mary was just joking, but she has agreed to never say anything like that again. Your annual review is not in jeopardy"... ooooooook. At that point, I decide to just let it go. Fast forward a month, a new Director for our department is hired and surprise, surprise, it's her roommate and former front desk supervisor, "Joe". Ok, cool. I'm used to the nepotism because the entire hotel basically operates that way, whatever. Never had an issue with him, didn't know him too well but I'm happy our little hive has a leader again. Man, how fucking naive I was.

From the get go he is unpleasant. Snide comments left and right, changing my schedule at the last minute every week or scheduling me on my established days off, giving away opportunities to my peers that I'm never considered for, making me take "improvement classes" none of my peers have to take. All strange but up to that point nothing "earth-shattering", until one day I get written up out of the blue (first ever write up btw), for "refusing to inform a superior of leaving the premises", referring to me leaving the day prior without literally saying the words "Hey Joe, I'm leaving for the day".

1) This is not an established policy written or otherwise. When I say I'm leaving, it's a courtesy. 2) I know for a FACT my peers don't always say when they leave (personal observation), and was corroborated by them after asking around. 3) Knowing that my peers aren't held to the same bogus standard AND having never been written up for it, I know this is a direct shot at me. My review is fucked. Best part? Joe let it slip that MARY asked for me after I left and when it was found that I was indeed gone, she REQUESTED the write-up. That was fuck up #2, lady. #3 came when Boyd decided to cover his own ass when I approached him with all the evidence pointing to retaliation and discrimination in the workplace. I learned he never properly documented his discussion with me or Mary, and that he's been basically playing the whole fucking thing by ear. I decided to write my long past due statement then and there, turn it in, and e-mail a picture copy to the corporate office. I tell Boyd that I am sorely disappointed about how he handled the issue, and he responds by accusing me of "dramatizing" the whole ordeal. He was very flippant about the whole thing, rolling his eyes and everything. K, buddy. I see you now.

So finally, we've reached

THE REVENGE

After some time, I scrounge up all the evidence I can. My write-up, my co-workers write-up records (with their permission), company policy manuals, my schedules for the past month (including the bogus classes only I was made to attend), my co-workers schedules, witness statements (from peers when Mary has said other demeaning things), and a few others items. Next step, I tell off Joe, because fuck him. I make sure he is VERY angry when I leave. You'll see why later. After crossing my T's and dotting my I's, I resigned with a two week notice.

That night, I type up a letter to the EEOC and attach all my evidence. I mention Mary, Boyd, and Joe by first and last name. I hint that I am pondering a lawsuit. A few weeks later, I have my girlfriend call my old job pretending to be a potential employer asking for a reference. I give her the extension to Joe's desk. As I predicted, he slanders the ever-loving shit out of me (straight up lies, even got my resignation date wrong along with my attendance record, all verifiable, helping my case). I tried the same trick with Boyd, but he was smart enough to point my GF in the direction of a third party reference dialer the company is supposed to use for these kinds of calls. I proceed to send my old employer (corporate included) a Cease and Desist letter with a transcript of the call, hinting I may sue for slander.

THE RESULT

Some time passes, and the other day I'm at the bank with my GF, I get a call from an old co-worker. I miss the call, but I resign to call him back later. Less than an hour later I get 5-6 calls and texts informing me that Mary, Joe, and Boyd were all fired the same day and walked out of the building. Mary cried. Apparently, the corporate office was contacted by the EEOC and launched their own internal investigation, matching their records with my evidence. The EEOC sent me a return letter with the companies statement, which was fallacious as fuck (due to their interviews with the 3 stooges), but nonetheless I suppose they decided it was easier to nip it in the bud and sack their asses to be safe.

Karma may be a bitch, but in this case, she had nothing to fuckin' do with it.

TL;DR: Boss A makes racist joke and threatens my annual pay raise, two other stooges get themselves involved and a few months later I get all three of their asses fired the same day.

(source) (story by dragongrl)

[luvambrylayn]

Truth or Dare (4)

Characters: AJ Styles and OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content, Angst, Fluff, and Fantasy Smut

Short Summary: Mia’s actions come back to haunt her. Also, a Truth or Dare game involving Mia and AJ lead to secrets being discussed and feelings being revealed.

Word Count: 3,823

Other Great Blogs: @llowkeys, @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues, @wwe-smutfics, @wwesmutdonedirtcheap, @wrasslesmut, @laochbaineann, @thatonegirloncealways, and @crowleysqueenofhell.

Sequel to Gym Antics. Okay you guys, we are nearing the finish line, only about one or two chapters left at the most. Thanks for all the positive feedback on this. This is the first time I’ve tried this on Tumblr and I appreciate those who have encouraged me.

Mia's POV

I am walking backstage. I've been avoiding AJ for the past two weeks. I just feel so stupid. All he did was point out the fact that he paid for our meals. The least I could have done was ate it. He was a really nice guy. It seemed like the nicer he was, the more determined I was to be a complete bitch. Me ruining the nice bed he made for me was mean spirited, but me tossing a glass of lemonade in his face was something else entirely.

I had been spending all of my time with Kevin over the past few weeks in hopes of distracting myself from thinking of AJ. Now, it was Raw and I had a meeting with Stephanie before the show. My heart was pounding. I just hoped that it could be the push I deserve for the Divas Championship.

I get to Stephanie's office and knock on the door. A few seconds later, the door is opened by Stephanie. I look inside and see AJ sitting in a chair in front of her desk. My heart drops as Stephanie welcomes me inside. I glare at AJ. If he snitched, I could be in big trouble. I sit down next to him. Stephanie walks to her chair and sits across from us.

"I called you two here today because a video has gone viral, and it stars you both." Stephanie turns her laptop. It's a gif of me repeatedly throwing my glass of lemonade in AJ's face. I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment.

"It has also come to my attention that you slapped AJ at a gym just an hour prior to this altercation, Ms. Stone." Stephanie continues. My throat closes up. AJ gets up nervously, his concerned eyes locked onto my body.

"It's not her fault. I pushed a few of her buttons. She reacted poorly. Please understand that we were both in the wrong." AJ pleads. Stephanie looks at me with her piercing blue eyes.

"I could understand if she reacted poorly in private. However, these are public scandals. As a result, I am suspending you for four weeks, Mia." Stephanie decides. AJ looks to her.

"What about me?" He challenges. Stephanie sighs.

"We can't afford to lose you. You are a huge draw." In anger, I get up and walk out. AJ runs after me. He grabs me by the arm. I turn and give him a venomous stare. He quickly lets go as he remembers what my slap feels like.

"I'm sorry, that was unfair." He apologizes. I shrug in defeat.

"It's not like it matters." I start to leave before turning back. "I'm guessing that was a subtle warning from Steph if I get into one more fight with you, I'm gone. So I'll see you later." I groan. He nods.

"I promise, I won't be pushing anymore buttons. I swear." He reiterates. His face was genuine, proving once again that he was a kind, handsome man. A light smile appears on my face. He chuckles. "I've never seen that before." He comments. I remain quiet as he strokes my cheek with a gentle hand. I place my hand over his. "You have a beautiful smile." He whispers.

With that, he begins to walk away. I let out a breath. Part of me could not tell if this was part of his show. I shook my head of these thoughts. I wanted to ive AJ the benefit of the doubt After all, he was a good guy. Suddenly, I'm tapped on the shoulder. It is Stephanie. "Oh yeah, you're suspension is effective immediately, leave the premises at once." She instructs.

I close my eyes and roll them so that she does not see before leaving to grab my stuff from the locker room. As I walk out, I walk into Kevin. He looks at me in surprise as he sees my bags by my side.

"What's up? Where are you going?" He asks. I sigh before giving him the summary of my conflict with Stephanie. He shakes his head. "That's bullshit. I'm sorry." He comments before giving me a hug. I nod my head in agreement. I see Stephanie walk by. I am sure that if she saw me she might be tempted to have me escorted away.

"I gotta go." I tell him. He nods in understanding before giving me a kiss on the forehead. I get to my rental car with my belongings and drive to the hotel.

I get to my hotel room and feel admittedly lonely. It was still early so I pull out my phone and observe my contacts in hopes of finding someone to talk to.

KO 🐻 AJ 🍆💦 Sami 💞 💯 Bo$$ Straight Fire🔥 Lunatic Dean 🍻 Paige 😈 Mom 👵 Dad 👴 Chris 👦 👑 Barrett Mallory 🖕 Landon 🔫

Just talked to Kevin. AJ. My love bug Sami, Sasha, Becky, Dean's just my drinking buddy, Paige, Ma, Pa, Bro, the Ex, the Whore, the Asshole. I sigh, I should probably delete the last two. My eyes go back to AJ's name, despite all that had gone on today, the only one I wanted to talk to was AJ.

AJ's POV

I'm at Raw. I can't stop thinking about what happened with Mia and Stephanie. It was completely unfair how poorly Stephanie treated her. I shake my head. I couldn't think about that just yet. I had a promo to cut with The Miz and Chris Jericho. Then, I was going to be there for Daniel Bryan's retirement announcement. This tugs at mt heart again. I am sure Mia knew Daniel Bryan more than I did, and here I wad attending his retirement announcement while she had been banned.

I get into my rental car and relive the last few moments of my life. I had just met Daniel, but he seemed like a great guy. It was unfortunate that I'd never get to work with him. While it was a sad moment, I was left even sadder due to the fact that Mia could not be there. She would have enjoyed the event.

As I drive, my mind keeps wandering back to Mia. Her long, flowing, brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, supple lips, humble breasts. My dick begins to strain itself against the fabric of my jeans. I look up to the sky. "God, please not now." I spit. It becomes clear that my erection has a mind of its own. I roll my eyes and pull up to the side.

Luckily, there does not seem to be much traffic. I unzip my fly and pull out my cock. I begin to stroke it as I imagine Mia in the passenger's seat. She leans down and wraps her lips around my cock. She begins to suck. I push my head back as she continues to stroke. Her tongue moves down and makes its way down to my balls. She flicks my balls with her tongue. As she works, my unit continues to harden. I take a hand and guide her back to my shaft.

She now can only make her way down half of me. I start to move my hips up and down. Mia looks up at me with those beautiful blue eyes. They are watering. I notice strands of her hair are going out in all sorts of directions. In order to help her, I grab a handful of het hair and hold it back as I face fuck her. She starts to push off of my thighs. I look at her with a loving gaze.

"Please Mia, do this for me." I beg. She nods as she attempts to deep throat me. Her lips get lower and lower until it has reached the base. She sticks her tongue out and laps at my balls. She seems to be hungry for my cum, doing whatever she can to pleasure me. I am ready to give it to her. My phone vibrates, but I ignore it. "Yeah Mia, take my cum." I growl as my cock starts to shoot jets of cum onto my dashboard.

My eyes widen in shock at my thoughts. You're married man! I rebuke myself. I grab a cloth and start to clean up. My phone vibrates again. I pull if out see that Mia has invited me to her room to talk. Without thinking, I text back, agreeing to the plan. I put on the radio and drive the rest of the way only thinking about the music.

I have already set my stuff up in my room. I get to Mia's room and knock. "It's open!" Mia calls out. I walk inside and smell food cooking. Music is playing and I can't help but smirk. A second or two later, Mia comes out dancing.

My eyes immediately go to her hips, swinging and rotating smoothly, as if natural. She stops as soon as she sees me. I laugh a bit as she holds her face in embarrassment and hurries over to the food.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you or anything." I apologize. She shakes her head.

"No worries. If anything, I'm more sorry that you had to see that." She admits. I place a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know why, you're were a pro dancer." I remind her. She smiles and nods before continuing to cook. I look at it, my mouth watering. She chuckles under her breath.

"Chicken Marsala. I couldn't keep watching the Daniel Bryan thing, too sad. So, I went shopping for food." She explains.

"Looks good, Honey." Without thinking, I kiss Mia on the cheek. As I walk away, my eyes bulge out from my skull. I turn and see a similar expression on her face.

However, it turns into a laugh. "Yeah, anyone can tell that you just got out of a relationship." She teases. I cross my arms.

"What does that mean?" I challenge. She shrugs.

"Nothing. It's just funny that the first time you come home to a woman cooking a meal, it immediately brings you back to your wife." She explains.

"Well, either way, I'm sorry. It was a mistake. It won't happen again." I mutter angrily, slamming the door to the bathroom behind me.

Before I can lock it, Mia comes in. I'm sat on the side of the bathtub. She sits beside me on the toilet seat. She takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." I meet her eyes, how should I respond?

Mia's POV

"I'm sorry if I touched a nerve. Look, it was an accident. You had an impulse. I'm sure you'll get Willa back. This just proved you still love her." I encourage.

"I don't want her back. It's true, I love her, I'll always love her in some way. I mean hell, we have three children together. I guess I just want her to be happy. Even if that means we're just friends." He explains. She nods and places a hand over mine.

"Then I'll help you reach that." I tell him. He looks at me with those beautiful eyes of his. My eyes begin to study his face.

His nose was cute and proportionate to the rest of his face. The wrinkles on his forehead that betrayed his otherwise youthful appearance. His lips, pink and plump, despite his age. I mean his haircut sucked, but he was actually very handsome.

I get up and offer him a hand. He accepts it and we walk over to the kitchen. I burnt the chicken a bit, but otherwise, I hope it's a good meal. I make him a plate before making myself one. We both sit down across from one another. In my hand is a glass of wine while AJ has a glass of water.

"So, this whole friendship with Kevin Owens, how did that start?" He asks. I laugh.

"Well, at first we didn't like one another. We didn't actually become friends until I became friends with Sami. Sami pushed Kevin to help train me. After some time that I trained under both of them, I learned that they are both great guys." I explain.

"So, at first, you were just using him, but then it blossomed into a beautiful friendship?" He sums up. I shake my head.

"Not really, I love that man. He's like the brother I never had. Even though I have a brother." I admit. AJ nods.

"What happened with you and Wade?" He asks. I smile and take a sip of wine.

"He fell in love with another woman. Avery. I think her name was. All I know is that they have a son together, and are happy with one another." I answer. AJ drinks his water.

"Now what is this, 20 questions?" I tease. He takes another drink as he finishes up the meal.

"No, I'm more of a truth or dare type of guy." He admits. I finish my own meal and stand up.

"Then by all means, let's play." I suggest.

AJ's POV

I clean up the dishes as Mia finishes off her glass of wine. To my relief, she does not get drunk before she puts the wine away in the fridge. She sits, down, leaning her back on the couch. I join her with my glass of water. I face her with a smile. "Since you already asked me a couple of questions. You go first. Truth or Dare?" She decides. I shrug.

"Truth." I choose. She narrows her eyes.

"How bad can we go with this?" She asks. I chuckle.

"Is that your question?" He teases. I shake my head as she shakes her head. I shrug. "I am a Christian boy, but since you have had a bad day I will make an exception and say that you can push farther than other people can." I tell her. She nods.

"Okay, I know you have a poor relationship with your parents, can you elaborate?" She asks. My eyes widen.

"God that's your first question. Okay, poor is putting it lightly, but I was born in a Marine base. I lived with an older brother, my mother, and my father." I pause. Mia sighs.

"I'm sorry, that was a bad question don't answer." She offered. I shook my head.

"It's fine. I've been fine with my childhood for a long time now. Anyway, we were poor growing up in Georgia. My pops liked to drink. And when he drank, he also liked to hit me, my brother, and my mom. God I begged my mother so many times to get us away from him, but she never did." A tear began to form in my eye. I wiped it away and cleared my throat. Mia crawled over to me and hugged me.

Her scent filled my nostrils. We seperated, our lips inches from each other. Our eyes locked, she sat back and smiled. I adjusted myself through my jeans.

"Anyway I got married to my wife Willa when we were seniors in high school. As soon as I could I was gone." I conclude. She nods, as if processing the information. "Your turn, truth or dare?" I challenge. She smiles lightly.

"Dare." She answers. I clap my hands together.

"Prank call Kevin." I suggest. She laughs.

"I do that on a regular day, but okay." She jokes as she pulls out her phone. She hits *67 before calling him. After a few rings, the phone picks up.

"Mia, don't have time for this, I'm tired, good night." With that, he hangs up.

"Shit, he knew it was me. Well, technically I did it. So truth or dare?" I cross my arms at her technicality before smiling.

"Truth." I repeat. She frowns. As I take a sip.

"No fun. Okay, this will be a lighter question. How many different people have you had sex with?" Mia asks. I spit the water out. She laughs as I wioe the water from my self. It has soaked my shirt. I am trying to dry it. Mia rolls her eyes. "Give it to me, I'll throw it in the dryer." She offers. I remove my shirt. I feel a bit awkward as I am now shirtless.

She leaves for a second as I try to get my wits about me. She returns with a tank top. "Might be too small for you but it is all I got." She says. I put it on and it is indeed too small, but it still does it's job. "So, how many?" She repeats. I take a deep breath.

"Two." I answer. She chuckles.

"Who?" She asks. I shake my finger at her playfully.

"No, no, no, that's two." I point out. She pouts, looking annoyingly cute.

"Damn it. Fine. Willa, obviously. But I lost my virginity when I was fourteen to another woman." I clarify. She covers her hand over her mouth playfully. I chuckle. "Truth or Dare?" I prompt.

"Truth." She switches it up. I smile.

"Name all of your sexual partners." I shoot back. She rolls her eyes.

"Well, there's my ex Wade and then a fling with Sheamus." She answers. My eyes widen.

"You had sex with Sheamus?" I am in shock. She shakes her head.

"Only like two times. I was rebounding from Wade and as a result we didn't work out." She clarifies.

I nod. "Wait, what about Landon?" I risk asking. She takes a deep breath and I immediately regret asking the question.

"We never had sex. I wanted to do it right with, wait until I was married. He couldn't wait, so he fucked my best friend." She admits.

"Well that's cause he's a boy who only thinks with his trouser snake if you know what I mean." I joke. I cringe but to my surprise she lets out a chuckle. "I am sure the right man will come along and wait as long as he needs to." I encourage. She looks to me. I am filled with guilt as I look down at my feet. She runs a hand through her dark hair.

"Okay, truth or dare?" She asks. I smirk.

"Truth." I answer. She looks at her fingers nails, as if thinking of a question. She seems conflicted. As if she is unsure if she wants to ask this next question. Or rather, if she wants to know the answer to her next question.

"What do you think of me?" She asks. I chuckle.

"What do you mean?" I ask. She sighs.

"It's pretty simple. What do you think of me?" She repeats. I sigh.

"I think you are a talented young woman." I state. She scoffs.

"Come on AJ that's a cop out and you know it." She challenges. I let out a breath.

"Where is this coming from? Why do you care?" I ask. She sits back.

"Because, I think you are a great guy. That's the only reason I give you so much shit. I feel as if my entire life is falling apart and you want to be there for me. I've never had that before. I don't deserve it. So that is why I threw lemonade in your face that is why I slapped you. You are so great, I guess I am just suspicious that you show so much kindness to a piece of shit like me." She rants. I sigh and crawl over to her.

I bring her into me and hug her. "You are far from a piece of shit Mia. You are beautiful, headstrong, and by that I mean stubborn as hell. But in a way I like that about you. I feel as though you walk into a room and command some damn respect. Not through your language, but your body. You are an amazing person who has been through some not amazing things. So if you wonder what I think about you I think you are the most special person I have ever met. After my kids." I tease. She looks up at me, tears in her eyes.

"Thank you." She whispers. She looks so vulnerable, her eyes wide, her lips quivering. Without thinking I kiss her. My eyes widen as to my surprise she deepens the kiss. She sits on my lap and wraps her legs around my waist as we kiss. I stand up and sit down on the couch. Her kisses start to trail from my lips to my jaw. Her lips tickle my stubble as I groan. She breaks the kiss and peels the tank top off of me.

We continue our lip lock. I push my tongue forward, begging for entrance into her mouth. She allows me and my tongue starts to explore her mouth as my hands wander over her body. Her own hands tracing every muscle on my frame including my arms, chest, and abs. Her hands begin to travel further south, palming me through my jeans. It is at that moment that Willa flashes through my mind. I lift Mia off. She fixes her hair which got messed up a bit in the make out session.

"What? Did I do something wrong? Was I not good?" She asks. I shake my head.

"No you were great. It's just that I am still married." I hurry to her dryer and retrieve my shirt. I slip it on and hurry to the door. Mia appears behind me.

"We'll do you want to hang out again some time?" She asks. I sigh.

"This cannot happen again I'm sorry." I apologize. She smiles weakly, my heart aches for her but Willa must remain a priority.

"It won't I'm sorry. From this point on we are friends." She assures. I remain silent. "Please." She whispers. I nod.

"Friends." With that, I leave, afraid to look back, afraid of what might happen between Mia and Me if I do.

Mia's POV

I closed the door behind AJ. I take out my phone and play the message that AJ had accidentally sent to me earlier. "Yeah Mia, take my cum." As soon as I heard AJ's groan, I felt a tremor in my pussy. I knew that I needed him inside me. I am kicking myself. I did everything I could. I made him dinner, I bonded with him, I even got him to make the first move. The only thing I didn't do was get him drunk. I was tempted to try, but I knew I couldn't do that.

I wanted him, but I would do it the right way. I knew that I had my work cut out from me. Willa was the mother of his children. But I knew that if given the chance, I could make him happy. We both want each other sexually, if I can just build a stronger bond, I might be able to actually have something more with him.