#( normaltothemax. max )

[dramatisperscnae]

@normaltothemax demanded bby!Dickie "Bruce?"

The boy's wandering through the penthouse, looking more than a little lost and confused. He's not sure why he's here and not at the manor, or why none of his clothes are here, but maybe something came up? Bruce will know, if he can find the man. For now he's making do with a shirt at least two sizes too big for him and a pair of drawstring-waisted shorts that hang almost down to his calves; it's not optimal, but it'll do.

So far, though, there's no sign of Bruce anywhere, which is odd. Stepping into the living room the boy pauses, blinking at the girl on the sofa. Does Bruce have a new girlfriend? Or is she here on some kind of business? "Hi. Where's Bruce?"

[qapsiel]

@normaltothemax ;; meme (still accepting) Max said: “Can someone please be proud of me? Like fuck, I’m trying.”

                          THE PSYCHIC IS NOT VERY HELPFUL. They were hoping she could tell them about the potential next victim of the monster they still don't know a thing about other than it likes to feed on the liver, but even though she claims to see death, she has yet to provide useful information. Castiel gives her a frown. "Try harder," he suggests. (He doesn't even want to be unkind, but his blunt nature sometimes makes him say or do things people with higher emotional intelligence would have avoided.) "We need to know who the next victim's gonna be."

[tireironmybeloved]

“ should i be concerned about why there’s blood in the sink? ” (Max <3)

blood related prompts | accepting

He looks up with a wince from his cleaning said sink, and gives his best attempt at a reassuring smile. "Um.... noooooooo?" As he hastily turns on the hot water to send more of it swirling down the drain like a cheap horror movie homage. "It's not mine?"

Mostly.

[hxllblazer-a2]

@normaltothemax || starter call with max!

“Yeah I—probably shoulda warned you that he does that.” Watching the last of the vines slink back into the sink pipe was admittedly a bit upsetting, but only because he really wished that the self-important cabbage god would at least learn how to use a phone. Or get Abby to do it for him. Though instead of leaving it be, he went ahead and grabbed a plate from a cupboard and put it right on top. 

Just as an extra precaution in case they had another Swampy related visit. 

“Try not t’ mind Alec any, though don’t think he answers to that anymore. Or even remembers...” There’s a pause as he exercises an option in his head. Bringing Max along was probably a really bad idea, but... 

“Y’ wanna come along?” A beat. “If there are dryads in the park again, then there’s probably an open hole t’ the Green. Not as bad as it sounds, just... a lot of primordial plant life. Like a vegan’s wet dream come true amount of ‘em.” 

[monenblogi]

[ TENSION ]  one muse is patching up the other’s injuries which leads to intense eye contact,  lingering touches and them finally crashing their lips against each other’s. (max is making bad choices) - @normaltothemax

The universal constant was that John was a void of existence. A virus that infected everything around him, sucked up and pulled out the worst in order to prop himself and his ever-scabbed ego to feel like a God. Sometimes he liked to joke that he just had that kind of effect on people. 

That he’d show them their worst fears on a silver platter, and they’d never want to go back to being just normal. 

Like had its funny jokes like that. Or maybe it was the shock doing the heavy lifting with the adrenaline and whatever could be fished from the remains of the medicine cabinet. Not as funny as the joke about kids these days not knowing how to throw a punch without a spare screwdriver in hand, but the sharper press of the cotton into the gash on his shoulder had a second opinion on the matter. 

But then it had eased, the cotton pulling off in placement of bandages as soft fingers traced at the bumps and grooves of long forgotten scars making up a language even longer forgotten. Maybe she had understood that he could’ve done so much worse to a pair of drunk assholes behind a bar and simply chose not to. 

Maybe it frustrated her, like John was so used to seeing. Once again meeting every expectation and veering a sharp left as opposed to what should’ve happened. He had half a mind to joke about also having that effect on clairvoyants. 

Maybe she knew that would’ve happened as well and it upset her even more. Maybe she was upset he was still somehow alive. Maybe he’d piece the dots together some day along with whatever he had managed to break off the side table when one-handed groping for the condom. Maybe he’d stop to question why he liked the way Max slotted so nicely in his lap. Felt so wet around his fingers, made such soft noises against his lips despite the aggression... 

But John knew now for sure she liked playing with fire. He could work with that. 

[lamentingwclf]

@normaltothemax liked for a short starter

"There's something you should know - I'm incredibly good at a lot of things, which means I'm a very sore loser. So take it into consideration before you propose whatever it is that's causing you to look at me like that."

[arobinwithoutbatman]

"Hey, Tim. I was wondering if maybe you'd show me how to do the whole darkroom thing, sometime. Doesn't have to be now, just, you know, whenever. If you want. No pressure, or anything." ((from Max, go hang out with your sister in law, Timothy!!))

"Yeah!" He immediately cleared his throat, excited expression settling into something more polite. "I haven't used my own dark room in a while so I'd love the excuse. It can't be right now anyway, I don't have any photos from the right camera at the moment, we'd have to go and do that part first."

Well... nothing that wasn't from crime scenes anyway and that was the last thing Max needed to see.

[snkts]

❛ this is how people get shoved into the back of sketchy vans, right ? ❜ (maybe seer!Max?)

Ah, shit. Maybe that's a tame reaction to the situation he's found himself in, but whatever. Just- shit.

He'd been out on a series of errands. Looking for a birthday present for Hank, actually. He loved old books, so this store seemed like the perfect place to look. Even if they didn't have any books, they'd have something antique and weird that would probably work.

He doesn't find that. What he finds instead is trouble. What the fuck are the Brotherhood doing here-? Ruining his day, that's what. And putting a civilian at risk.

"Pipe down, lady!" He hisses from the back room, where he'd shoved her to take shelter. "Unless you want your whole joint comin' down around your ears, keep your head tucked and wait 'til you don't hear anythin' to call the cops in." And with that, he bursts back into the main shop, claws out, and sets out leading the goons to a less- Expensive-to-destroy area.

Like the parking lot.

[dramatisperscnae]

Max has spent way too fucking long trying to get herself to look the way she envisioned—her hair, her makeup, the (very small amount of) clothes. It all has to be perfect. But she manages, because Dick is out, and that gave her time. Finally happy with everything, she snaps a couple of pictures and texts Dick.

[Dickiebird]: Happy Valentine’s Day! I got you a present :) [Dickiebird]: When are you coming back to unwrap it? [Dickiebird]: image.png

The picture is her favorite of the selfies taken using a mirror to get her entire body in the frame. Max is wearing some new lingerie she hasn’t told him about beneath an undone button-up shirt of Dick’s. She’d happened across it online and just hadn’t been able to resist. The colours were just too perfect. Hopefully he’ll think so too.

[Valentines for the boys!! || accepting]

It's not unheard of for Dick to sit in on Wayne Enterprises meetings. He's had to deal with running the company before - and he'd hated it then - but sometimes Bruce gets an injury that simply cannot be explained away by a playboy's taste for extreme sports. That's not the frustrating bit.

The frustrating bit is that it had to be on Valentine's Day.

He'd actually wanted to take Max out to Robinson Park for a picnic lunch, try to get her back in the sunlight, but so much for that plan. She hadn't seemed all that upset by his having to leave, sure, but that doesn't make leaving his girlfriend alone on Valentine's Day any easier. At least they'll still have that evening; Dick's spent most of his meeting considering what kind of dinner he's going to make her.

Max's message, very fortunately, comes right at the end of the meeting; a blessing for Dick who, after staring at the picture for a few seconds longer than is strictly wise in a business setting, is out of his chair and headed for the door with an airy call of "Excellent work today, gentlemen, thank you!" that could have put Brucie Wayne to shame.

The second he's in the hallway with no one else to see he's replying to that text.

[text: Rapunzel] I'll be home in ten minutes.

[whereishine]

"You need professional help." (idk intern!Max or something maybe? she’s probably judging him for something stupid like favorite pizza toppings tbh)

"Oh come on, don't knock it until you try it." Jimmy reached around Max to grab a slice of pizza out of the box that sat on his desk. On top of the pizza was black olives, chicken and feta cheese. "And you can, go on, have a slice."

[cl0ckhead]

@normaltothemax said: "that's not an option ."

💬🕰️ — "Oho...!" comes a chipper chuckle. The clock-headed being looms over Max with his hands held oh-so primly behind his back. Quite dapper for a man made of bits and bobs and wood and ... whatever else he's made of. "Is not everything an option?" he retorts, lighthearted and bright as always he was. "It is aaallll about... what you WILLING to do...! What you are willing to TRY! Truly, it is!" He nods eagerly, splaying those gloved, wooden hands out as if trying to convince her. As if she could simply be persuaded by his eager attitude and perpetually cheerful tone. "Think about it, Max!" he breathes almost wistfully, leaning into her space and waving an arm theatrically as if tho accentuate his point. "Would it not be exciting to try? Would it not be a great adventure?? Perhaps the greatest, even! Oh, I can SEE it now...!"

[dramatisperscnae]

It's a squeak more than it is speech, but her voice still has him looking up, vaguely confused. Had she really expected him to actively pilot the plane all the way to Venice? He could, sure, but there are other things that need doing that she doesn't have the knowledge to deal with. Of course, he could teach her - and he plans to - but just now when she's petrified with fear hadn't seemed like the best time.

Maybe he's wrong.

She does raise a good point, too; right now he's their only pilot, which means if something does go wrong and he ends up incapacitated they're dead in the water. Possibly literally. For a few seconds he just stares at her before abandoning the re-packing and returning to the cockpit, turning her chair back around to face the console as he does so.

"Look at the console, not the windshield," he tells her. "We have nine hours of flight time. That's enough to teach you the basics of keeping this thing airborne."

The terror that lances through her when he gets out of his seat is visceral. He’s not flying the plane. He’s not flying the plane! Autopilot is a thing, Max knows that, he mentioned it, but he’s seriously trusting their lives to a robot? What’s nothing more than a computer program (she thinks)? Is he insane?!

But she holds her tongue. Bites down on it, hard enough that it hurts, because far be it from her to tell him how to fly. He’s in charge, he’s the one that knows how. Max is just along for the ride. So, she’ll keep her mouth shut on the matter and let him do his thing. All the while growing more and more anxious the longer he putters around looking in cabinets.

Jesus Christ, they’re going to die because he’s feeling nosy.

As hard as she tries not to say anything, she can only stop herself for so long. “You’re just…not gonna pay attention to it?” Was her voice always this squeaky? “Autopilot’s on, so we’re just…fine and dandy, I guess?” Oh god, she’s definitely going to piss him off, at this rate. “I’m not, like, trying to tell you how to fly, or anything,” well, she sort of is, but in a roundabout way, “but what happens when it fails? What happens when the autopilot stops working and then the plane tilts and knocks you off balance and you brain yourself on a chair and then we fall out of the sky and crash and die because—I don’t know if you know this about me or not—I don’t know how to fly a plane?!”

[monenblogi]

4d (max and jonstantine OOPS)

d

“That’s it... that’s a good girl...” 

He was definitely going to catch hell for that later, he could already tell it from the way she seemed to glare at him from between loosely fallen strands of hair. Snorting even as his hands gripped tightly into the mounds making up a far more perfect ass than John ever expected. Leading, keeping her bouncing for more, but he wasn’t the one setting the pace. 

That was the point, that was for Max to do. Taking pleasure from him was what did it for John in this position, and being so close like this was... beautiful, to say the least. It left him tempted to chase the beads of sweat down her chest with his tongue, marveling over smooth and pale flesh. Letting a soft puff of air over finely pert nipples seemed to be enough to have her clenching around his dick.  

It was enough to make him laugh. 

“God... you’re beautiful...” A soft groan escaped as he led her back down, letting the pads inch closer to her free hole just to brush enough and elicit a shudder. “Perfect...” 

[lamentingwclf]

@normaltothemax ; Max ; stepped into the ring first

"If you pour the milk into the bowl before the cereal I might actually murder you."

[arobinwithoutbatman]

[ lean ] sender slowly leans into receiver's shoulder and rests there for a while (Max)

((Being a little lazy and combining this with the other one "Sorry for not warning you"))

She's searching for comfort probably and he's more than willing to give it. Dick... Dick needs rest. They're all terrible with carrying far too much, they come by it honestly, so Tim's visiting for a while, so Dick can sleep or just generally have a minute to tackle whatever the hell happened when he went to rescue Max. Because Dick had immediately put the call out to everyone and oh the entire family had been furious.

"Nothing to be sorry for." He murmured back.

He's not going to make light of things this time. Not when Dick was a mess, he can only guess just how pissed Dick was, another set of dots he would refuse to mentally for the rest of his life and when Max was so clearly still terrified. He can make light of his own situations and traumas. He's well practiced at it now. Not in front of Max. Never again in front of Max.

"Warm enough?"

He's got an arm loosely around her shoulders, his other hand kept occupied by idly scrolling his phone. Checking in on various group chats and effortlessly texting with just his thumb. He's got some silly animal videos queued up if she wants some background noise and some good feelings. The choices are all hers, she only has to ask.

[littlexhades]

"That was weird, right?" (Max)

@normaltothemax

"Yeah... It was incredibly strange, wasn't it?" Zagreus couldn't help the chill that had gone down his spine, heart hammering in his chest but from his calm outer exterior and very relaxed demeanor no one would ever be able to tell that. Bloody satyrs had followed him up to the surface even after getting far away from the Temple of Styx, how had they come to America? Was their vendetta against the House of Hades and its master really that strong that they would tail him to another country?

"Hey maybe we should head back to your place, it's a bit too hot out for my liking and the sun is going to burn us to a crisp if we stay out here too long." Though the Underworld Prince had to resist the urge to put a protective arm around his new friend his did walk behind Max to keep an eye out in case anything tried to sneak up behind them, a boiled down and well-contained rage was pretty much entirely unnoticeable except for the scorch marks his feet were leaving in the ground he treaded on.