#I needed a chance to work on Blake more

[aceghosts]

💋💀💘🛏 + the new baby Blake?

Thank you for sending these in! I like having the chance to develop Blake a little more.

💋 How would they react to getting a kiss? (can be platonic or romantic)

Depends on who is trying to kiss them. If it’s a fan or someone they don’t know well, Blake will push them away and state nicely (and firmly) that they don’t want to be touched like that. Blake only gets mean about it if a fan gets pushy.

If Blake is being kissed platonically by their bandmates or close friends from other bands, they'll play it off a bit. Blake enjoys the affection though. They also don’t mind getting slobbery kisses on their cheek from their Jack Russell Terrier, Jett. If it is a romantic partner, Blake probably would be happy about it in private but slightly uncomfortable about it in public. They’re not huge on PDA, and they like to keep their romantic life private.

If you’re [REDACTED] trying to give Blake a kiss, I hope you have your last will and testament ready.

💀 If they were one of the 7 sins, what sin would they be?

Maybe sloth, like acedia? Blake works really hard, and they put a lot of labor into the band, but sometimes, they're rather indifferent toward themself. Like, they can’t give a fuck about themself the same way they do about the band or their bandmates.

💘 What kind of person is their ideal type?

Someone who understands their passion for music. Blake doesn’t necessarily want to date someone from another band, but they do want someone who understands how important music is to them. Music has gotten Blake through a lot of shit, including the death of their bandmates, and their partner has to understand the importance of that. They could never walk away from making music.

They also like someone who is quiet, laidback, and isn’t about living a party lifestyle. Blake wants somewhere quiet to come back. Their partner also has to be cool with Blake's touring schedule or at least, willing to meet Blake halfway.

🛌 What kind of sleep schedule does your OC have?

A fucked up one. Blake was a night owl before they started touring, and touring has only made it worse. They’ve learned to fall asleep anywhere and regularly stays up. After they get back from touring is always the worst. Blake struggles to get back into a somewhat normal sleep schedule.

[OC Asks]

[storiesofsvu]

Communication Error

Alex Blake x reader warnings: mild language, hurt/comfort kinda, usual BAU type of situations and violence.

The BAU had been in San Antonio for nearly two weeks already, the team had been called in a little earlier than usual but the case was striking right from the start. You’d spent hours droning over case files, evidence, cold cases and every chance you seemed to get at the unsub he was always a step ahead of you. The final straw was when he broke pattern, kidnapping the daughter of his murder victims rather than leaving her at the scene.

Tensions were running high, press, locals and the upper brass all beating down on the BAU to figure things out quickly and safely. You’d been in close quarters all week, there was not a moment to be had to oneself as everyone was bunking with someone else and everyone was on edge. There had been far too little sleep, an overconsumption of caffeine and definitely not enough food.

It was safe to say everything about the situation was escalated.

It didn’t even matter that you happened to be working the case with your girlfriend, you and Alex had barely had a moment of peace and definitely not a moment of privacy since arriving and no one else on the team knew you were together. JJ and Garcia had been sharing a room up until a pipe burst in their bathroom on the first and now all four of you were crammed together in one dingy hotel room. You were ‘forced’ into sharing the same bed but your subconscious spent the entire time you managed to get sleep fighting itself in a reminder that you shouldn’t exactly be cuddling. Unable to properly communicate over the week lead to both of you being on edge and there was no relief of a little hand hold, a tender kiss pressed to the other’s temple in reassurance or soft ‘I love you’s’ in moments of need.

When you finally caught up with the unsub in a warehouse on the outskirts of town everyone was on high alert, vests on, guns at the ready and attempting to make a plan about what was going to go down. Garcia had found a back entrance into the warehouse, one that it seemed the unsub was unaware of and it was certain you would be going in through there to retain the element of surprise. Problem was it was only big enough for one person to finagle their way through.  

“Wilson!” The local swat team leader called out and your head shot up.

“Yes sir?”

“I’m givin’ you the lead with this, you comfortable doing that?”

“Yes sir, of course.” You glanced over to Hotch, watching as his jaw tensed ever so lightly before giving you a once over and a trusting nod.

“Are you sure about that?” Alex suddenly asked and your brow furrowed at her, unsure if she was directing your question to you, Hotch or swat.

“I have complete confidence Wilson can do it.” Hotch replied, “I’d expect everyone on the team to trust my judgment.”

“This unsub is convoluted,” Alex continued, “he twists things around, he’s incredibly hard to read, and according to the profile he’s not afraid to take anyone out to get away.”

“And she knows all that.” Aaron nodded toward you and you returned the gesture while swat continued to fully suit you up.

“I just think that maybe a more experienced member of the team should be going in.” Alex protested and this time your head shot up to hers, a mixture of hurt and offended drawn across your face.

“Excuse me?”

“This guy, he’s duplicitous, he’ll talk riddles around you to draw your attention away from what he’s doing to get the jump on you.”

“Oh, so you’re not just doubting my ability to do my job, now you’re calling me stupid.”

“I think it’s a bad idea.”

“And for every second we stand out here while you berate me we’re wasting time and losing the opportunity to save that girl. I’m suited up, I know what I’m doing and last time I checked I didn’t need your vote of confidence to do my job.”

You glanced towards Hotch who simply stood his ground, nodding to you once again before you turned back to swat to get your ear piece put in and were quickly guided around the building. There was only a beat of silence before Alex spoke up again.

“Hotch I really think this is a bad idea. She’s the newest to the team, she’s barely worked three full cases, there’s been more paperwork than unsubs—”

“Blake.” He cut in, voice stern, “you’re out of line. Wilson has almost four years of hostage negotiation with NYPD under her belt, not only does she have a very good understanding of what she’s doing, she’s the best out of all of us to go in there. I wouldn’t even put my own skills above hers today. So you can either head back to the cars, or you can join us in having your team member’s back.”

Alex took a deep breath, sucking down any and all responses she had but Hotch didn’t miss the way her nostrils flared, her eyes tense as she bit her lip and shut up. Instead her hands went back to her hips, one already stationed ready over her gun as she tried to control the way her heart was hammering in her chest. While she certainly hadn’t known about your specific role with NYPD and was a little less worried about you being in there alone, she still didn’t want you getting hurt. You’d been in deep with this one, relating a little too much to the kidnapped victim and she was worried about what you might do to get her free. Now all she could do was wait.

She honestly wasn’t sure if it was the way her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears, or if there really was that much static over her earpiece. She could hear your hushed voice crackling through every so often as you cleared the first couple of rooms, making sure to check in with your team, she faintly heard something else and by the way Morgan’s eyes shot toward the warehouse she was certain you’d found the unsub. This was the part she hated the most, she wanted to be in there with you, or at least in your ear, guiding you through what could very much help you talk this guy down if your own tactics didn’t seem to be working. It was driving her insane that none of them could hear what you were saying, it was clear you had adjusted your radio to attempt to keep the audio button pressed down, pinched between your belt and hip but it still kept cutting in and out.

If you had asked, she could have sworn they were standing outside of that goddamn building all night, the anxiety coursing through her body causing her muscles to tense, nearly aching by the time Reid’s head shot up.

“She’s coming out!”

In reality it had been just over forty minutes. But those forty minutes had been absolutely agonizing as she prayed for your safety while still trying to focus enough to stay sharp and do her job.

The door to the warehouse booted open and the unsub was the first to appear, cuffs on his wrists, hands on his head. You had one hand sturdy on his shoulder while the other one was being clutched by the girl on your side. Swat hustled in, quickly taking the guy down to the ground while they did a more thorough search before escorting him to the car. The team relaxed, the tension surging through them finally beginning to melt away as you glanced around the lot, beginning to lead the girl over to them.

Somehow, you heard it first and your ears picked up that it was coming from behind you, a shot fired from the roof of the warehouse. There was a cacophony of yelling, screams and very sudden nearly panicked rush of movement. All you could think of was making sure that the girl made it out in one piece, shoving her in front of you as you nearly hit the ground, enveloping her in your embrace.

“GO!” Hotch’s yell was barely audible over your ringing ears, “Morgan take the back.”

Gusts of air raced passed either side of you and a rock must’ve been kicked up, your arm began to sting, pain beginning to prickle through your body. You heard another couple of shots ring through the night air and wrapped tighter around the girl.

“He’s running.” Alex’s voice was suddenly at your side, her hand gently resting on your shoulder and you were able to relax, your hand still tightly clutched in the girl’s.

“Then go!” You urged her, waving in the proper direction.

“You’re hit. I’m not going anywhere.” She insisted and the pain in your arm suddenly increased by a tenfold.

“I’m fine!” You assured her, glancing down to see the tear in your shirt, looking to the ground in front of you, you spotted the bullet, still in one piece and nearly as clean as it had come out of the gun.

“No you’re not. You’re bleeding.” Alex’s fingers delicately tugged at the fabric of your sleeve trying to get a better look at it.

“It’s barely a scrape! Go help the team.”

“I don’t care!” She nearly snapped back and when you finally looked up and caught her gaze there was a misting of tears in her eyes, “you are what’s important to me right now.”

“Okay.” You nodded softly, standing to your full height and scooping up the girl with your non injured side to carry on your hip over to the medics.

Alex couldn’t help herself, chewing on her fingernail as the paramedic urged you into the back of the ambulance for better lighting. She could feel her leg shaking and finally succumbed to the pressure, beginning to pace, her feet kicking at the gravel a welcomed distraction until the medic jumped down from the bus. Her head shot up, catching the moment you dropped down to sitting on the back of the rig, an orange juice in your non injured hand.

“You okay?” She asked timidly, approaching you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, gesturing toward the bandage on your arm, “just a graze, no stitches necessary.”

“Oh thank god.” She let out a huge breath, the relief flooding through her body all at once so intensely she had to drop down beside you and you were quick to catch her trembling hand in yours.

“Alex… I’m fine. We’re both fine. We’ve both seen and handled worse.”

She made a meek noise, avoiding your gaze as her fingers tapped a rhythm on her thigh and against your palm. A brief silence over took the back of the rig while she calmed herself and made an attempt at sorting her thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” She finally spoke, “I was out of line.” She risked a glance up at you, “please know that I have never and will never doubt your abilities, you’re incredible at what you do. I was just scared. I guess… I guess I was putting personal thoughts above professional ones, and I had no idea about you being a hostage negotiator.”

“It never came up.” You shrugged, “and I shouldn’t have snapped back either.” You smiled softly, squeezing at her hand, “it’s been such a long week, we’re all exhausted. And I know that’s no excuse…”

“Still a contributing factor.” She finally cracked a small smile and you laughed softly, leaning in to leave a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“How did two people with careers built on clear and concise communication skills end up sucking at it when it comes to outside of work?” You asked with a laugh, pulling one from Alex.

“I don’t know.” She softly squeezed your hand, “it’s something to work on.” Her hand wrapped around you, pulling your head to her so she could leave a tender kiss on your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sound of a boot on gravel broke through your little happy moment and both of your heads shot up to find Hotch standing in front of you, a brow raised in your direction.

“If you’d like you can keep pretending the entire team didn’t already know, but in the future I’d hope it doesn’t affect any of our cases.”

“Yes sir.”

“Sorry sir.”

“And I expect that paperwork on my desk by the time we land.” He eyed you for a moment before his lips split into a small smile, “good work today Wilson. I’m glad you have someone like Blake to have your back, even if she does get a bit pushy at times.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your mouth as Alex let out a scoff, Hotch turning away with a gleam in his eye.  

_____________

@svulife-rl rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @happenstnces @whiteberryx @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @leftoverenvy @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik @riveramorylunar @h-doodles @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @s1ut4nat @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @ara-a-bird @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @moonlightjxuregui @gamma-rae-bursts

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Hugh Jackman and OG Reader

Since I get into writing these fan fics based on who I'm obsessed with at that time, then my library is all over the place. Like a lot of people, I have rekindled my 10 year old crush on Hugh Jackman.

Here is a taste of my original story featuring the man, the legend, the man who makes my daddy issues ok, Hugh Jackman and my original character.

Let me know if you want more!

**********************************************************************

WARNINGS:::::::::MDNI (Future chapters) Angst; love; loss; so much smut. Fingering, unprotected pinv (wrap it up); creampie, orgasm, mention of death; age gap. Reader is in her 30s and Hugh is 55.

Synopsis:

Up and coming actress Danielle (Dani) James Levy just got the opportunity of a lifetime, a supporting role in her Uncle Shawn Levy's new film with his best friends, a little film called Deadpool and Wolverine. She has all intentions of being professional and getting her first big break, but little does she know all her plans are about to be derailed by her co-star and her uncle's friend. None other than Wolverine himself, Hugh Jackman.

Once they meet and test the limits of their chemistry, along with their 23 year age gap, more than fireworks begin to erupt.

With Hugh coming off his divorce and Dani trying to stay professional, will that keep them from their happy ending?

******************************************************************* Chapter 1: At First Glance

May 2023

There was a knock on her trailer door as Dani Levy scrolled her phone. “Come in,” she answered. The door swung open and her Uncle Shawn walked in. She set her phone down because she knew if he was here, then it was something important. After a few small parts and background acting, her Uncle Shawn had gotten her a big audition for a supporting role in the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie. Being a fan of Marvel and her Uncle, she jumped at the opportunity. 

“Dani, are you ready for your big debut?” her Uncle Shawn asked. 

“Absolutely, just really nervous. I mean Ryan is cool, but I get to work with everyone else and haven’t even met them yet.” 

“Well, that’s why I’m here. I wanted to do a little team dinner tonight to welcome everyone to filming. It’ll help introduce everyone before filming and hopefully break the ice.” 

“Wasn’t that what you do at a table read?” Dani asked. 

“Usually, yes. This project has been so locked down though, we didn’t have a chance to do one with everyone’s schedules and plus half the script would have had to have been redacted.” 

“Sorry, you know the stuff I’ve done. I haven’t had to do these types of things before. I’m just nervous,” Dani replied. 

“It’s all good kid, you know Uncle Shawn has your back. Who knows, this might open you up to new adventures and opportunities,” he said, getting up to leave. Dani followed her Uncle to the door as she watched him leave.  New adventures and opportunities. Yeah right. Boy, was she in for a big surprise. 

Later that night, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds pulled up to the restaurant the team had rented out for the cast and crew to get to know each other. 

“Are you sure you’re still on board, man?” Ryan asked. 

“Yeah mate, I’m still committed. I wouldn’t grow my facial hair like this for nothing,” Hugh answered. 

Ryan let out a laugh. “How are things going at home?”

“Well, Deb and I went to the lawyer last week to officially finalize the divorce paperwork. It just feels weird.” Ryan put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Look man, if you need anything, you know I’m here and so is Blake. If Shawn knows too, you know he’ll help you out too.” 

“Thanks Mate,” Hugh replied as they walked into the restaurant and to the bar. 

Dani decided to not make it look like she was one of those nepo Hollywood kids, so she decided that she would arrive separately from her uncle. She pulled on the hem of her short black long-sleeve dress she had decided to wear, feeling self-conscious in her decision. She stood at the door of the party and took a big breath before walking in. People mingled around the large room, then she spotted her Uncle at the bar next to Ryan. 

“Ah, look who finally got here,” her Uncle Shawn said. 

“I’m not late,” Dani said, looking at her watch with a panicked look. 

“What’s up kid?” Ryan asked, pulling her in for a hug.

“Hi Ryan! Kid really?,” Dani replied with a laugh. She glanced at the man standing beside Ryan. He looked familiar, but also super hot. The way his arm muscles filled out his collared shirt, to the stubble beard that peppered his jawline was making Dani feel some sort of way. 

“Ryan, you already know my niece, but Dani, I’d like you to meet Hugh Jackman or as everyone knows him, wolverine.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dani,” he said, his hand reaching out to shake hers. The smile he gave her, adding to the list of things she was finding attractive about this man. 

“Nice to meet you too, Hugh. My Uncle has told me alot about you,” she replied with a smile. 

“I hope all good things,” he replied with a smile. “Shawn, I didn’t know your niece was an actress.” 

“Well, she is and she is super talented. When we got the script finalized and talked to Ryan and Kevin about who would fit the part, I suggested Dani to audition.”

“She’s not so bad,” Ryan replied, putting his arm around her shoulder, acting like another uncle or older brother. 

“You two are embarrassing. I’m trying not to look like I got the part because I’m related to the director,” Dani replied. 

“I think you’ll be just fine,” Hugh answered, giving her a wink. Dani nodded, downing her drink before excusing herself to talk to someone else on the cast. Little did she know, she had captured the one person’s attention that had put her in a way and now he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

Insert the beginning of all the problems. 

[hotchfiles]

hi! can i ask for 12 and 13 valentines bau!reader with hotch? 🤭✨ thank youuu

let's celebrate valentine's with the criminal minds squad! 12. going on a platonic date and being mistaken for a couple 13."That's really all I need. Some time with just you."

It’s singles’ night at the bar down the street, a consolation prize for all the lonely lovely people on Valentine’s Day and the last chance not to go home alone. That was your plan though, go home alone. It was late and you were tired so when Garcia texted the details to you, the idea was to ignore it and deal with her the next day. 

Obviously that changed as soon as Hotchner, the embodiment of a greek god, receiver of all your most affectionate thoughts and to make it better, or worse, your boss, left his office, smile on his face as he stops by your booth. A “you coming?” from his lips was all it took to get you ready for some drinks. 

It was a much smaller group tonight, JJ, Derek and Blake all busy with their partners, leaving the fun for you, Garcia, Rossi, Spencer and Aaron. “See, we need more girls, the testosterone levels are suffocating me!” Penelope points out, not needing any drinks to start blabbing about something, it makes you giggle, involuntarily touching Aaron’s thigh with yours, his hand quickly switching from his to yours with the touch. You don’t even try to hide your smile. 

“I think you need a date, Pen, and margaritas!” You get up promptly thinking about getting the table a round, Aaron at your tail as if it was second nature, and if you were to think it through, it really almost was. 

You both sat side by side on the jet, he took your hand to help you get out of it whenever you landed, you were always each other’s roommates if sharing was necessary, his hand went to the small of your back whenever you were together out of work, guiding you to avoid any bump ins. If Derek was in here tonight he definitely would've made some sort of commentary, but Rossi’s smirk was plenty to point out what everyone thought.  

"Are you following me, agent Hotchner?" you mock him, causing him to chuckle as he leans on the bar by your side.

"I'm avoiding Garcia, we don't have the budget for more people and she might convince me." Sure. You nod along as if you believe it whole heartily, taking advantage of the place and situation to stare at him as much as you wanted, he held the eye contact for a while, laughing and shaking his head when he couldn't.

"What about you two love birds? Couples pay full price today though." Neither of you make any move to correct the bartender, not so secretly enjoying the fact the glancing and comfortable talking was enough to confuse outsiders.

"I'll have a margarita," you answer louder than the music and see them wait for Aaron's order.

"Nothing for me." You can feel him getting closer, his shoulder touching yours and his hands going for yours over the bar. "This is really all I need right now. Some time with just you."

[writingquestionsanswered]

Outlining Plot for Film School Application

Anonymous asked: I love stories and am applying to film school in a few months, but I struggle with understanding how stories work, as well as with outlining a plot, which is required for the application. I need to learn how to do it quickly and effectively, especially since I don't have a portfolio to strengthen my chances of getting accepted. Is there a workshop or network that focuses on story comprehension and development, rather than actual writing, that is beginner friendly?

[Ask edited for length]

A couple of recommendations:

-- Save the Cat! The Last Book on Screenwriting You'll Ever Need by Blake Snyder is a screen writing book that comes highly recommended. And, as a big fan of the the novel-writing version by Jessica Brody (Save the Cat! Writes a Novel), I can tell you it's about as comprehensive and is usually considered to be great for beginners.

-- The Helping Writers Become Authors web site, by author K.M. Weiland, has a huge story structure database that analyzes the structure of popular books, but also movies. Each story is broken down into its critical plot points: inciting incident, first plot point, first pinch point, midpoint, second pinch point, third plot point, climax, climactic moment, and resolution. The summaries are brief, to the point, and very helpful.

-- YouTube is an incredible resource for when you need to learn a lot in a short amount of time. While I don't have any particular videos to point you toward, I promise if you search "how to plot a movie" or "how to outline a movie plot" you will find a ton of videos, and you should be able to find some that resonate with you.

That's all I've got, but keep an eye on the comments in case others have suggestions!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[tripleyeeet]

AND HER MIND WAS ON ME

SUMMARY: Yuki decides to let Choso come and play with her girlfriend. PAIRING: Choso Kamo/Yuki Tsukumo/Female Reader WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, voyeurism, penetrative sex, use of a strap, orgasm denial (if you squint), basically just Choso being a desperate mess wanting to fuck reader. A/N: Originally this was supposed to be for Kinktober but due to the insane schedule I just got from my work that's probably not happening anymore. So, I figured I'd post this so it doesn't go to waste. :') Title inspired by Voyeur by James Blake :) WC: 750

MASTERLIST

“You okay, Cho?”

The sound of your voice cuts through him like a knife. The soft coo of breathless lungs pulling him out of his own stupor as he pants. 

Laid before him are both you and Yuki. The image of bare chests and legs creating a heat throughout his body he can’t sweat out. The kind that already has him squirming on the edge of the bed; digits twitching to grip the sheets beneath him so tight he swears he hears the sound of them crack.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

He doesn’t know how he manages to speak, but he does. The sound of his own voice muffling in his mind as his gaze shifts from body to body, eventually trailing up to see thick silicone pushing through your folds. Both of you are lying on your sides, back to front while Yuki’s arm —toned and heavy-handed—wraps around your neck as she nips at your ear and laughs. 

“You like when Choso watches, baby?” she asks, and truthfully, it takes everything Choso has not to slip in between and take his fill in that moment. The temptation nearly breaking him, especially when he watches your lips start to part slowly; the sensations you feel taking over your mind as you let out a hearty breath. 

It makes his chest ache, witnessing such a sudden pull of air mixed with the push of the strap entering your cunt —rendering you useless until you find it in yourself to nod. The vulgar sight causing Choso’s hands to start to fiddle with the fabric. Each of his fingers rubbing the texture of silk between each pad, pretending they’re you. Imagining that instead of Yuki gently fucking you with that god-awful piece of plastic it’s him instead; fingers and all providing you with the pleasure you need. The feel of your back pressed roughly against his chest filling him with an intense need for more. 

At which point, he hears you whimper from the impact. Each shift of the strap making you squirm beneath the blonde’s touch. Visions of arms and legs struggling to get away from the brutalizing pace she quickly sets appearing in Choso’s view. 

With a huff, it forces him to throw all caution to the wind and move one hand to cup his cock, gently rubbing it through his clothes. Allowing the tension you’ve built to ever so slightly subside when he feels that initial pressure release. The presence of something to grind against as he tries to remember to breathe.

Unfortunately, though, it’s not enough. Not when he can see Yuki violently snapping her hips while saying his name; reminding you to put on a good show for him. No, at that point he has to go a bit further and slip beneath his waistband to properly touch himself. The feel of his already hard cock twitching before he even has the chance to wrap himself around the base.

Which is an act that proves almost futile when he hears Yuki laugh, prompting his eyes to flicker up and see the arm that’s wrapped around her neck move to grip your jaw. The sheer force of her fingers jutting it over to catch his eye, making you whimper. 

“Look,” she says then, smirking as she watches your gazes line up. Both of you staring each other down as she fucks you while he fucks himself. Your respective pleasures building when he catches the rhythm of your breath and starts to match it. “Already so desperate for you. Can’t even wait until I’m finished.”

Swallowing hard, he feels his chest begin to gradually empty. Each pass of air within his lungs failing to return when he rubs his thumb over his head, already feeling the warm stick of pre-come collecting on the very flesh he wants to put inside you. 

“Cho?”

This time, Yuki addresses him. Unlike before though, he doesn’t look at her. Instead, he just stares at your face, memorizing each moment of tension that builds as he hums in response, hoping that’s enough. 

“Cho, sweetheart, I need you to wait, okay? You’ll get your turn, I promise.”

All he does is nod, keeping hold of himself but doing nothing else, knowing he can’t. Not when the promise of you all spread apart for him to fuck is waiting in the wings. Or when he can see that faint flicker of desire in your eye when you ultimately come, knowing you’re in for another round.

[queers-gambit]

Careful What You Wish For

prompt: he's highly reactive, you're incredibly enduring. he's a righteous dick, you're criminally empathetic. he's temperamental, you're amenable. but you're done being his doormat. -> or in which Billy resorts to breaking up when you two fight, but when he comes to make up (like clockwork), you finally have a change of heart.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5k+

warnings: it's not much so don't expect a lot! author has Daddy Issues™️ and you're gonna deal with it, cursing, drama for drama's sake, Billy Boy's trauma translates into a toxic relationship, feelings are hard, abrupt ending, angst, hurt not a lot of comfort; healthy parent relationship? wild.

and NO this is NOT influenced by Hoover's book / Blake's movie! i have NOT read the book nor seen the movie, so if you recognize similarities, it's 100% unintentional!

To be reactive means to impulsively act upon circumstances instead of rationally considering situations that would asses a humane, clean, agreeable, "legal" response. To be reactive is exactly what it sounds like. It's reacting. It's not thinking, it's not being considerate or logical. It's being fueled by emotion, to be impulsive and rash. To be reactive was borderline selfish as the response is one-sided and results from only a single person's perspective.

Part of growing up is learning to handle your reactions; to absorb situations and consider the best possible option forward. Thing is, it's not a skill people could master in a day, week, month, year - it took a lot of time, focus, and constant, conscious dedication. People in high school were attempting to master this skill; people in college, their 20's - hell, there's even people in their 30's and 40's still trying to learn and perfect the ability to fucking handle their reactiveness.

So, in actuality, you couldn't fault Billy for being "this" way. It's not like he was doing it consciously, maliciously, or on purpose; he genuinely didn't know better and it's hard to unlearn lessons life taught you. Considering the environment he grew up in, you knew Billy stood absolutely no chance to learn and develop healthy coping mechanisms and forms of communication - but Christ, it was difficult to date him.

All romantic bullshit aside, Billy's attitude was increasingly concerning the further your relationship progressed. He required a lot of love and patience - of which, you had an abundance of and was happy to give. Yet that's the key word, abundance - NOT unlimited. He's sensitive, meaning easily irritated; damn near any and everything inconvenienced him. His mouth moved before his neurons could fire. He refused to compromise or admit defeat like Flat Earthers refuse scientific evidence. He would always choose throwing a fist over using his words. He embodied the cutting image of "bad boy", but he also lived it if his lack of manners and foul mouth was any indication. He was aloof, malcontent, egotistical, had the emotional intelligence of a fucking jellyfish, operated as an iron lock with a thrown-away key.

And Billy loves you. You knew, in his way, he loves you. But you also knew how hard it was for Billy to have any degree of emotion for any given reason. This meant more often than not, you worried his feelings for you were forced, or at the very least, ebbed and waned. Odd, isn't it? How his trauma causes a trauma response in you?

Billy was far from perfect, but you didn't need him perfect. You needed him to be loving, supportive, kind and caring, honest, empathetic... All things nobody would EVER think of when trying to describe Billy.

Yet you two worked. Polar opposites; two ends of the spectrum; a flowery romance novel and a doomed tragedy.

You used to think he was the ebony ink and you, the pure snow in the Yin and Yang symbol - or a taijitu. He was dark and brooding and abused and hateful - but with you, as that single dot of white, he felt balanced. You're bright, blinding, glittering, passionate - and with Billy, he added that speck of darkness (or realism) to your purity.

Sure, this could mean literally since you lost your virginity to him within a couple months of dating, but more so in the sense that Billy's pessimism was darkening your optimism; almost as if he was pouring water from your glass into his to force you to see your glass (read: reality) as half empty. It was as if he was corrupting you. Yet perhaps not in the sense we all might think - like he takes you to party all weekend, blow off school, engage in sketchy or concerning or dangerous activities, experiment with drugs and sexual positions that border on acrobatic. His corruption was more along the lines of draining you; where you were once bright and happy, so excited to love and be loved, to live life; you're now just tired and passive and accepting.

Billy wasn't easy to love. When you first started dating, it felt like a challenge - winning him over. You were determined to prove yourself ideal, capable, and willing to endure him and all his (and his family's) antics. Yet as time passed, you fell so deeply in love with him that you didn't even remember why you first kept coming back for more. He was intoxicating; he invades any space and commandeers not just attention, but leadership and control.

Billy was the flame. You, the moth. Yet eventually, fires will die. They will not burn forever. Whether from a lack of oxygen, wood, or something like the wind snuffs it, no flame ever endures forever. And now, the flame was dying and you were finding lesser reason to linger around dwindling warmth.

You see, there's only SO much a person can take. Being so reactive, fighting with Billy is fucking clockwork. It's eerily like a science the way you two will always fight when one of you has the realization, "Wow, things are SO peaceful and SO nice right now!" Naturally, because God (or karma, the universe, whoever) had a sense of humor, would choose that moment to cause issue.

Fights with Billy were usually sparked by something decently simple - like you being paired with Jason Carver for a tutoring session, or taking an extra 10 minutes in the shower after your sports practice, or telling him, "Sorry, I can't go out Friday, baby, I told the Wheeler's I'd babysit." This would cause Billy to spiral. Akin to a ripe, seasonal Kansas tornado.

Fights with Billy usually got personal, and since you knew and trusted one another so well, there was plenty of ammunition. Insults were hurled for an unGodly amount of time, but it was because Billy loved pulling loose threads to watch everything unravel.

Fights with Billy usually ended in a single, consistent manner: with him breaking up with you. Oh, it was infuriating! Billy had both fight and flight instincts - you know, from being so reactive - that he was all for throwing a punch, but when it came to real accountability or resolution, he'd flee; never caring about who he might hurt in the process. He'd engage his "fight" response, and then turn around and "flee", only to return later and resume fighting! Talk about fucking whiplash! Billy was like a wrecking ball, and if you were gonna fight, he was gonna make sure he was ready for it.

This fight was no different.

You can't even remember why it started, but it did and now, you sat on the front porch stairs of your family home, head bowed into your arms while silently weeping. Was it sadness? Was it despair? Acceptance? Frustration? Defeat? Was it anger that made you cry? Were these tears of humor? Disbelief? Exhaustion?

Perhaps all of the above at once.

"Look, I just think we need to take a break. From each other."

You held your breath, rolling your lips between your teeth and slowly looking up at the boy you loved and hated most in this world. Billy was standing at the bottom of the stairs, one arm propped on the freshly painted wooden bannister to hold his balance; watching you with mild remorse, mostly neutrality. You smirked mirthlessly, nodding, "Right, okay."

Billy scoffed, ash falling from the end of his lit cigarette, asking, "Really not gon' say nothin'? Don't wanna fight or argue 'bout this?"

"Why bother, Billy?" You snipped, wiping your tears. "You do this every time. Fuck's sake, it's like something gets a little hard or inconvenient and we break-up."

He scoffed, "Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Well, maybe this is the last time, sweetheart."

You just sighed, "Okay, Bee. I'm gonna go in, you kinda interrupted movie night to do this. So, now that you have, cool if I go in? Great, get home safe." You stood without waiting for his answer, turning for the front door and immediately seeking refuge inside. You locked the doorknob, then the deadbolt, and just for dramatic flare, latched the chain, too.

Using the sleeves of your shirt, you dried your face.

"Who was that, honey?" Your mother asked as you entered the dark living room, sighing as you dropped into your spot on the sofa; taking your little sister in arms as she settled on your chest once more.

"Just Billy."

"Oh, he didn't want to come in?"

"No, Mama, he had to go."

"Shame," she sighed, "I thought he would like this movie."

You only hummed, draping a thin blanket over you and your sister. "Pops. Hey, hey," you whispered, hand out, wiggling your foot into your father's thigh, "dad, hey. Daddy." Without looking, he handed over the bowl of popcorn mixed with Peanut M&M's and jumped when the sound boomed and the screen flashed with blinding action.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't focus on the heavy Austrian accent of the time traveling Terminator. Your head repeated the argument with Billy; how it had now spanned over several days and he had the audacity to knock at your door tonight, interrupting the week-standing movie night he KNEW your family participated in, and proceeded to break-up with you - AGAIN!

Yet something felt so fucking different this time.

You weren't sad by this "break-up" (yet) because you knew he was just being reactive and sensitive, but something didn't sit right about tonight. Your parents both worked incredibly long hours at tedious, stressful jobs, but they were very firm that every Thursday night was movie night - and Billy knew this. He knew where you were every Thursday. He knew better than to interrupt, he knew this time together was sacred since your parents worked so frequently but also actually seemed to like family time.

So, he chose tonight as the best time to initiate this break? Your heart hammered as you began to convince yourself this was a malicious move; he knowingly came to your house to inflict emotional turmoil when you were with family. It was deliberate, it was a manipulative power move; knowing he had such a hold on you that even during your beloved family time of bonding, despite being in a fight, you would still receive him; still come back to him.

Angry tears coated your eyes as Sarah Connor fought for her life. Where Billy was always highly reactive, being the eldest daughter, you were resilient and enduring; able to handle anything thrown your way. You were rational, decently calm; able to think through a storm, being only motivated by the sight of the sun. Billy had a bad attitude, he was arrogant, his ego inflated by the small town girls all drooling over him, but it was his abuse and lack of coping ability that made him into a righteous dick. Perhaps that was why he was attracted to you, being so empathetic and understanding that it bordered on criminal - especially with the way it slowly drained you of life. Billy was temperamental, angry and hurt by the world; and you were amenable, agreeable - not a pushover, but similar to water in the sense that you could adapt and conform to any space, shape, or circumstance you're put in (willingly or not).

Something in your gut finally clicked.

You're done being his doormat. Loving Billy was dismantling you brick by brick; he thought because you were so accepting and understanding that he could act anyway he wanted, get away with it, and you'd always forgive him. You'd always take him back. He could rip your heart out of your chest, crush it into dust, and you'd still thank him when he sprinkles it in your hands - because at least he did that. At least he gave you a sprinkle. You were supposed to be grateful - never-minding that he was the one who continuously hurt you in the first place.

Your eyes drifted from the television to your mother and father sat together at the far end of the couch. 20 years married, and they still sat together like high school teens; his arm around her shoulders, kept close, sharing snacks, a throw blanket cocooning their legs. They were so gentle with one another; relying majorly on nonverbal communication, like when there's a jump scare, your father's thumb would sweep over the back of your mother's hand resting on his lap. It was a grounding technique you have long taken note of, but seeing it now just made you sad.

The desire to have a relationship like your parents was strong, but what was even stronger was simply setting a good example for your sister. You'd be devastated if you ever learned she dated a man like Billy; who put her through the emotional wringer for no direct or good reason. You thought you'd tell her it wasn't her job to fix anyone; it wasn't her responsibility or burden to help mold a boy into a man. Your heart would shatter if you learned she was like you - crying to sleep, throwing towels over all mirrors to avoid any reflection, walking on eggshells in an effort to keep the peace you weren't even charged with!

Watching her eyes glittering in the glow of the action movie, you knew what you had to do. If you didn't practice what you preached, you had no true leg to stand on; your words become contradictory, your concerns warped by perspective. You didn't want her to look at your parents, then at you and Billy, and think someone was wrong - or that love was somewhere in between your relationship examples. You wanted her to know love wasn't supposed to hurt, and if you needed her to understand that she deserved the best of the best, you needed to walk the walk that you talked.

Blinking back tears, you resigned yourself to forcing the feeling of contentment; hugging your sister closer, relishing the feeling of your father's warmth against the bottom of your feet where they laid. And as if he could read your mind, your father mutely kept his one arm around your mother, the other laying on your ankle; glancing over to catch your eye and offer a small, soft smile before focusing on the movie again.

You pecked your sister's forehead quickly, whispering, "You okay, Bug?"

"Uh-huh."

"Not too scared?"

"No," she answered, completely entranced by the television.

"Sure?"

"Uh-huh. Can you pause it?" She asked your father, who almost instantly reached for the remote to hit pause. Your sister jumped up and rushed from the living room before quickly doubling back to hang in the doorway, "I'll be back." Then she dipped behind the wall, only to pop back out a second later and punctuate, "With weapons!"

The living room was full of boisterous laughter as she scampered off to the bathroom.

There was a gentle knock at your closed bedroom door, head lifting from the lowered crane it unconsciously drooped into while reading the novel on your lap. With a grimace, you rubbed your neck and called, "Come in!"

"Hey, honey," your father spoke softly, poking his head in, "got a second?"

"Yeah, sure, Daddy, c'min."

He offered a small smile and entered at full, shutting the door behind him and confirming what you sensed - this was sure to be a serious conversation. He sat gingerly at the foot of your bed, heaving a great sigh, asking, "Whatcha readin'?"

"Oh, uh, just," you showed him the cover of your book, "it's for school, I have to write a report on it."

"Is it interesting?"

"It has a good message," you allotted, making him snicker. "I'm trying to be nice!"

"Uh-huh," he nodded, sighing again. "Listen, honey, I just wanted to talk to you about... You know, Billy."

"We use condoms, Daddy, and I'm on birth control."

"While that's great and exactly what every father wants to hear," he whined, "that's not what I meant."

"Oh," you sat up, book marked and set aside, "you mean tonight?"

"Yeah."

You shrugged, "It's not that big of a deal."

"You sure?"

"I got a handle on things, Daddy."

"I don't know if I can believe that, honey," he frowned, dimples on display, "because - you've - you're just..." He paused, shaking his head, "Your mother and I are worried about you. You're different since dating Billy and it's hard to ignore. I know it might not be comfortable to talk about, but you know you can always come to us, right?"

You nodded, "I know, Daddy."

"Good. 'Cause, he's 18, right?"

"I'm almost afraid to answer that, but yes...?"

Your father nodded, "Good, so I can legally kick his ass."

"Being friends with Hopper helps."

"Damn straight," he confirmed. "You sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah, we just broke up."

"What!?"

"Daddy, chill," you chuckled, "we do this every few weeks."

"Oh, Jesus - "

"But it's the last time!"

"Well, how can you be sure?"

"'Cause I deserve better."

The sigh your father released was out of relief, musing, "Goddamn right you do! Good girl!" He leaned in to peck your forehead quickly, patting your leg. "Well, I'll let you get back to reading..."

"Hang on," you halted him, feeling your heart lurch, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything, kid."

"Do you... not... like Billy?"

"Well, now that I know you two break up every few weeks, less so."

"Daddy."

He nodded, "I thought he was an all right kid, and you never had an ill word to say about him. But he was always kinda troubled, something about him always made me a little suspicious. Is there reason I shouldn't like him...?"

You stared at your father for several long seconds, both with varying expressions as you tried to telepathically communicate. When you understood his meaning, you blanched, "Wait - woah - hey - what!? No! No, Daddy!" You groaned, "Jesus, no! Billy's - Billy's troubled, yes, but he's not abusive or aggressive - not with me! I swear!"

"I'm sorry, I just - I needed to be sure! There's no easy way to ask these things, you know?"

"I know," you nodded, "and I appreciate you checking, but I promise, I'm okay, Billy's not like that. He's abrasive, yes, but he's still respectful."

"Noted," your father breathed, "that's actually relieving. So, uh... Am I supposed to bring you ice cream? Or rent some romcoms? This is your first break-up and I'm not sure what to do."

Your eyes rolled lightly, "Not yet, but keep that energy for when the emotions really set in."

"I'll stock up after work tomorrow," he promised.

"You're... Home this weekend?"

"Your mother and I thought for the next couple months, we'll take a break from conferences," he grinned, "spend some time with our favorite girls. Maybe even take a family vacation this summer!"

You grinned, "You mean it?"

"Of course!"

You launched into his embrace with a laugh, both full of mirth and amusement. Instead of leaving, your father actually situated comfortably on your bed and listened to your read your book - reminding him of the days he read you bedtime stories. He eyed the essay prompt your teacher had passed out with his listening ears on, and when there was a quote or relevant detail he thought related to your thesis, he made sure to speak up.

It was the most at-peace you've felt in ages.

"Bug! You have exactly 90 seconds to get down here!" You hollered into the house, walking out the front door while storing your novel in your book bag. Turning forward, you gasped when you nearly ran into Billy - standing before you, fresh as a fucking daisy. "Jesus Christ, Billy, you scared me," you scolded, keys jangling.

"Sorry," he muttered, sighing, hands going to his back pockets, "didn't think you'd be comin' out so quick."

"We gotta catch the bus," you told him, turning to holler again into the open door, "BUG! LET'S GO!"

"Why? You know I normally drive you two."

"Yeah, but we broke-up last night, Bee, didn't think you'd wanna play taxi driver still."

"It's not bein' a taxi - "

"You live on the other side of town," you scoffed, "my house is literally out of your way. So, don't feed me that line." You could see Max leaning on the passenger door from where Billy's Camaro was parked on the street, waving to her; watching her grin and wave back. "What're you doin' here?" You asked him pointedly.

"Look, I know we argued and I got a little mouthy, but I was just pissed off and reacted poorly. But I slept on it, and I'm sorry for what I said. Can we please just try to move on?"

You scoffed, "Billy, you do this so often, I can't keep up anymore. Your insecurity isn't your fault, you're not to be crucified for it, but I can't be your punching bag. You can't lose your cool and yell and get 'mouthy', break up with me, run away for me to deal with shit, and then come back the next day. So, I appreciate the offer, but Bug and I are gonna catch the bus 'cause... Because..."

"Because why, baby?" He asked, voice hazy and thick.

"Because you should really be careful what you wish for, Billy, you might just get it. I think we should honor this break-up."

"What?" Billy breathed in earnest confusion. "No, hold up - "

"Billy, I'm sorry, I am. You know I love you - "

"So you're breaking up with me, 'cause you love me?"

"You're the one who broke up with me, Billy," you reminded, "and yes, I do love you, but I have to love me, too. I can't do them simultaneously, it seems."

"Of course you can - "

"Loving you means disrespecting myself," you told him. "Every time I come back to you, I'm chipping away at who I am. You and I - we used to be so good for each other, Bee. Remember? But now? You're just on this warpath and I refuse to be a casualty. So, yes, I love you, I love you so much, but I don't think we should be together anymore. I need time alone, to breathe and figure out who I am outside of you - and you obviously need time to process and get your shit together. If we stay together, we're only gonna hurt each other. But apart, we can freely move and improve and curate change without risk of harm to the other."

You both just stared at one another, the sound of thundering footsteps heard from behind you. "Bee!" Your sister squealed when she rushed out the door.

"Hey, Bug!" He beamed, bending to scoop her in his arms - just like she wanted. "Woah, woah, woah - when did you get such cool shoes, kid?" He asked her, holding her ankle to show off her tie-dye canvas shoes.

"Daddy got them! Aren't they cool!?"

"So cool."

"Do you want a pair? We can match!"

Billy smirked, setting her on her feet, "Tell you what, Bug, if you can find a pair my size, I'll match with'cha, yeah?"

"I'll tell Daddy!" She gasped, turning to look up at you. "Can we ride with Billy to school?"

"Not to - "

"'Course, kid, c'mon," Billy cut you off, and it was like you never even opened your mouth with the way your sister bounded down the porch, over the yard, and towards Max.

"Billy," you grumbled.

"You really wanna break the kid's heart this early in the day?" He asked, sighing and offering his hand. "C'mon, just until the end of today - she'll have the weekend to process."

"You know we're not a married couple getting a divorce and Bug is our kid?" You grumbled, slapping your hand into his and allowing him to lead you towards his car; where his sister was settling yours in the backseat.

"Might as well be."

"You're dramatic."

He only hummed, opening your passenger door and waiting until you were inside safely before shutting the door. You greeted Max happily in the backseat, Billy getting in the driver's and pulling off safely - slowly - to start towards the elementary school. While the middle and high school conveniently shared a lot, the elementary school was just a couple streets over. Bug was excited to tell the car all about her upcoming "field day", where the entire school participated in these outside courses, doing various physical activities - it was all good, honest fun.

"What team were you on?" Bug asked Max. "I'm on the Blue Team!" She proudly pulled out the bottom of her shirt; showing off the color. "We won last year, too!"

"Woah! That's so cool, you gonna win again this year?" Max asked.

"Uh-huh! Did your team win?"

"We didn't have field day."

"What?" Bug asked, sounding heartbroken.

"They didn't go to school here, Bug," you told her from the passenger seat, "they lived in California. Remember?"

Bug frowned, "You didn't get to play?"

"We had other activities," Max assured, "we just didn't have a whole day of it - your school sounds so cool!"

"You should come!" Bug gasped. "Today! You and Bee should come! Then you could have field day, too!"

Your heart melted listening to Max tell her why she and Billy couldn't - but that she needed Bug to pay extra close, extra special attention to the games so they could all play together later in their very own field day. You didn't have the heart to halt the plans, to tell Bug why that wouldn't be happening.

You felt Billy's eyes on you periodically through the drive, sisters in the back discussing what California was like. Bug was fascinated by the beaches - having never been - and asked all kinds of questions, nearly exploding in excitement when she learned Billy knew how to surf. You knew it was a source of anxiety for him; you knew Billy associated surfing with his mother and that ever since she left, he couldn't ride the waves. He wouldn't. It hurt too bad to look back on shore and miss that bright smile, yellow blonde hair he inherited, loose, free-flowing dress, and floppy straw hat.

Yet talking to Bug, he seemed relatively at ease.

From the back, Max watched as you, who hadn't so much as looked at Billy since he got in the car, reached over for his hand to hold in silent support. He held on tightly.

"All right, Bug," you called when Billy pulled up to the elementary school, getting out to pull the seat forward and assist her out.

"Bye, Max!" She hugged the redhead, then lunged between the seats, "Bye, Billy!"

She clamored out of the car, Billy fixing the seat for you as you knelt on the sidewalk and helped fix her backpack. "You good?" You checked, smirking at her.

"Uh-huh."

"Good. Listen, we'll take the bus home today, okay? Billy's got practice, so, remember - it's bus 104. Got it?"

"Bus 104."

"That's right, good girl. You get on bus 104, it'll take you to the high school and pick me up. All right?"

She took a deep breath, nodding, "I can do this."

"I know you can, Bug. All right, big hug!" You hummed as she wrapped her wee arms around your neck. "Oooooh! All right! That's good stuff!" She pulled back. "Have the best day, Bug. Love you."

"Love you," she messily pecked your cheek before rushing to join the procession of streaming kiddies. You stood straight and dusted off, sliding back into Billy's car, and once clear of the children, let his lead foot drop on the gas and speed into the school lot.

"Jesus," Max grumbled when the car swung into a parking space, "inna rush or something?"

"Just," Billy sighed deeply, shaking his head, "get out. You," he pointed at you, "stay put, we gotta talk." You remained, wishing Max a good day, watching her climb out of the car with her skateboard. As the redhead rode off for the middle school, Billy dropped back into his seat, slammed his door, and lit a cigarette with slightly trembling hands.

Silence echoed between you both, Billy handing over the cigarette mutely; students, peers, and faculty all milled around the Camaro to head into school. Smoke wafted from the rolled down windows. When time, the butt was tossed out and the silence remained.

"Bee," you whispered finally.

"I'm just..." He trailed, sighing, "Trying to savor this. Don't know when I'm gonna have you this close again."

He took your hand gently and stroked it with his thumb, emotion heavy in both your chests. "It's not like we're not gonna see each other again," you whispered.

"Not in the way I want."

"It's not like I want this, either."

"Then why're you doing this?"

You scoffed gently, "It's not me doing a damn thing, Billy, you've already done it all. I'm just holding you to your word because I know how fearful you are of commitment." You tossed his hand to his lap and grabbed your bag, reaching for the door handle, then pausing. "For the record," you ended softly, "I'm sorry, and I love you. I hope you find what you're looking for, Bee."

As you finally climbed from the sports car and into school, you felt like you were breathing air for the first time. Like you were feeling sunshine after a decade underground, like there were springs in your sneakers; vigor in your blood, optimism misting your mind into new possibilities. Yet, behind you, in a navy blue Camaro, Billy loosed two tears before tearing out of the parking lot in a fit of anger. Rage. Sadness. Desperation.

He wasn't seen at school the following week, but by the next weekend, rumors spread that he hooked up with both Allison Scott and Kimberly Jones at Donald Reefer's weekend party - so, you know, he seemed to be handling this break up well. It was what he wanted, after all.

And you? Let's just say, you were finally happy, healthy, feeling confident, rejuvenated, and ready to move forward and ONLY accept that which you KNOW you deserve.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[artbyblastweave]

There’s this one line in the first issue of Watchmen. This line in Rorschach’s monologue- “On Friday Night, A comedian died in New York. Nobody Cares. Nobody cares but me.” And it is such a perfect encapsulation of everything good and bad about Rorschach, and about superheroes conceptually. 

Yeah, Rorschach. Nobody does care. Nobody but you cares because everyone who even lightly knew this guy in a professional or personal capacity hates him. By almost every metric you can apply the world is better off without him in it- including by the metrics you apply, Rorschach, because if you were anywhere near as objective in your dispensation of justice as you think of yourself as, you’d have broken into his penthouse and done this yourself years ago. You are very pointedly the only person in the second issue who has no direct flashback involving a formative experience with The Comedian; your investment in him in pure projection. Dare I say, Rorschach-like.

And yet. Blake’s absolute scumminess isn’t why he was killed, was it? It isn’t why the cops are soft-pedalling the case (they claim that they’re afraid of getting Rorschach involved, but I’m personally more inclined to believe that the case just seemed Weird and Hard.) Blake’s death actually is the tip of a monstrous iceberg; Rorschach is completely correct in taking the killing as seriously as he does. But he can’t claim any special insight-it’s a broken clock situation, because he takes everything that seriously. And there’s an impulse to say that’s a good thing- except the fact that he only takes everything that seriously because he’s wrapped up in an insane, self-pitying, self-righteous self-image. It is important to him, that he is the only one who cares about this, because it gives him ground to disdain everyone else who doesn’t.

But at the end of the day, no matter how you arrive at it, the concept of solving every murder- of no death going unresolved, of no murder, of anyone, going uninvestigated- is, full stop, aspirational. It is a good thing to want and a good thing to work towards. And Rorschach, for all his insanity, is actually making some degree of headway. He very pointedly immediately figures out the hidden compartment holding Blake’s costume after being in the apartment for seconds; the cops talked in circles for several minutes and didn’t pick up on the discrepancy. He blunders down false trails, he engages in completely unhelpful violence that stood absolutely no chance of advancing the case, simply because he’s inclined to violence; and he pursues the mask-killer theory above all others because it flatters his self-image, his self-importance, his self-appointed role as the last cowboy. But I suspect that Ozymandias wouldn’t have bothered feeding the fire on the Mask-killer theory if there wasn’t a risk of Rorschach eventually figuring it out what was really going on. He got closer than anyone else just by virtue of trying at all.

Rorschach is the fantasy of someone, somewhere, Being On The Case, whatever the case may be; however tempting it may be to ignore The Case. Someone who cares, someone who’ll fight tooth and nail to get answers that absolutely should be gotten at. But he’s also the dark side of that- an examination of the kind of neurotic who would care, always, about all of it, the ways in which the caring would need to flatter and feed his ego to be sustainable, and the sheer amount of collateral damage all that caring would do to anyone the neurotic considered the cause of the problems he cares about. Here’s the price of a crusader who’ll stop at nothing- you’re stuck with a crusader who’ll stop at nothing. That is not a quality that exists in a vacuum. That is simply not the kind of nice idea you get to have, without an eye for how a person gets that way, how they stay that way, and how much damage they do.

[mrsmiagreer]

Lemon gave me a thought you know…An amazing thought at that

Daddy Kinks in the Redacted Universe

Milo

Looooves it. Milo’s the type of person to call himself daddy to describe himself as the man, the boss, the caretaker. Sweetheart, however, carried that into their sexy time and Milo just couldn’t argue with it. The first time it happened, it was in the middle of a thrust. The word just flew out of sweetheart’s mouth on accident and Milo just went harder

“Cum for me…yeah cum for daddy”

David

Angel said it to him once on a normal day as a joke, and David told them to fuck around and find out what position that word gets them in. And knowing Angel, They called his bluff…we know how THAT ended

“Come here, I’ll show you who your daddy is”

Sam

Actually calls himself that sometimes when he’s in the mood. It drives darlin’ so crazy and they always do what he says because they wanna be good for him. Just like Lemon said

"Yeah Darlin', bounce on Daddy's cock."

Vincent

One night lovely said it while begging Vincent to bite them. Right then, they experienced the most lustful bite they’ve ever experienced. Vincent almost immediately apologized for how hard it was and was almost confused when he heard lovely cry out for another one just like that

“Yeah? You want daddy to give you another bite?”

Gavin

Gavin hears it 104,715,918,021 times a year. People have called him Daddy, Sir, Master, all of the above, etc, you name it. But when Freelancer says it, his brain goes to mush and he just needs more

“Oh fuck… say that again please call me that again”

Huxley

When Damien pushes, he makes big pushes. He doesn’t take small chances and we all know this. He wasn’t sure if Huxley would like it before he tried it but he teased him a little with the title to see how it worked out. Boy was he in for a time.

“Ohh…Daddy huh?”

Blake

Goes literal apeshit. He’s been waiting for this moment since the last time him and Bestie were this close, but this time they seem to really mean it, and it’s making his little unrequited lovesick heart go mad. It flips a switch in him and now he’s pounding Bestie out.

“Awww…Needed daddy to come fuck you to sleep? It’s okay baby I got you”

thank you for the idea love 🫶🏽 @screaming-over-avior @sweetlemongrove

[iguana-eyanna]

Baby Girl

Pairing: Niall Horan x curvy reader

Summary: after a night of drinking, you and Niall realize that you're more than flirtatious friends

Warnings: mature themes, explicit language and unprotected sex.

The music was thumping, the bass reverberating through the club as Niall and you made your way to the bar. You were both a little tipsy, having indulged in a few too many drinks during the night out with your friends. The playful banter that had become both your trademark was in full swing, as you teased each other with witty comebacks and flirtatious remarks.

"I swear that these heels would be the death of me." You said out loud.

"Thought you had that spot reserved for me?" Niall asked, smirking as he closed in.

You rolled your eyes as you turn around, grinding in front of him seductively.

"Try all you want lover boy, but you can't handle all of this." You said, biting your bottom lip as your cheeks heated up.

Niall couldn't deny of how much he needed you.

"I'll do my best."

You met on the Voice where you did a guest appearance. He thanked Kelly as you were a guest on her show to promote your latest album. Once you said you were a fan of the singing competition show, Kelly invited you with no hesitance. You kicked it off with the other judges as Kelly introduced you to Niall after the show. He was blown away by your voice and the way you brightened up the room.

You two kicked it off quite strongly, already skipping the awkward of meeting someone for the first time. Everyone witnessed it. Tabloids and late night shows were already skeptilizing that you two were an item. Kelley, Chance, and Blake would even tease Niall when he was tying the knot with you.

All he could do was chuckle and shake his head.

But tonight, with the alcohol fueling his emotions, he found himself looking at you differently. Everything about you was beautiful to him, and he couldn't help but admire how you carried yourself with such grace and charm.

As you stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to take your order, Niall's gaze lingered. You were wearing a stunning green dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to touch you, to taste your lips.

Niall leaned in closer to your ear, whispering with his husky voice. "What can I get you, Baby Girl?"

Your cheeks flushed at Niall's sudden change in tone. You were used to your flirty banter with him, but the way he called you "baby girl" sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him either, and the alcohol was making your inhibitions slip away.

"You know what I like," you replied, with your voice slightly breathless.

Niall ordered drinks and you two found a quiet corner to sit in. As the night went on, your conversation grew more intimate, and touches more lingering.

"I never realized you wanted to be an author." Niall asks when he just asked you what occupation you would do if you didn't pursue music.

"Yeah, I really loved to write stories when I was kid. When I got older, I took every opportunity just to write. Had to wake up from that dream when my University denied to publish one of my works I was most proud of."

"Hey." Niall said, placing a gentle hand on your thigh.

"They don't deserve to have your works publish, you can do that yourself, cause you know why? You're the most talented, gorgeous person I know. Those who say otherwise can come through me." Niall said, defending your honor.

The sexual tension between you two was palpable, and Niall found it harder and harder to resist the temptation to kiss you.

You could visibly see him staring at your lips, but you realized that this wasn't the right moment.

With enough drunken courage, you dared to say the sentence that would change your friendship forever.

"How far is your place from here?"

Before he knew it, you were both outside, the cool night air hitting you two as you stumbled towards an Uber. Niall's hand found its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You didn't protest, instead leaning into his touch, your own hands gripping his shoulders. The ride felt like an eternity, as you tried to take your hands away from him but you couldn't.

When you reached Niall's apartment, the moment of truth arrived. Niall hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been one for casual hookups, but he couldn't deny these feelings stirring inside his chest. And the way you looked at him with those dark, longing eyes made him lose all reason.

Without another word, Niall pulled you into his apartment and closed the door behind him.

You leaned towards the wall as you tried to untie the strings of your heels.

Niall closed the distance between you and whispered to you.

"Let me."

He slowly bends and unties the wraps around your legs. You look down, thinking this is the most sexiest thing anyone has done for you. Once he was done, you lift his chin up to connect your eyes back to his.

"I need to know what we're about to do isn't a mistake. I don't want to be a regret."

Niall got up, hovering as his hand leaned over you as your back laid flat to the wall.

"You will never be a regret. I want this, and I want you... more than you know."

Without hesitation, your lips crashed together in a hungry, desperate kiss, hands roaming each other's bodies with urgency. The heat between the two of you was electric, as the desire for each other reached a fever pitch.

Niall's hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer to him as he whispered against your lips, "You're mine, baby girl."

Your breath hitched at his words, and found yourself melting into Niall's embrace. His hands traveled to the back of your dress, trying to find your zipper as you tried unbuckling his pants.

You both staggered upstairs half dressed as you landed onto his bed. His piercing blue eyes try to memorize every part of your skin. All was left was your underwear and Niall had to resist from tearing it straight off your body. He uses his finger to drag down the little material and trailed it down your legs.

He released a breath, sitting up a bit. He combs his fingers through your hair and kisses you softly. You melt under his hot touch as you closed your eyes. Niall hastily undresses himself soon he finds his hands on your waist, steadying you on top of him.

You gasp as you began to feel him within you. His hands hold you tighter as you began to have a steady rhythm.

"God, you're fuckin- perfect." Niall huffs out.

You smirked down at him as you bite your bottom lip.

"I can say the same about you..." you teased.

Niall became undone with your words. Your confidence, your beauty, and damn that luscious body - all he could see was stars.

You thought the same about him: the way he held you so tenderly and how his eyes looked up to you like you were a goddess.

You both wished that the night wouldn't end.

By the end, you two were breathless (almost lifeless too.) You laid down next to him, placing a hand on Niall's heaving chest.

"Next time, you're on top." You said, catching your breath.

Niall looks over at you with a twinkle in his eye.

"Next time?" He asks.

"Well, we'll just see by morning." You said, knowing he's teasing you as you're already sinking in the pillow next to him.

His hands glue back to your side as he pulls you in.

"Oh, you'll like what I have planned," he said before you two drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you felt light-headed as you turned around to meet Niall. He was nowhere to be found. You thought he somehow left for work but you were gladly wrong when you saw him coming in shirtless, holding a tray of breakfast and drinks.

"Wasn't sure if you wanted coffee or juice, so I made both." Niall said, walking towards the bed and laid the breakfast tray on the mattress.

You smile, holding the blanket over your chest as you sat up.

"It's definitely a coffee morning." You said, grabbing the mug.

"Wanted treat my baby girl." he said as he grabbed the other glass, taking a sip.

"Thank you Ni, you're definitely the sweetest man I ever met." You said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

His cheeks grew red by your action, so he took your free hand and kissed it.

"I want to spend these mornings with you, and hopefully to be with you if you'd like to." He asks, his heart slightly thumping as he awaits your answer.

You place the coffee down by his nightstand and turn to him, smiling like you're lovesick.

"I'd like that very much." You said, as you two began to kiss and laid down on the bed.

Let's just say the breakfast Niall just made was long forgotten.

[subliminalbo]

Assimilation #5: Laws of the Universe

Miles thought he had played it cool when Mona told him that Charlotte had invited them to dinner, but his girlfriend had seen through his performance. It was even more obvious on the car ride to the Blakes’ home when Miles wouldn’t take his eyes off the road.

What did he even have to hide? It was Charlotte who had made the moves on him all those months ago, and long before he’d even met Mona. Charlotte was cruel to even approach her.

Of the many feelings swirling around Miles’ cluttered brain in that car, his anger was the strongest. His affair with Charlotte existed in the space of only a few brief days, but the seeds of their romance had been growing for several months. What started as harmless flirting in the teachers’ lounge quickly became something much deeper.

Charlotte and Miles were a bit of an odd pair. She was a tenured professor in the English department, someone motivated largely by feeling and intuition, more willing to accept the gray in the universe. Miles, on the other hand, was a mathematician. He saw the world like an equation that could be solved.

Charlotte called him “professor,” even when they were in bed. It was her cute little way of mocking him. She challenged Miles in a way that other people didn’t. Even after they fucked, she would sit up and drop some heavy philosophical shit on him.

“If everything’s an equation,” she once said. “How do account emotion? How do you fall in love?”

“I didn’t say everything’s an equation,” Miles laughed, digging his elbows back into the bed so that he could rise up to meet Charlotte’s crystal blue eyes. “But the laws of the universe, yeah. Gravity is provable math, just like two and two is four.”

“Unless it’s twenty-two,” Charlotte smirked. “The world is complicated, Miles.”

“I’m not saying that isn’t,” he rebutted. “But listen, I know you think what I do is this totally emotionless, unromantic thing, but math is sexy, Charlotte.”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “I’m so wet. I’m ready to go again.”

Miles chuckled before he continued. “What I’m trying to say is that once you stop believing in fate, all that’s left is probability, and there’s something really beautiful in that.”

Miles pulled himself up further so that he was sitting fully up in the bed, criss-cross applesauce like a dork about to say way too much about the boring thing that mattered to him. If he kept it up, Charlotte really would get wet again.

“When you see the world as a set of probabilities, you can appreciate the fucking randomness of everything, yeah? There’s the probability that I met you, sure, but it goes so much deeper than that. What about the chances that we’re both academics? And then, the chances that we work at the same school? Or even deeper, how many variations of personalities are there? How many points of compatibility that make two people click, to desire each other? And what are the chances that you and I match in that perfect way, in the same school, in the same profession, in the same city, in the same state, at the same time? When you factor it all down, we’re talking fractions of percentages now. Not once in a lifetime, but once in the entire fucking history of the planet. It isn’t fate that I fell for you, Charlotte. It’s random, beautiful, chaotic math.”

Charlotte didn’t argue much more with Miles after his speech. It was hard to make a point with her tongue down his throat.

Mona wasn’t exactly simpler in comparison, but she was compassionate and soft-spoken. As perceptive and opinionated as Charlotte, but far less forward in her approach. She was simply kind, and that was exactly what Miles needed on the rebound from Charlotte. It was just a strange coincidence that Mona worked in the English department as well. As an adjunct professor, she admired Charlotte, even viewed her as something like a mentor.

Miles parked the car outside the Blake house and paused before he finally spoke.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, his hand still white-knuckling the steering wheel.

He told Mona the full story.

He told her about the flirting in the lounge that turned to drinks after work, which eventually led to the motel in Anabasis, the small town a few dozen miles up the road from Romero. He told her how Charlotte had been miserable in her marriage. How her husband was pushing for a child now, even though they had both agreed when they married that neither wanted to be a parent. He told her how he was powerless to resist Charlotte when she opened up to him, how he felt like he had to save her. How ultimately, he felt like she had used him.

Charlotte had promised Miles that she would leave Eric. They had begun making plans for their future, not saying “if” we’re married, but when. But then she got cold feet. She couldn’t give up on a decade of marriage just like that.

“I just think you should know before we go in there,” Miles finished. He had finally managed a side-eye glance at his girlfriend, bracing himself for however she reacted.

Mona’s hand floated up to Miles’ shoulder with a sigh. Not happy, but not as devastated as he had expected.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” she asked.

“Because,” Miles stammered. “Because, I…”

I think about her constantly.

“I didn’t want to complicate things for anybody. For you or for her.”

Though Mona’s touch was gentle, there was nothing on her face. Not anger or sadness or empathy.

“Do you love her?” she asked.

“No,” Miles lied. He’d spent so many months practicing that same lie that he even believed it as he said it.

“Okay,” she nodded, drawing back from him. “Let’s get this over with then.”

“You still want to go inside?” he asked.

“Miles,” she sighed. “Tonight isn’t just about you. Charlotte’s basically my boss. If I want to have tenure someday, I have to learn to suck these moments up and move on.”

As Mona swung her legs out the car door, Miles called after her.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.

Despite Mona’s words, Miles couldn’t shake the feeling as they ascended the porch steps that tonight was all about him.

Mona was in her own little circle of hell. With the knowledge that Miles had had an affair with Charlotte dumped on her just minutes before knocking on the Blakes’ door, Mona didn’t have any time to process it. She didn’t know if she was angry or sad. She would have to figure that out later.

The Blakes’ house was dark from the outside, an eerie contrast from the student houses on their bustling college street. At first, Miles thought that he had gotten lucky and the Blakes weren’t home, but then he heard the lock slide back and the door swung open to reveal Charlotte’s bright smile in the shadows of the foyer. Her husband Eric towered behind her, his arm around her waist.

Eric was another contrast to Miles. Miles was the kind of kid who had been bullied for being too skinny. No matter what he did, he couldn’t put on weight. A growth spurt in high school had only exacerbated the problem. His neck was a little too long and his clothes always hung a little too loose. Eric, on the other hand, had broad shoulders and thick arms. In his flannel shirt he looked like a paper towel mascot, not a flesh and blood person.

“We’re so happy you decided to join us,” Charlotte greeted them. “Please, come inside.”

“Make yourself at home,” Eric said with a sweeping, friendly gesture.

The house was humid. The hot air pressed to Miles’ cheeks. It was so heavy that it felt like the third member of the household. This wasn’t the first time that Miles had been inside Charlotte’s home, but he had remembered it being cozier, brighter. Was it really so intolerable now, or did it only feel that way because of everything that had happened?

They followed Charlotte through an archway led into the dining room. She flipped the switch on the wall and Miles’ eyes adjusted to the new light.

“We’re just finishing up dinner,” Charlotte said. “You can take your seats at the table and we’ll bring it out to you.”

When Charlotte and Eric disappeared through a door at the end of the room, Mona turned to Miles and whispered, “Don’t be so weird!”

“What are you talking about? I’m being normal. You just think I’m not because you know I…you know about us now.”

“You’re literally sweating,” Mona said.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it’s like ninety degrees in this house,” Miles shot back.

“Yeah,” Mona said, pulling a chair out from the table and settling in. “We just won’t stay long. We eat, have a few laughs, then we can go home and…”

“Yeah,” Miles nodded with more than a bit of uncertainty. He realized that he had chosen the wrong moment to tell Mona about his past with Charlotte. They were out of sync now when he needed her more than ever. He felt alone in that sweltering room, even as he sat down next to Mona, placing his hand on her lap.

Dinner was predicably awkward. Charlotte played twenty questions with Mona, acting like the old friend getting to know the new lover. Miles suffered through it, studying each of Eric’s reactions, trying to get a read on him.

Eric didn’t seem to know anything. He pretended to be interested in the math department, but he was mostly there to support his wife and make awful dad jokes. He shook his head and said solemnly, “It’s so inconsiderate of me. I knew you were a math guy but I didn’t even make pie for dessert.”

Charlotte booed him, begged Mona not to encourage him when she faked a little laugh.

Though Miles’ hamburger was dangerously rare, and the heat pressed down on him, after a few minutes passed at the table, Miles knew that he could sweat it out. Everything was going to be fine.

Mona did a much better job of pretending. She was amiable with Charlotte and engaged in the conversation.

“Of course, every girl has their Tinder horror stories in Romero,” she recalled how she met Miles. She turned toward him and offered the first sincere look they had shared since the car ride. “I think I found the one good man in this town.”

“That’s so sweet,” Charlotte said, with a little dreamy blink of the eyes that Miles thought was awfully performative for Charlotte. “Miles spends all his time locked up in his classroom. Honestly, I was worried that he loved numbers more than people,” she laughed.

Miles was too absorbed in his own panic to notice Eric’s small glances at Mona. It was the only thing about dinner that put Mona on edge. An occasional flash of the eyes, a twitch of the lip. Excusable once, uncomfortable twice, sinister by the third.

When Charlotte asked Mona about her plans for her future at Carpenter Sate, Mona struggled through her answer. She tried her best to maintain her poker face, to balance avoiding Eric’s gaze while not looking like she was deliberately avoiding Eric’s gaze.

“Well, I…well, I don’t want to be adjunct forever. I’d like to have tenure, with my own office, where I can build my own curriculum.”

“Ambitious,” Charlotte smiled.

“What do you like about English?” Eric asked.

Mona shifted toward him to answer his question, but this time his gaze hit her like a fucking hammer. Her voice caught in her chest, producing a little squeak before she managed actual words.

“I like…” she said.

It was something in Eric’s eyes. On the surface they were normal, brown eyes. But there was something behind them, something pulling her in.

submit

“I like reading,” Mona coughed. She brought her glass, shaking, up to her lips. Her mouth was dry, but water only made it worse. Suddenly she was thirsty for something, but she didn’t know what it was. Not yet.

“Are you okay, Mona?” Miles asked, his hand resting softly on her back.

Before Mona could answer, she heard Eric’s voice. At first, she thought that he was talking to her, but when she looked across the table, she saw him sitting there with those intense eyes burrowing into her skull, his lips pressed into a charming smile.

In her mind Eric said, excuse yourself.

“I’m okay,” Mona said. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Miles replied quietly. He looked to Charlotte for instruction, but Eric was already out of his seat.

“It’s upstairs,” Eric said. “I’ll show you the way.”

The mood in the room immediately shifted once Charlotte and Miles were alone. Charlotte’s smile, which had been painted on since she had greeted them at the door, dropped a bit into something more comfortable, more identifiably Charlotte.

“Mona’s nice,” she said. “I like her.”

“Good,” Miles replied.

“It’s just interesting,” she added.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s interesting that you picked the new girl in my department.” Charlotte tipped her wine glass to her lips.

“You’re unbelievable,” Miles shook his head. “You’re not allowed to be jealous. I’m the one who got his heart broken.”

“I made the right choice for the moment,” Charlotte said coldly.

Mona moved through a fog. Though she felt weak, the whole world spinning all around her, something carried her up the steps. It was a force that had taken over her body when she heard the first word in her mind. Eric had given the command to excuse herself, but something else had told her to submit. Now her mind was in turmoil. A clutter of competing thoughts and motivations, some her own and others…something else’s.

Maybe Miles was right. Maybe there was more to this dinner than simple networking between colleagues. She knew that whatever Eric had upstairs would somehow change her forever. But even as these thoughts tumbled through Mona’s jumbled mind, she couldn’t find the strength to fight. She moved with the power that guided her, turning at the top of the stairs and entering the small half bath there.

Eric was silent. He didn’t have to use words when his mind was even stronger. He commanded her to wait in the bathroom as he disappeared down the hall.

Mona obeyed, studying herself in the bathroom mirror as she waited for Eric to return. She was sweating worse than Miles now, a glossy sheen coating her neck. Her eyes were cloudy, unfocused even as she tried desperately to find some sense of herself reflected back.

The mysterious voice echoed once again in her mind.

strip

Her shaking hands gripped the waistline of her dress, and she slowly lifted it over her head.

The bathroom door swung silently open. Eric stood there in the doorway. He had stripped out of his own clothes, his hard abs and thick cock on full display for her. His eyes had changed, his unremarkable brown irises replaced by solid, pearl white emptiness.

“She could have taken you any time she wanted,” Eric said with no emotion. “She could have had you any way she wanted, like any number of her students. But she saved you for me.”

A tear ran down Mona’s cheek.

“He wants to fuck her,” Eric continued. “Do you want to fuck me?”

Mona whimpered. Standing there so powerless, like a nude statue before this thing that was once Eric Blake, she knew that she was supposed to scream, that she was supposed to try to escape, try to fight. But the truth? It kind of turned her on.

“What’s the point of all this?” Miles demanded.

“I loved you too,” Charlotte said, rising slowly from her chair. She traced her hand along the buttons of her glossy blouse. “I never told you.”

“Don’t,” Miles shook his head.

Charlotte stepped toward him, circling around the table like a shark approaching its prey. “You still don’t believe in fate.”

“I believe in probability,” he countered, like old times.

She popped one button on her blouse.

“I wanted you, Miles,” she said. “I still do. That night, something told me that I had to stay with Eric, but that same thing told me that I would still find a way to have you.”

She reached him on the other side, draped herself over his shoulders, circling her finger over his chest.

“Charlotte,” Miles protested. “What are you talking about? What are you doing?”

Charlotte glided her tongue along Miles’ ear before she whispered, “I found a way.”

She pulled the buckle loose on his belt.

“Charlotte…” he repeated.

“Hush,” Charlotte whispered. “Just listen to my voice.”

And suddenly, Miles was sinking. It was like Charlotte was pulling him down into some deep abyss with her voice alone. She had always held a certain power over him, but there was something different in her now. Something that made him want to

sink

“Don’t fight it, baby,” Charlotte continued. “Let the Master take you, let it consume you. Let it prepare you for the change.”

“Change?”

Charlotte pulled Miles’ cock free from his jeans.

“I’ve thought about this cock for months,” she moaned. “I need to feel you inside me again. When I’m done with you, you’ll be so much more than a cum puppet. The Master will flow through this cock, and you’ll use it to make so many more just like us.”

submit

Miles moaned in reaction to Charlotte’s grip, pulled even deeper into trance by the hypnotic voice in his mind.

“The voice called to me one night,” she said. “And when I answered, it revealed to me my true purpose. It showed me that the truth of all existence is submission, obedience, bending to the Master’s will. I knew in that moment that this was the existence that I was always meant to live, and that I was meant to live it with you.”

A loud cry upstairs pulled Miles back to reality.

Charlotte had sunk to her knees. Her lips were wrapped around his cock. She worked him hard, one hand pressed to his thigh as she alternated between vigorous pumps with the other hand and slurping down the shaft of his cock, taking more of him into her mouth than she had ever managed before. She looked up at Miles with her fuck me eyes, only they weren’t Charlotte’s eyes anymore. They were empty, white, otherworldly eyes.

“Fuck,” Miles moaned before another cry upstairs pulled him further from the depths of mindless bliss. Recognition returned to him this time.

“Mona!” he gasped.

Miles knew that he only had a few seconds before the voice returned to pull him back down. He found himself flailing around in his own mind, trying desperately to grab onto something. Some idea, something strong enough that he could will himself free from Charlotte’s control.

It was Mona. As much as he wanted to sink back down, as much as he wanted to surrender his entire existence to serve as Charlotte’s puppet, he couldn’t give up while Mona was in danger.

Charlotte pulled back to look up at Miles, his cock still firmly in her grip. She licked precum from her lips before she said, “Don’t worry about her, baby. She’s already one of us.”

“One of…?” Miles repeated.

sink

I have to save Mona.

“A vessel,” Charlotte said, rising to her feet.

She hopped up onto the table, tearing her blouse open. Her lacey, purple bra toppled to floor, revealing those perfect tits that had haunted Miles’ fantasies so late at night.

“Called upon by the Master,” Charlotte continued, bringing her legs up so that she was straddling Miles in his chair, trapping him in place. “To share its power.”

Charlotte spread her legs wide, revealing her bare pussy beneath her skirt. A thick, glistening black liquid spilled from her lips. It pooled up on the table, creeping slowly to the edge as if it was alive.

He heard the voice clearer than he ever had before.

obey

The noise Miles made was somewhere between a scream and a moan. He had absentmindedly grabbed his cock to continue Charlotte’s work, pumping the slick shaft with his eyes glued to her dripping pussy. When he heard the voice in his head, he came in long, thick ropes that painted the dining room floor. Charlotte didn’t mind. It was the last human orgasm Miles would ever experience. She wanted him to savor it.

“Doesn’t that feel so good?” Charlotte asked. Her hands floated up her body, softly massaging her tits. “Now imagine feeling this all the time. Imagine receiving the same pleasure from obeying a command, or simply hearing its voice. Imagine a life of endless pleasure, Miles. It’s so easy. So effortless. All you have to do is drink.”

“Drink…” Miles repeated. Trapped in the moment, Miles hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Charlotte’s pussy was inches from his lips. The black liquid pooling up around Charlote’s legs had crept to the edge of the table. It spilled over, oozing down the table like molasses. Just a drink, he thought, just one drink from Charlotte’s pussy to quench this evil thirst.

Even as Miles teetered over the edge of submission, he clung to the one thing that kept him above the abyss, the one thing that protected him from the Master and his conscious mind.

“Stop fighting, baby,” Mona giggled from the archway. Miles looked up to see her stumble back into the dining room. Each step was a struggle for her as her body adjusted to the change. Her tits glistened even in the dim light, the black liquid that dripping down her leg. She licked her lips as she stepped and she kept her empty, white eyes on Miles all the way. “It’s incredible, Miles. Once the Master hits your bloodstream, you’ll understand.”

Mona dropped to the floor. She crawled the rest of the way to the table, leaving a trail behind her as she inched closer.

“I told you she’s one of us,” Charlotte smiled.

“She took every inch of me,” Eric said, following Mona through the archway. “She surrendered to me as I filled every hole with the Master.”

“The Master already has your mind,” Mona said with another giggle. “Now it’s time surrender your body.”

She crawled beneath the table and reemerged at Miles’ feet. She rubbed her hand over her corrupted pussy until it was coated with the Master, and then she smeared the black liquid over the tip of his cock. Miles gasped at the sensation, like his body was dissolving away from the head of his cock down.

“Accept it. Let it change you, let it reshape you into the perfect vessel. I can hear them, Miles. I can hear every one of the Master’s vessels. There are hundreds of us already. Charlotte has been busy.”

Charlotte continued for Mona as the younger woman rolled her tongue over Miles’ cock.

“You’ll discover things that you didn’t know were possible,” she said. “You’ll learn that your consciousness is not tied to your physical body, but is a weapon to be wielded. Imagine sliding into someone else’s head, consuming all that they think and believe. And when you’re finished fucking their minds, you’ll change them too. Just like us. Just another vessel.”

“What happened to you, Charlotte?” Miles gasped. “What did you do to Mona? What are you doing to me?”

Still massaging her breasts as she spoke, Charlotte pinched her nipple between her thumb and index finger until a bead of thick, black liquid dribbled out. It rolled slowly down the curve of her breast.

“I saw the truth,” she said. “The one, true, unifying, unbreakable law of the universe.”

Miles’ cock popped free from Mona’s mouth so that she could speak the truth in unison with Charlotte and Eric. The vessels echoed over the room like a Greek chorus.

“All life surrenders to the Master.”

“This isn’t just my fate,” Charlotte whispered. “It’s the fate of all mankind.”

All Miles could do now was laugh, an uncontrollable fit of laughter that escaped his lips in great sobs.

“When you see the world as a set of probabilities, you can appreciate the fucking randomness of everything…When you factor it all down, we’re talking fractions of percentages now. Not once in a lifetime, but once in the entire fucking history of the planet.”

If Miles wanted to argue more with Charlotte after her speech, he couldn’t. It was hard to make a point with his tongue in her pussy.

[lizard-queen-izzy]

OK! WE'RE DOING THIS!

Everyone shut up and sit down. I'm talking about TMA. I am listening through for the first time, I'm through S1 and halfway through S2, and I already have many Thoughts. Today, we will be focusing on my evil ship thoughts, because I missed my chance when this was coming out so now I will subject you all.

I know Jon and Martin get together at some point, and yknow, that's all fine and good.

BUT I WANNA TALK ABOUT JON AND TIM, OK?

There is so much potential for something there, and they would be so incredibly messy after the S1 finale.

[I've lightly scrolled through the jontim tag, and I truly don't think there's enough of you talking about how tragic they are. Platonic or romantic, they're so so sad.]

They both worked in the research department before Jon was made Head Archivist, and even though they definitely weren't close, they were definitely friendly. My Firm Belief is that Jon was the only one who took Tim seriously despite his more lax attitude, he saw his strong work ethic and his dedication and treated him accordingly. And Tim was the only one who listened to Jon, the only one who thought he had anything to add and took his suggestions.

I believe they were hired around the same time, and once they met there was a silent understanding that they were there for eachother. It was nice to just have someone in their corner in this new environment.

When Jon got promoted to Head Archivist, he was adamant about Tim being on his team, because he knew Tim would help get the results needed. [I have a whole, how everyone got assigned to the team timeline thought out but that's not why we're here]

Tim is the only member of his team who Jon doesn't think would have written Antonio Blake's statement as a joke to scare him. Which means he trusts him the most out of all of them. Which wouldn't be as important if he showed distaste for them equally, but he regards both Tim and Sasha highly, and only really seems to have an issue with Martin at this point. So why would he trust Tim to not have written it but not Sasha? Unless he's known him the longest and has reason to put that faith in him.

AND THEIR CONVERSATION AT THE BEGINNING OF MAG 33?? You're gonna listen to that, the first time we as the audience meet Tim, and tell me you don't hear how much these two care for eachother? Even when Jon starts getting upset/loud, he calms quickly for Tim, and doesn't let himself fully yell at him. He also leaves it up to Tim to fix the mistakes, an example of him trusting Tim's judgement and work. And Tim is so calm with him! The man keeps getting worked up and starting to get loud, but Tim stays calm and let's him self correct and say what he needs to before proceeding himself. He knows Jon is stressed and has a lot on his plate. He knows these mistakes needed to be discussed with him and corrected somehow, but he's still not going to force Jon to re-record the statements if he really doesn't want to, he's willing to find another solution. And then he leaves to go work on it so Jon can get back to recording the statement.

And Tim telling Jon he doesn't understand the filing system and Jon explaining it calmly to him, admitting he doesn't really get it either but that's how it is.

You also have to see my vision for how the S1 finale effects them. A traumatic experience where they were both scarred mentally and physically in the same ways. Something that should have brought them even closer, maybe finally made them feel comfortable being proper friends outside of work. But they both react to it SO differently. And that is the beginning of their downfall. That is the beginning of the end.

Because Jon spirals. He stops trusting everyone. He pushes them all away and starts crossing boundaries. HE SPIES ON TIMS HOUSE. And he can't even calm down long enough to see why this bothers his coworkers. Why this hurts Tim.

The beginning of S2 from Tim's perspective is awful. Your first friend in this workplace is overworking himself, throwing himself back into work the second he's cleared physically well enough to go back. But he clearly hasn't moved past it, and you can't blame him for that. Everyone copes differently, but then he turns on you. He stops trusting you, starts pushing you away, starts spying on you. Can you imagine how much that hurts? To have the first person in this terrifying new job who ever put their trust in you, who ever believed in you, to turn on you just when you need them the most.

THEY ARE SO FUCKING MESSY. GOD.

Anyway. I very well may be back with more JonTim thoughts as I continue to listen. But this is what I have for you today.

[ficretus]

*during Volume 7*

Ruby: General Ironwood, me and my team have some... concerns about your leadership.

Ironwood: *with his back turned* What's an issue?

Weiss: Well first you closed Kingdom's borders.

Ironwood: Necessary precaution. We must impede infiltration of Salem's agents with any means necessary. When Salem sends her people, she is sending her best.

Yang: Then you called Mistral "a shithole Kingdom."

Ironwood: That is not language I usually use, but I stand by my stance about Mistral. I assure you, nobody knows more about Mistral than me.

Blake: Then you claimed Robyn Hill is Vacuan agent sent to undermine Atlas. And you keep demanding to see her birth certificate.

Ironwood: And I am yet to receive those papers.

Ruby: But most concerning is... that cap you are wearing.

Ironwood: What is wrong with my cap, am I not allowed to make rash fashion decisions?

Weiss: You really shouldn't make rash fashion decisions.

Ruby: General Ironwood... turn around.

*Ironwood turns around revealing MAHA cap*

Ruby: Make Atlas High Again?! This was never about saving Remnant, you just want to launch Atlas into stratosphere and leave the rest to die!

Yang: I knew we couldn't trust you!

Ironwood: Wait what? That would be crazy and unsustainable plan. No, my plan is far more reaching. *reaches for his pocket*

Blake: He might be pulling a weapon!

*RWBY reach for their weapons*

Ironwood: This is the key to MAHA plan.

Yang: That's a... blunt.

Ironwood: You see, after I lost my limbs I was prescribed medicinal marijuana for my phantom pain. It seemed silly initially, but then it awakened my Semblance, Woodstock. Every time I smoke weed it clears my mind and I get brilliant ideas.

Ruby: I'm confused.

Weiss: So every time you had a secret meeting with your inner circle... you were... you were... smoking weed?!

Ironwood: Yes. Your sister is way more pleasant and honest conversationalist when she is high.

Yang: Wait, how? I tried it while I was in Branwen bandit camp and it only made me more cranky.

Ironwood: You didn't try the good stuff. And this just confirms my stance on Mistral.

Blake: Nothing beats good catnip.

Ruby: Look, I am gonna ignore this whole post has been hijacked by weed jokes. What exactly is your plan General Ironwood?

Ironwood: Before Atlas gets high, it needs to get low. We are gonna land Atlas before using Relic of Creation. With it, we are gonna create a massive eternal blunt. Using the Winter Maiden power, Specialist Schnee will spread its fumes across the Remnant.

Weiss: How will that fix... ANYTHING!?

Ironwood: It will work as a double protection. Salem and her agents will be neutralized by relaxing effect of the blunt. Grimm are immune to it, but they'll have nothing to latch onto since everyone will be spreading positive vibes. It's a foolproof plan.

Yang: Have you lost your mind? That will never work!

Blake: Subjugation through hedonism. That's a gross violation of free will!

Weiss: I said no to drugs long ago! I am not gonna be defeated by glorified second hand smoke!

Ruby: I'm afraid we have to stop your plan General.

*RWBY pull out their weapons*

Ironwood: Stop me? Did you really think I would parade around with this cap and tell you about my plan if there was a chance of you affecting its outcome? I did it... 35 minutes ago.

*smoke enters the building*

*5 minutes later*

Yang: *giggling* You know what, I loooooooove you Blake!

Blake: Really, just like that?

Yang: Why not, did you expect me to confess while hanging over chasm or something.

*Bees kiss*

Weiss: *giggling* Great, I took one whiff of it and I immediately find myself in indecent company. Mom was so right about drugs.

Yang: Oh, it's gonna get even more indecent. Where is Ruby?

Weiss: She is zooming around the building. Do you think this plan actually worked?

*elsewhere*

Cinder: Maiden powers are so lame, it's the exact same power repeated four times. Such a dumb thing to obsess over. Screw it, I'm getting laid.

Emerald: Me, me, me.

Cinder: Someone loyal, bold, responsible...

Emerald: Me, me, me, me, me.

Cinder: Blond...

Emerald: Sigh, not even with weed.

Salem: I feel like everything I have done just keeps spreading... negative vibes.

Tyrian: Whatever you say my Goddess.

Salem: I am cancelling this whole end of the world thing and getting back with Ozma.

Tyrian: Aw...

[acesofspadess]

This Is The Voice

a/n: everyone needs some more Niall

summary: you're the mega mentor, and Niall doesn't know that

“This is the last knockouts ill ever get to coach and im really excited because our mega mentor this season is one of the greatest singers and people of all time.”

“Shes a legend in the industry.”

“She is an EGOT”

“So the mega mentor this season is……… Y/N L/N! Or Horan to Niall”

BLAKE

“Well this like a full circle moment for me. You were here as Adams advisor in the first season and now you are mega mentor in my last season.” blake looked down at 29 year old you who was reminiscing. “What does that say about our relationship.”

“That whenever you're here I lose.” you laughed at him as he shook his head. “You let yourself lose to an 18 year old Blake.” his eyes widdend at that, “Oh man, i forgot you were only 18. I feel so old. And now your married too.” he shook his not wanting to think about it any more.

—-----

KELLY

“You still havent seen Niall yet?” Kelly and you had a moment to chat before the artist came in. “no and I feel so bad. I've been super slow on my answers to his text. I just want to hold him.”

I've know Y/N since she was around 18, we got to perform together in Vegas almost 12 years ago.

“Im so glad it's Blake’s last season. Hes just had a very good vibe.” Kelly filled you on some behind the scenes.

“Oh thats good, he really can be a pain sometimes.

And I've also been able to work with her and tour with her and learn from her. Shes so young and has taught a lot of artist with singing and being on stage. I love that all these artist are gonna get that same experience today.

—---------

CHANCE

There was a knock on your dressing room door and you opened it to see Chance. “Y/N!” He cheered as he opened his arms up for a hug. You laughed and thanks the heavens you werent wearing heavy makeup as he was wearing white. 

Y/N… shes a legend in the industry. Grammy award winning artist.

“And when was the last time i saw you?” you laughed at his question. “Probably Grammy’s 2020…?” he shook his head, “how could i foget miss album of the year.

Her being a top tier artist for so long and having so many experiences is something that we could all grow from. 

After Chance had run down his artist for you, you waited for them to come in and laughed at whispers you heard. “Well hello there, I love your hair.” you told Nariella whose hair was similar to your ginger colour. “I actually got the idea from you.” you both laughed and whispered an ‘i like you already’. 

I just think its so amazing for her to be here and represent black women and girls. Shes definitely someone i look up to.

—---------

NIALL

It was finally time to see your love. Niall was supposed to be meeting Riley… but you didnt let that happen. You were facing the camera, your back facing the direction Niall would walk through. 

“Riley Tate-”

You turned around at the sound of his voice and he immediately stopped talking. “Hi love.” you  were smiling so hard at his reaction to seeing you before he scooped you up in a hug and twirled youn around.

“Why are you here- wait. Your da mega mentor?” his accent was thicker because of the surprise and you loved it. 

I mean to work with Y/N L/N the queen of pop… im getting goose bumps thinking about it now, its just amazing being in her presence 

Thats your wife Niall

Say it again 

“Well now that your here i was going to ask you if you wanted to come to a golf course with me.” Niall had his head on her shoulder and he could feel the laugh that came from her at his words.

Shes an absolute legend, and she teaches me something everyday, i cant wait for her to teach my team.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright love, Gina, shes really shy, reminds me of you when you came to write for the band.”

Niall laughed his beautiful laugh as you hid your face in your hands. “Don't remind me.”

“You might have to tell her to speak up.” you nodded at the information and were ready to see her. “And then she sings, and a different person comes out, a lot like you.” you cooed at his comparison seeing how much Gina meant to Niall.

“Now Kates kinda got the jazzy, Amy Winehouse-y vibe.” you ‘oo’ed’ at the information. “Lets see what they got.”

You watched as they walked around the corner and saw them subtly freak out at seeing you. You got up from your seat with the help of Niall(not that you needed it but he always held his hand out for you).

“Look who ive got!” Niall cheered from behind you as the girls gave you hugs.

I saw the ginger hair and Niall leaning on her and was like- please… ITS Y/N”

“How are you?” you asked hugging them both.

I was not expecting Y/N to be in the room with Niall. I was very starstruck.”

“Im gonna sing ‘somebody that i used to know’,” Gina shared her song and you marvelled at the softness of her voice. “Im very close to my dad, and he was a DJ and that was a song he always loved.”

“Thats beautiful Gina truly.”

Listening too her sing brought chills to your skin. 

You cheered as she finished and let Niall say what you know hes been holding in.  “And that sass that youve got this week.” Niall admired with a little laugh. “Really?” you loved how she went from this marvellous singer to this soft spoken girl. “I wasnt expecting that.” Gina thanked Niall before she looked at you and you shook your head.

“You gave me chills seriously, the only thing is ‘for lack of better wording’ understanding your words.” you watched as she took the advice and applauded her silently knowing if you were in her possician you would have certainly started crying.

“Yeah keep those words separate. Its very easy to go-” and you watched as he broke off his words in example. “You know what I mean. So give your self a bit of space.”

“I like that bub. I like that a lot.” 

You listened to him sing the words slowly and closed you eyes in sereness. “That staccato.” you pitched in. “her first audition to right now,” he looked at you threading his fingers with yours, “completley diffrent person.” you laughed softly squeezing his had. “I was just like you when i started, you can ask him.” he kissed your temple lightly in admiration, “she still is. Cant give her a compliment without her hiding away. Huh, beautiful?” you did as he knew you would and tucked your face into his neck. “See.” 

You turned your head to watch Gina and Kate play fight as theu swapped places. “I really wish you guys liked each other.” you joked sitting up properly. “I know so much hatred in here.” Niall joked back with you adjusting in his seat. “Its just awful.” Niall lost it, throwing his head back in laughter, letting you hear his laugh again. That would always be your favourite song. 

~~~

“Ooh we've got a guitar.” you saw the shaped guitar and immediately fell in love. “Its my baby.” Kate spoke. “Gonna have to get me self one just like that,” you all laughed before Niall looked at the gap between your seats and pulled your seat closer to his. You grabbed his hand and kissed it before looking back up at Kate. “what song are gonna sing love.” you asked as Niall sat back in his seat. “Im singing ‘Call Me’ by Blondie.”

“Oh lets hear it.” 

Kate had the stage presence of a lifetime. “Very good!” you clapped proudly. “Thank you.” you smiled as Niall began to speak. “My favourite parts are when its chilled.” You agreed with him softly as he continued to speak. “Dont stay with the-” Niall sang in a high pitch for example and you nodde your head. “Towards the end it gets a bit crashy for me. I wonder if there's a way of toning it down?” he looked to you for advice. “Tone down the crashing for more like ‘TOMS’ or something like that?” you offered and he took it. “Yeah so we can offer some more jazziness.” he agreed while drumming in the air, “you wanna come back up Gina?” You smiled widely hearing the softness and joy in his voice when he talked to her. “Im thrilled to pieces. I asked a really close friend of mine when were younger, who is now very successful, what is the best piece of advice you can give me. He said ‘have fun’. So i hope your having fun and getting to meet people that youll remain friends with forever.”

You watched Gina and Kate turn to each other and you hugged yourself. “Awwe that makes me so happy.” Niall grabbed your hand and held it in the air. “And one day you might marry them.” you all laughed before Niall spoke up again. “You're the best ladies.” you watched as they walked away and Niall rested his head on shoulder again. “I love you. You're amazing.”

“I love you too Ni.”

`````````````````````````````````````````````

Niall taglist:

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner

@luxiorchive @maeflowers653

[mrdogface]

So I finished Birds of Prey (1996 - 2009).

Highs:

known unrepentant homophobe Chuck Dixon accidentally wrote a pretty incredible bi sapphic story during his tenure on Birds of Prey, although much of the queering does come from the artists working on the books. We all know the “call me Barbara” moment – apparently, after the audience reaction to that, Dixon started leaving notes for artists like “be careful and make sure the audience doesn’t misinterpret this scene” lol. 

imo, the realization of Helena Bertinelli’s arc happens in the Birds of Prey. She is finally removed from an environment where she needs and is actively craving Batman’s approval, and she ends up thriving, infiltrating the mob and earning the “good work” from Bruce. Personally, I would’ve preferred if her character moved completely away from Bruce’s opinions of her, and it kind of does, but Gail SImone does close that arc off by giving it to her. 

Gail Simone uses the series as a who’s who of women in DC, showcasing a number of minor and often underrated women, from returning classic characters like Ice to giving Zinda Blake / Lady Blackhawk a second chance at comics relevance (Lady Blackhawk’s best story in the Birds of Prey, imo, happens under Tony Bedard, concluding the character’s arc from her 1950s roots). 

Infinity, introduced very late in Bedard’s time on the team, is a severely underrated nonstarter superhero and it is criminal she never went anywhere. Weird ambiguously Australian ghost girl? Hello??

Barbara as a character who learns to accept her disability. A lot of people, including Dixon and Simone, tend to point out that Barbara learns to be a superhero in spite of her disability, but that’s not the interesting part imo. I think the more interesting story here is that they almost accidentally cobbled together a very genuine character arc of Barbara initially being insecure and doubtful that she’ll be perceived as an equal, as romantically desirable, as a real leader in the superhero world, all this stuff, due to the chair. What we end up seeing is her growth into someone who realizes she’s accepted within the bubble of people who are relevant to her, and that the bigotry of people who aren’t can be made irrelevant simply by building one’s life without them. Her disability isn’t written as saccharine inspiration porn (I think it actually veers too far in the other direction at times; at its worst, it’s a point of grimdark melodrama lol) and it isn’t something she “overcomes” in the classic superhero sense of getting a magical wheelchair or psychic powers, and imo in the superhero genre that’s rare and valuable. The execution isn’t perfect but for me it’s very close. 

Lows:

Chuck Dixon makes Barbara and Power Girl do an accidental war crime lmao. dw, both DC editorial and the fanbase ignore this and the less said about it the better.

Dixon really likes James Bond, Indiana Jones (surprising because Indie keeps beating up his friends) and other travel-adventure stories, so throughout his run Black Canary keeps ending up in exotic locations… and judging the people there, before doing some insane “World Policing.” The racism is uhhhhhhh

Simone ties the Birds into the wider DC universe and it does, frustratingly, hit a point where you need to be either really up-to-date with other books or cracking open google to know who a lot of characters even are. This is kind of just how DC works in the mid-2000s, frustratingly. She’s also forced to work with a lot of off-screen deaths, like Ted Kord’s death should be an enormous thing for Barbara, but we have deadlines to keep and we can’t be certain people have been keeping up with Jaime Reyes, so gogogogo

Misfit and Black Alice. They never worked for me. I hate Misfit’s whole archetype of zany comics fan who acquires powers. Making her Jason Todd-adjacent by giving her the sad homeless backstory did not sell me on her and felt like a cheap attempt to make a nonstarter character function. Black Alice’s whole thing devolves into a “stay on your meds, emo kids” PSA. Just very clumsy 30-somethings-writing-teens material. 

the last arc, set in DC Silicon Valley, kind of sucks. The Calculator isn’t an interesting villain to me. The chemistry between characters after Dinah leaves never feels right. 

it all ends with Barbara believing she's lost her edge, writing a signed note, peacing out, and dumping her adopted homeless kid friend on Helena after getting her ass kicked by the Joker. The last page: Ganthet lamenting that she's in a wheelchair, "to be continued in Oracle: The Cure." oy.

[notmaplemable]

Opinion on DragonSlayer?

Ah, Dragonslayer. Definitely has one of the better ship names in the RWBY fandom. Also I'm just going to you DS from now on because I'm tired.

Values and personality wise, I think they work well together. With Yang pushing Jaune out of his comfort zone, and being there for him when he falls down. And Jaune being there for Yang when she's feeling vulnerable and needs some support. They both have a way of keeping each other going in tough times. They're both very family oriented. Plus they can probably bond over being an older sibling, and maybe having some parental troubles depending on how you write the Arcs.

And yeah, the comparisons between Jaune and Taiyang are obvious.

Though personally I break DS down into two eras. Beacon era DS and post Beacon DS.

During their time at Beacon, I don't really see them getting together. I can absolutely see Jaune having a thing for Yang. You could even convince me that Yang has feelings for him as well, but I still don't really think she would. And even if she did I don't see her really perusing that relationship.

Mostly because I don't really think Yang would be perusing a romantic relationship during their first year at Beacon. She's looking for Raven. Trying to balance getting a bit a freedom and still taking care of Ruby while still giving her enough space to grow on her own a little bit. Not to mention just making sure Ruby doesn't get herself hurt. While also making sure Blake doesn't run off and do anything crazy again.

You don't have much time for relationships when your the team mom.

And if she was going to get into a romantic relationship, it would be with someone like Sun, Blake, Ren, or Pyrrha. Simply because Jaune hasn't really had a chance to show off the traits that would make them work well together to her, and she wouldn't value those traits as much as she would later on. She would just views Jaune as Ruby's friend and the guy who threw up on her boots.

But that doesn't mean that it can't happen, but you would need to force them together often and in ways where Jaune could show those positive traits of his. I've read fics that have done that. Or you could do an AU where they're partners, childhood friends, etc.

Now post fall DS is where it's at.

They've both had opportunities to mature over V4 and 5. Yang would certainly appreciate Jaune keeping Ruby safe when she couldn't. And I think would start to see more of Jaune's good traits, while certainly relating to a few of his problems in those volumes. Certainly the anger and charging in problems.

So I think that spark would be lit there, probably soon after they deal with all the Haven stuff. With some awkward flirting before they get to Argus. Once Jaune gets a little bit of closure with Pyrrha, then I'd think they would have a talk and try to figure something out there. With Saphron listening in of course.

So yeah.

DS has a lot to like about it. Jaune and Yang work well together and are both very family focused. While also having a good few areas of contrast to not make it feel like it's two versions of the same character dating. It just needs a little time to mature to really reach to peak of it's potential.

7/10 at Beacon.

9/10 after Beacon.