#goldies fault

[aaandbackstabbed]

Goldie: okay this time, I really didn’t do anything

Scrooge: now why don’t I believe you

[goldieclaws]

Wanting to play Pikmin 4 vs working on concepts for the spooktober jam this year FIGHT!!

[touchbased]

CLOSED  STARTER  FOR  @peachedpit !

“  are  you  seriously  implying  that  i’m  the  reason  you’re  a  fucked  up  person ?  ”

[gu3ntzel]

im going to kill myself

[imfinereallyy]

Dinner Date

For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here. 

“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin. 

Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place. 

“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now. 

Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”

Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”

Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”

Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”

Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”

Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”

Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them. 

Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”

“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”

Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”

Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.” 

Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”

“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”

Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”

“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.” 

Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.

Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”

“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.” 

“Deal.”

Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”

Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”

[astorianyxkings]

Oldest Daughter Dick™ is probably one of my favourite things ever. And it always will be and here's why:

Of course Dick loves his siblings and of course he loves that they know Bruce as the father he is. But it won't stop the jealousy he feels. And no one gets it, not even Jason. They were all raised by Bruce Wayne, he was raised by Batman.

When Dick came to live with him, Bruce had no idea how to he a father. How to handle normal kid stuff like sicknesses and school events let alone the fact he was an acrobat. He was Batman and Dick was raised to be not just his successor but the only contingency plan he had against himself.

Bruce never held his punches ("That was a good block but I still got you, didn't I?" Bruce had said, rubbing cream into the blossoming bruise on Dick's side. "I'll get you next time," Dick had promised, young eyes challenging. "You better." Bruce had grinned back.) All attacks were to remind him that he was at a disadvantage strength wise and thus needed to re-evaluate his lines of defense and offense.

Dick was raised by the paranoid-in-his-late-twenties-probably-shouldn't-be-a-dad-despite-what-Marisol-said Bat. A fun game of catch? He was dodging Batarangs. Learning to drive? It was the Batmobile and he was age 14 (and a half). School events? He was fumbling, awkward and did not want to be there (but still was because he'll be damned if his boy didn't have his support.)

And you know that's fine, Dick was fine. It wasn't Bruce's fault he didn't know how to be a proper dad, despite Alfred's parenting books and videos. And he did try, he was always there. But it just really hits a sore spot everytime he sees Bruce hold a punch before he knocks Tim out cold or when he's behind the wheel with Steph telling her what not to do. Or even when he's at school with Damian and Duke making Marjory and her cupcakes look ridiculous compared to him and his coconut crumble cakes.

It also irritates Dick beyond senseless whenever the topic of sparring with Bruce is mentioned. ("We can all beat the old man Goldie, he's ancient." Jason shrugs off and Dick wanted to scream.) The only one who even tries to sympathize with him was Cass. More than likely because she'd seen him fight as Batman The Dark Knight before seeing him fight as Bruce The Father of Six-Almost-Eight.

And it just really stings because he can't relate to being raised by Bruce the way the others can't. Bruce changed for them, not him. And maybe that kind of hurts. But maybe he's overreacting.

What he doesn't realize is he's the reason why Bruce changed. Bruce saw the hurt and anger in Dick's eyes when he fired him from Robin (Think Shifu denying Tai Lung the Dragon Warrior scroll). He knew the second he saw the betrayal in Dick's eyes after seeing Jason as Robin, that he'd have to change. (The same way Shifu should've changed for Tigress but I digress, not that fandom).

Bruce pulls his punches because he hated seeing Dick limp away from their sparring matches—despite the fire and promise of a rematch in his eyes. He teaches them how to drive regular cars before the Batmobile because the one time Dick crashed (while trying to avoid some of Poison Ivy's vines) his heart rate skyrocketed so high Clark had called him up demanding to know if he was okay. He shows up for Duke and Damian and Cass and Tim because Dick's smile whenever he saw Bruce in the parent's lounge never failed to make him melt.

Bruce stands firm on the fact that while he may have made a hero out of Dick, Dick Grayson made a father out of Bruce Wayne.

[biancabi]

Jason: *Walking around the living room with a book until tripping over something*

Tim: *Lying on the ground being the "something" Jason tripped over*

Jason: What the fuck, Replacement?

Tim: Sleep is overrated and I don't need it!!

Jason: Of course, that clarifies everything. What do you think if we make the consumption of peanuts illegal too?

Tim: Actually that would be pretty fantastic-

Jason: No, I was being sarcastic. Why the hell are you on the ground?

Tim: I'm trying to test a theory about how inertia acts on bodies-

Jason: *Raising an eyebrow* You fell and you're too tired to get up, right?

Tim: ...

Tim: ....yes.

-

Jason: *Yelling* Can someone tell me why the hell the kitchen is covered in waffle batter everywhere??

Steph: *With a stack of fifty waffles at her side* We're making waffes, obviously

Jason: And you had to dirty Alfie's entire kitchen for that??

Steph: It's just a little disaster, he won't even notice.

Jason: He doesn't notice the flour on the floor, eggs on the windows and dough on the ceiling??

Steph: You're making it sound more serious than it is.

Jason: Don't fuck, goldie.

-

Jason: *Entering dramatically* Alright little bitches, which one of you takes my copy of Pride and Prejudice??

Dick: I haven't seen your book, littlewing

Duke: Don't you have like a ten copies of that book?

Jason: First, I have fifteen copies of Pride and Prejudice. Second, they took my special anniversary copy. So which one of you has it??

Dick: Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?

Jason: No, I looked everywhere in this damn manor and it's NOT there.

Duke: Man, it's practically impossible for you to have covered the entire manor, I tried but I got tired after 5 hours. 5 HOURS!! AND I ONLY WENT THROUGH THE EAST WING.

Jason: THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WHO HAS MY BOOK?!

Dick: *Replying to Duke* I don't know, after getting lost in the hallways I never tried to navigate the manor again.

Jason: HEY! RESPOND BEFORE I START TAKING THE BULLETS OUT!

Duke: *Excited* What if there is some type of ghost or entity that is hidden in the hallways?

Dick: That wouldn't be so strange, I mean, this manor is very old.

Jason: IT DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE ANY DAMN GHOSTS. I WANT MY BOOK.

Duke: Just think about it, what if the ghost took your book??

Jason: *Taking out their guns* This is it, it's bullet time.

-

Bruce: Jason, could you explain to me why my living room is full of bullet holes?

Jason: Whoa, old man. If we think about it technically, everything is your fault.

Bruce: Pardon?

Jason: I think it's actually Alfred you should apologize to, but I guess I accept your apology.

Bruce: *Take a deep breath* Jason, how is this my fault?

Jason: *Moving his hands indifferently* I mean, if you hadn't adopted seven of us your living room wouldn't be covered in bullet holes. So technically it's your fault.

Bruce: ...

Jason: You know, you should have stopped at kid number two.

-

Jason: *Holding Damian by the neck like a kitten* Why the hell did you jump out of the batmobile? Were you even thinking???

Damian: *Squirming* I was trying to get out of the terrible experience of you driving alive. We almost crashed and died AGAIN.

Jason: Oi demon brat, Just so you know we almost collided because you jumped out the window suddenly.

Damian: This wouldn't have happened if I had been driving.

Jason: *Exasperated* Your feet can't even reach the brakes. How do you think-

*They both freeze when they hear police sirens, they look at each other and back at the crashed Batmobile.*

Jason: Did you know? Bruce doesn't need to know this.

Damian: This is the first time I agree with you Todd, we don't have to bother Father with little things.

Jason: *Escaping from the place* Yes yes yes, definitely

[moonmeg]

"So, tell me! Where have you been all this time?", Cat asked handing her old friend a mug while sitting down on the sofa herself.

Breena accepted the mug smiling and crossed her legs before she began telling her tale.

"Well, it started with me traveling around the Isles. I wanted adventure, I wanted to see new things and so I packed my things and went."

"Your parents never told us that.", Catherine frowned.

When Ahana and her noticed Breena was gone not even Breena's parents knew where exactly their daughter was. All they had was a note saying to not worry, she'll be fine. Breena didn't have the best relationship with her parents and Catherine remembered the red-haired girl as a fierce and quite rebellious individual - the fact Breena left was not as big a surprise as it should've been. Yet Catherine and Ahana couldn't believe their trio was down to a duo over night and the news hit them hard. The hurt healed over the years whenever they convinced each other Bree is alright wherever she was. They knew their friend after all. Breena was perfectly capable of fending for her own.

"Prolly cause they dinna know either. I dinna tell anyone where I went. Even though it hurt me to leave Ana and ye behind.", Bree mirrored Cat's frown. She took a sip from the mug.

"Without a goodbye.", Cat added. Though what had happened was almost twenty years in the past by now the aching in Cat's heart upon learning she lost a friend, unknowing if she'll ever see her again, still lingered deep.

Breena glanced at Cat. She saw the hurt her friend was feeling and found herself confronted with one of her greatest fears: Having brought pain to a person important to her. It's what she tossed and turned around in bed for even years after she had left. She never wanted to see Cat or Ahana be sad through fault of hers, yet here she was facing the consequences of her own betrayal to herself.

"Forgive me, please. I regretted it every night.", she leaned forward urgently.

Cat looked up at Breena and softly smiled. She reached for her hand and reassured her friend: "Bree... no hard feelings. I forgave you years ago."

Breena sighed in relief. It seemed a big rock finally loosened from her heart. At least she could have Catherine back as a friend. Whether or not Ahana has forgiven or would forgive her and accept her as a friend again she couldn't tell -neither could Cat- but Breena would try to gain it.

Genuine smiles of happiness and gratitude were exchanged before Cat asked Breena to please continue with her story. It had been sixteen years since they last saw each other and Breena had at least one child now. Cat was beyond curious on how that happened. She remembered that in the trio Cat was the only one to ever positively speak of having a family and children. Neither Breena nor Ahana mentioned the wish to become mothers one day. And yet Robyn was playing with Micah down the hall in Robyn's room.

The red-haired woman smiled and continued:

"On my travels I landed at a small tavern. I originally only wanted to get a drink and maybe ask where I could find more provisions. There... there was this pretty lad who caught my attention. We started talking and learned the tavern belonged to his aunt. He himself was son to a farmer at the same village. He offered me a stay at the farm for the night as it was gettin' late, I accepted and one night turned into two, two into three and three nights into weeks."

Bree began to smile sheepishly. Her cheeks slightly flushing a light pink, causing her freckles to stand out more. It was obvious she told this from a feeling of fondness and genuine love. Whoever that "pretty lad" was, he had Bree's full adoration.

Catherine smirked kmowingly and tilted her head: "I doubt it was the fields and animals of the farm that made you stay."

"Course not.", Breena laughed, "I stayed because of my sweet goldie."

"Goldie?", Cat raised a brow in curiosity.

Breena gave her a glance and then stared into the mug. She ran her finger up and down the porcelain surface. Her lips never broke the smile. On the contrary: her face only softened at the image of her husband before her inner eye.

"Aye, his eyes are golden. So I started callin' him that and it kind of developed into a pet name.", she chuckled.

"Well, time went by and things started takin' their rolls. Pinin' turned to a relationship, a relationship turned to an engagement, engagement to a pregnancy and so on and so on."

"So you weren't married yet when you had your first child, eh?"

Cat took a sip as she continued to listen to her friend's story attentively.

"No, no, by the time the bairn was born I was already Mrs. Bower. But I take no shame in admitting Makenna was conceived before that. Titan, some people have a lover and bairns but never married and there's nothin' wrong with that."

"No, of course not!", Catherine held up a hand in defense, "I'm surprised you got married and had children at all. The Bree I remember never seemed like the type to do so."

Breena shrugged.

"People change. 'Specially once love is involved.", her lips curved into a small, fond smile again. The type of smile you wear when you think of your beloved. "My 16 year old self wouldn't believe I'm a wife and mother either.", she turned to Cat again with a laugh.

Catherine joined in on the laugh. Suddenly it felt like they were children again. Sitting by each other and laughing together. Breena may have changed as person but her laugh remained as contagious and loud as ever.

"You have how many?", she asked. The curiosity once again got the better of her.

"Three. Micah's the youngest. And the only boy.", Bree chuckled and sipped from the mug.

Cat, thinking she is sly, replied: "So there's two copies of you waiting at home, huh?"

Her friend scoffed.

"The only thing they copied from me are the freckles. They are copies of their father. Brunette, golden eyes, the same smile, the same face. Micah's the only one to get my red hair additionally to the freckles.", she laughed and sat down more comfortably on the sofa.

Tilting the mug around in circles on her lap she grinned. "Seems our sons take more after us. Robyn is like a carbon copy of ye. A few differences here and there o' course. Surely from the father?"

"Yeah.", Catherine stiffened. She hated that she did. She hated she was still so affected by Caleb's death. She hated her facade of the strong, single mother was so thin and easily breakable. Thankfully, she thought, Breena didn't notice it.

Instead, the freckled woman gleefully leaned back on the sofa, placing her arm on the back of if.

"It's yer turn now. Tell me what I missed in yer life.", Bree tilted her head as she let it rest on her knuckles.

Cat stared blankly and almost automatically started tapping her nails on the mug. She quickly gathered herself again and stuttered:

"Ah- uhm... well, I'll uh I'll spare you the first sob story of my first relationship. Let's just say I was left a heartbroken fool when mh partner left me for another."

"Left ye?", Breena's smile faded.

"For another?", her brows furrowed.

"How dare they?! What's their name? I'll-", she drew a circle into the air and the mug loudly hit the little table in front of the sofa.

Much like Ahana, Breena was ready to hurt whoever dared to hurt Cat. They knew Cat was able to take care of people like that herself but it was just this urge to defend and stand up for Cat no matter what.

"It doesn't matter, Bree. I was twenty when that happened after all.", Catherine cut her off and hoped Bree would let it go. She almost pleaded her to with the look on her face.

Breena kept her angry face but sank into the sofa again. Catherine spoke of that first relationship with such ease that it left Breena to believe she had moved on from it a long time ago and so she calmed down and loosened up the tension in her body.

Cat broke the eye contact with Breena as she thought about how much into detail she wants to go with the love story she shared with Caleb. How much she could go into detail without suddenly breaking into tears uncontrollably.

"Four years down the line, I had put a wall around me and swore off love to avoid being hurt again. Little did I know, the walls I built could so easily be crumbled... and all it took was a young man with short blond hair and the warmest brown eyes. A little frail but handsome. A bit awkward but kind and affectionate. I didn't want to admit it at first but had to give in to the fact that my heart beat faster and louder when he was with me... my blondie. My Caleb.", she smiled in a mix of melancholy and fondness. The images flashing before her when she closed her eyes were so vibrant and clear still. They always were.

She reached for the ring on the silk band around her neck.

"I loved him. I loved him like I never thought I could love someone. Titan, I still do!"

A moment of silence.

Bree eyed her friend worried. It was obvious now that this story does not have a happy ending either.

"But he's not here anymore, is he?", Bree asked.

Catherine shook her head slowly.

"Some people...", Bree scoffed again and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "the audacity they have! You don't deserve that, Cat! To be left alone with a child to raise! The least he could do is show himself to the child he partook in creating."

"Oh, no, Bree, you got it all wrong!", Cat leaned forward towards the other woman, "He didn't abandon me and is now living a life without me and Robyn! He... he was taken from us. Brutally and coldly. By someone he trusted."

The grip on the ring around her neck fastened, as if cenching to it would bring Caleb back.

Breena sat in shock, mouth ajar. It took her a little to get another sound out. She wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't sure what to do.

"Ye- ye're a... a widow?", she asked with hesitation. The information still not fully processed and still in a bit of denial that her friend had to experience her husband dying. That she had to bury the love of her life...

Catherine nodded in confirmation.

"Oh, sweet Titan...", Breena breathed and looked her friend up and down, unsure where to focus on, "Cathy, I-", she began and didn't know how to continue the sentence.

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright. I learned to live with it.", Cat tried her best to give a smile.

"But ye shouldna have to! A widow at thirty! That's horrible!", Breena grabbed Catherine by her arm in haste. She began stroking her thumb on Cat's sleeve in an attempt to show comfort.

She projected the situation her friend was in on her own life. The thought of being widowed, of losing her husband, the father of her children, someone so dear and important to her was torturous enough. To actually live through it is something Breena couldn't fathom.

Cat took Bree's freckled hands.

"It's alright, Bree, really. It- it still hurts but Roby and I visit his grave every weekend. I tell him stories and we pretend Caleb is with us, sitting and listening.", she genuinely smiled. However, there was a certain sadness lingering in her teal eyes, Bree noticed. It was almost painful to see Cat like this. It felt worse knowing there was barely anything she could do to help Cat. And it felt worst when she realized she was not there for her friend when she had needed it most.

"Did Robyn ever meet his father?", Breena asked quietly. She hoped Catherine would say "yes, he did.". She hoped the little boy was held in his father's arms at least once. She hoped he had felt the warmth of his father's cradling arms and she hoped he had heard his father's heart beat at least *once*. But Cat's face didn't seem like that would be the answer. Catherine looked down and let out a dry sob.

"I wish he did..."

[wondersinwaynemanor]

some petty scenarios between the Wayne kids just to annoy the other (or more like get some attention, even though they won't admit it).

Tim: You know I hate your paintings, Dami. They're too colorful and too bright. They're too... Ugh.. Good. And... And... Maybe find another hobby? It's getting annoying.

Damian: You know what's a nuisance, Drake? You.

Tim: Not as annoying as your -

Damian: Keep talking nonsense, Drake, and I'll be asking for the portrait I did of you and Kent.

Tim, wraps an arm on Damian's shoulder: Heyyyy, I was kidding. All good, Dami.

---

Jason: Remember when you had the long hair, Goldie?

Dick: And I want to have that hair again.

Steph: I wish I was there to see it in person. You slayed, Dick!

Dick, flutters his lashes: Oh, you didn't need to say that, Steph.

Jason, scoffs: Ha? That long hair slayed? It was too shiny, it stung my eyes. No, no--it blinded some rogues. You don't want that to happen to you, right, Steph?

Dick, pouts: What are you talking about, Little Wing???? You even said you wanted a hair like mine!!!

Jason: I was young and made bad decisions. Of course, you all know that by now.

Steph: Jason doesn't know what he's talking about. Have the long hair again, Dick!

Dick, huffs: I'm glad I got a supporter.

---

Steph, groans: I can't focus!!!

Steph can't see Cass' face with her cowl on but she knows Cass is giving her a questioning look.

Steph: You're too distracting, okay?

Cass continues to stare at Steph.

Steph, whispers: You're wearing the perfume I really like.

Cass, tilts her head: Okay. I won't use-

Steph, gasps: Who told you to do that???

---

Jason, tries to enjoy his toast and tea in peace: Maybe try to open the drawer harder, Timbo? I'm sure it will be broken then.

Tim, opening the refrigerator doors this time with extra force, raises his voice: What was that, Jay???

Jason: Are you serious? It's too early.

Tim, gets a cup of coffee: Not my fault you're in the kitchen. Go and eat in your room. You're not the only person in this house.

Jason, raises his brows at him: What's your fucking problem??

Tim: Nothing.

proceeds to steal the fruit that's on Jason's plate.

Jason: Seriously?????

proceeds to grab Tim's cup of coffee on his hand and chugs on it.

Tim: You're an animal!!!

Jason: So are you!!!

Alfred, by the kitchen door, pinches the bridge of his nose: Oh, should the young masters must really be shouting this early?

---

Duke: Do you need anything else, Dick?

Dick, grins: Nope, nope. Carry on, Second Little D.

Duke: I can't really help you with your bike if you're singing loudly right in my ear.

Dick, blushes: Oops, sorry. I'll keep quiet.

Duke, chuckles: No, it's okay. Just don't do it right in my ear. I need my hearing.

meanwhile, Damian plays a video in the Batcomputer in a high volume.

Dick, shouts from across the cave: Dami, maybe lower the volume?

Damian, shouts back: Tt. It's a tactic to cover up your singing, Grayson. And Thomas, I need your help with-

Dick: I still need him with my bike, Dami!

Damian: You've had him for the past three hours, Grayson!

Dick: And so???

Damian: And so, I need his assistance with something.

Duke, scratches the back of his neck: Maybe I can help you both later. It's time for me to call Izzy anyways-

Dick and Damian at the same time: Wait, no!

[devildomwriter]

Nightbringer Story Delivered

Major spoilers (I don’t go into depth but still watch out in case)

- We get to see the founding of RAD and why Diavolo wants to found it

- We get to see a lot of Devildom politics

- There are lots conservative demons and mentions of nobles and aristocrats and riffraff

- We get to see that the brothers didn’t necessarily fall to the Devildom but that it was the only place to go and taking them in nearly shattered the unstable peace between the realms

- Lots of examples of hatred and grudges on both sides of the angels and demons spectrum

- The brothers facing lots of prejudice and being offended by the term “fallen angels”

- We get a Cerberus backstory because of Mammon

- Lots of good big brother Mammon trying to elevate his brothers position in the Devildom to fight against their prejudice

- The brothers were held inside the castle for a full year after the war

- We see more about Diavolo having a messed up and strict childhood and just needing a break from work

- We learn more about Diavolo’s father and his very sudden deep sleep

- We see how much Diavolo struggles to navigate the present to fix the future and avoid getting stuck in the past

- We see how Lucifer and Diavolo’s dynamic changed when Lucifer became a demon and the tension it caused

- We see Henry 1.0 backstory and an explanation for his changing in size

- We get to see the hours long castle tour mentioned in the OG game that the brothers dreaded and Diavolo forced them into

- We get to see Diavolo being a bit more blunt and controlling in his youth

- We get a Lotan origin story (even though it retcons two other origin stories mentioned in the OG)

- We get to see more about the relationship everyone had with Raphael, Michael, and Simeon

- The angels being considered brothers and sisters is explained more

- We finally see why Simeon isn’t a seraph anymore and why Lucifer blames himself

- We see Simeon’s issues discussed more in depth

- We see some TSL origin story

- We meet the TSL characters and they’re intense

- We see the brothers truly becoming demons and having less and less impulse control and fitting their titles more and more, something they find strange

- Goldie’s origins explained

- The credit card in the freezer origin explained

- Lucifer still being prejudiced against demons

- Lucifer being a good big brother to his siblings and being worried they felt forced to follow him

- Lucifer trying to raise his anger child

- We see why Mammon is scared of ghosts when originally he didn’t give a crap

- We get more insight on Mammon and Lucifer’s relationship

- We get an origin story for Mammon’s gambling issues (It’s Solomon’s fault)

- Levi’s love of cosplay origin story

- Levi’s fear and self hatred and other issues explained

- Origin story of Levi’s love for Ruri-Hana

- We get to see how Levi got his powers

- Satan literally only having one emotion due to being born from one emotion

- Satan feeling out of place because the demon king told the brothers to take him in

- Satan’s love of cats origin story

- Feral Satan is literally the best thing ever

- We get to see why Asmodeus decorated the room the way he did

- Asmodeus’s issues are discussed in depth including ones we didn’t really know were there

- The surprising origin of Asmo nights

- Asmo trying to be so strong and upbeat because someone has to

- We see a deeper explanation on the original pact made between Solomon and Asmodeus

- We see how Asmodeus feels about Solomon

- We see Asmodeus was pretty interested in Barbatos even before the two shared Solomon

- We get to see how Asmodeus got his new powers

- Beelzebub suddenly developing his intense hunger that he can’t explain and can’t control

- Belphie’s issues discussed in depth

- Belphie having slight suicidal ideations

- Belphie needing someone to blame for Lilith’s death but not being able to figure out who (in our original timeline he’d obviously decided to blame humans)

- More about Lilith being a prankster and too blunt and her first meeting with Michael

- The brothers kind of blaming each other and trying not to blame each other

- The relationships progress with MC well and not just one person at a time

- More Solomon and MC and their sorcerer and apprentice dynamic

- Barbatos absolutely fucking hating Solomon and Solomon not remembering how he pissed off Barbatos at the time

- Solomon being dominant with Barbatos

- Barbatos being over all very mysterious and a bit more aggressive than the present Barbatos

- We get a solid reason for why MC can’t just return to their present timeline

- We see more of Diavolo’s powers

- The present timeline is mentioned including the brothers being anxious to get MC back

- A ghost who goes by Adam (probably not THE Adam but who knows)

- Nightbringer is mentioned a lot and heavily hinted to be Barbatos (pretty obvious)

- The interesting way MC being in the past impacts the others (they’re all very attached and comfortable in MC‘s room)

- We see where Solomon always strays in the Devildom and his relationship with Diavolo

- Solomon’s reputation in the Devildom and him forgetting most of it

- Someone is creating mass illusions and realities to trick the brothers and make them choose sides (angels or demons)

- Solomon getting really mad at Barbatos for teleporting him into a dragon nest

- Solomon offering pacts like a salesman and still trying to get one with Lucifer

- Solomon wanting a pact with Leviathan and asking Lucifer for permission

- Solomon being jealous he didn’t tame Cerberus

- We see more of Diavolo’s love and obsession with angel Lucifer and how it’s since changed

- Overall a lot of stuff happening in the story and that’s just the main story and not Devilgram which reveals even more

If you want me to go more In depth on any of these things just send me an ask

[not-goldy]

https://www.tumblr.com/not-goldy/748360102451511296/did-jungkook-really-say-such-awful-things-about?source=share

like when vminkook were live and sitting on bed then jm said this is my bare face and jungkook straight up be like "ugly right?" Damn that's some real love i sense there. Making fun of someone's looks (who's been insecure about his looks as an idol Cause before that everyone has praised him for his looks, before joining BH) for yrs. And then jungkook is the standard of love for jkkrs.

Too many anachronisms, let's fix it

1. Jungkook IS the standard for love for jkkrs

IS= present tense 😬

2. When vminkook WERE live.... then JM SAID

WERE LIVE= past tense

JM SAID= simple past tense.

You can't conflate your past and present tense it makes you sound dubious and malicious.

A fair and an accurate statement would be,

So Jungkook WAS the standard of love for Jkkers when he was out there calling JM ugly?

That question I can answer and will answer differently from the question of whether Jungkook IS the standard of love for Jkkrs.

If you want to say Jungkook IS the standard of love then you would have to look to the present to see what he is doing in the present that communicates love or not and right now he is in Military Service standing in the fire next to Jimin- that to me is the epitome of love.

Know what else is/was an epitome of love?

Buying JM presents on his birthday when he wasn't doing that for any of the members

Admiting his faults, crying and apologizing to Jimin for not listening to JMs advice

Carrying JMs luggage when they traveled and taking charge of it when it got missing

Offering him a seat

Protecting his seat

Picking him up when he fell

Kissing his ear to comfort him when he cried in front t of millions

Don't cry Jimin

Being his number one fan

Playing his songs and promoting it to his fans

Cooking for him

Keeping him company through his loneliness

Making him laugh

Listening to him pour his heart out

Deliberately throwing a competition so JM will win

Offering him his jacket when he is cold

Whispering I love you to him as he sleeps

Traveling to Tokyo twice with him and for him

Risking it for him or showing signs he would risk it all for him

Holding his hands

Being emotionally open and vulnerable with Jimin

Filming editing and producing GCFs for him

Making him laugh

Making him happy

Easing his troubles

Helping him train

Showing concern for him

Complimenting him

Affirming him

Telling him he is beautiful pretty and sexy

Making him feel desired and wanted- literally says this on camera too

Showing immense admiration and respect for Jimin's artistry and being supportive of everything he does

Teleporting next to him

I can go on and on

So yes, we are guilty as charged.

Jungkook IS our standard of love

Will take him over you any day💀

[randomarttalent]

Apple family redesigns + Family tree

Original posts, info and links down below Keep reading

Apple "Jacqueline" Jack + Rainbow Dash

Apple "Jacqueline" Jack I've added some extra colors to her mane, as I think the design could be pushed further without making her unrecognizable. The extra features I have added are also to make her design more interesting, as well as a call back to her work at the farm. 

I wanted her design to look feminine but also masculine, as that is something I feel fits her character. 

Rainbow Dash Dash's whole color pallet has turned more dark and grey, as this is just a personal taste of mine. Her body features have turned sharp, as a way to show her speed and as a pegasus body type.

She still works for the Wonderbolts as a captain, her badge shows this. Dash is still very adventurous and bold, pushing herself further than she probably should.

Big McIntosh + Sugar "Cube" Bell

Big McIntosh I've darkened his whole pallet, as I wanted him to contras his siblings. I personally also like the fan canon that he's either trans/a drag queen, which he is here in All Love No War AU. So once all the work is done, Big Mac can let his more feminine colors out, which his wife very much supports. She gets to make him pretty and make him feel like his true self.

Sugar "Cube" Bell I've greyed her whole pallet and made her figure more long, as that's the way I draw unicorns. I've shortened her hair and let it loose, as I think it would change with time and all the kids she's had. Plus her working now at the farm and long hair would get stuck on a lot of things. Both are happily married and have been for years now. They have learned to work around their faults and love each other deeply and never would pick another.

Tender Taps + Apple Bloom

Tender Taps Taps is still a dancer but he's now become a backstage dancer. Working with ponies such as Sweetie Bellè, Coloratura "Colorful" and even Songbird Serenade. After passing his exam he was recruited by Sapphire Shores personally and has worked under her ever since.

His whole pallet has been darkened and his markings are very sharp and frame his face. His mane is pretty much the same, it's just become darker and an extra line has been added. For his cutie mark, I've added a bowtie and some sparking but I didn't add much, as I felt it already fit him. The outfit he has on is for the next show, where the theme is more rock.

Apple Bloom Bloom has grown much in height, towering over everyone except her big brother Mac. She still works at the School of Friendship, teaching biology and about cutie marks with (Scootaloo) Speedy Scoot-"aloo".

I made her whole pallet warmer and all of her accessories soft in color. So even though she is extremely tall, she still feels welcoming and like a friend. I've added more color to her mane, making a gradient from a darker red to a pinkish one. Her cutie maker is now more about her talent than just the Cutie Mark Crusaders, the heart in the middle is what ties them together. After Goldie Delicious's passing, she decided to wear her shawl, in memory of her.

[dyns33]

A bit jealous

Another Dream x Hob!Reader 

Even if he refused to admit it, Y/N had very quickly noticed that Morpheus was a jealous, proud and possessive being.

In a way, this was quite normal since he was a millennial, eternal creature, a king ruling over his kingdom and his subjects with care, therefore feeling responsible for them and doing everything to keep them safe. Their happiness was a plus, and their love was not a necessity, even if he smiled shyly when he felt that Lucienne or Matthew really cared about him.

Obviously, since they were together, Y/N could not escape this primary need for control and protection.

Morpheus didn't hate his dear lover's friends, but he was suspicious of them, wanting to make sure they were worthy of her, that they weren't going to put her in dangerous situations, and above all that they weren't going to hurt her.

Secretly, he also had a vicious fear that she would prefer the company of one of them to his own. Because even if they were both more or less immortal, it was not enough for a couple to work, and he was confident that he had many faults. His previous relationships had cruelly demonstrated this to him.

     "Nobody is perfect." Y/N had reassured him. "Not you, not me, no one. There are bound to be times when we disagree, when we argue. It's happened before. But I love you. You love me. With patience and dialogue, everything can be arranged. I'm not going to leave with someone else just because you annoyed me a little."

     "I have often heard that I have no patience, let alone the capacity for dialogue."

"No, boss, I said you had little capacity for dialogue, but sometimes you can find the right words."

     "Thank you Matthew."

    "Well, I would have enough patience for both of us then."

This reassured the master of dreams a bit, even though he continued to be jealous of her friends, and of the time she spent in the waking world, away from him. He sometimes visited her because he missed her too much, and to please her, although he was not comfortable, away from his kingdom.

Things weren't necessarily better when Y/N was wandering around the Dreaming. Because while he cared for his subjects, Morpheus also grew jealous of the attention his lover gave them.

Lucienne, Mervyn, Abel, Cain, Goldy, all the dreams and nightmares she had had , they all felt their creator's cold, accusing gaze on their backs, which made them tremble.

Of course, he didn't say anything, he didn't punish them, that would have been absurd. He just sulked, the rain falling for hours in the Dreaming, until Y/N finally came back to him.

     "You're ridiculous." she said each time, smiling and kissing him.

     "And you spend a lot of time with my subjects. Which is a good thing, I'm glad you like them, and they like you. But sometimes you spend more time with them than with me. Like Matthew. Here and in the waking world."

     "Remind me who asked him to watch me ?"

     "That doesn't mean he necessarily has to talk to you."

     "Poor thing, I'm not going to leave him out in the cold when he could be next to me on the couch. And before you say it should be you on the couch, that's not his fault if you are busy in your palace."

Y/N was certainly Matthew's favorite human, who had decided that she was the best partner his boss had ever had, even if he hadn't met any of the other. It didn't seem necessary to him, the others had left, while Y/N was still there, which was already an immense proof of her love for his great, but silly boss.

If he loved her so much, it was because he saw how happy the couple was, but also because the immortal woman took the time to listen to him, kept his secrets and did her best to reassure him. when he thought he was not a good raven.

If he couldn't be as good as Jessamy, and therefore not be Morpheus' favorite, he could be Y/N's favorite, and that was enough.

Seeing how more serene his raven seemed with his lover, Dream didn't try to separate them.

A friendship he had more difficulty accepting was the one she had with Hob Gabling. The project of his dear sister was a handsome, charming, funny man. Although it was yet another thing he refused to admit, he liked him. Which was a problem, because he considered him to be a real threat.

As an immortal, charismatic, and celibate man, Hob could please Y/N, and Morpheus regretted introducing them.

These fears never went away, but Hob never attempted anything with his lover. Respectful and polite, he told her about his experience as an none dying human, asking her what she had been through. They realized that they could often have crossed paths.

Soon they were like brother and sister, which was a good thing. Except when Hob behaved like a big brother.

     "I hope Morpheus treats you well. We sometimes talk about it with Death, and he can be really insufferable. I tried to be his friend once, and he left looking constipated. Because he's emotionally constipated. Sometimes I'm sure I see him in my dreams, staring at me with a scary look."

     "Morpheus..."

     "I'm not necessarily in all the dreams, there's no proof that it's actually me."

     "He ever told you about Shakespeare ? I need to tell you about Shakespeare."

     "It's late, we should go my love." Dream said standing up, putting his coat on her shoulders because it was cold, that he knew she liked his coat that contained the galaxy, and that he liked to see her wearing his clothes.

     "I'll tell you another time !"

That night, it snowed in the Dreaming, which made all its inhabitants panic. Snow wasn't really a good thing, even worse than rain or storm.

Lucienne ran up to Morpheus, who was standing on the balcony, with Y/N.

     "My Lord... Are you all right ?"

     "Yes, why ?"

      “It... It's snowing ?"

     "Oh, yes, sorry." Y/N answered with bright eyes. "There won't be any snow in my town this year, so Morpheus is giving me some here."

Like a child seeing snow for the first time, the immortal woman then turned her attention back to the snowflakes, while the Master of Dreams only had eyes for her, smiling tenderly at her excitement.

This moved the librarian a little, as well as the other dreams. Only Mervyn complained, because he was the one who was going to have to clean up. Even though it was nice that the boss was happy, he didn't have to put snow everywhere !

There remained Dream's family.

The beings who annoyed him the most in the world and for whom he was ready to do anything, because family was sacred, even when he wanted to kill some of his siblings.

Destiny never sought to meet Y/N, which was normal because the eldest of the Endless never got involved in anything. This reassured Dream, while saddening him a bit. He wished his brother had shown some interest in his lover, indicating that she was as special as he thought.

It was natural for Death to become friends with Y/N. Since Death became friends with almost everyone, and she was the one who offered her immortality to please his brother.

Morpheus was always scared when they were together. He was afraid that his sister would say embarrassing things about him, but also that she would decide to take back her gift. She had promised she wouldn't unless Y/N asked her to, but anything could happen.

So he was never far away when they met, trembling when his sister touched Y/N, and hoping he showed her enough love that she never wanted to leave this world.

Since he was happy, Desire, Despair and Delirium had to try to ruin everything by approaching the source of his happiness. Morpheus would never understand the behavior of the youngest members of their family, their childishness, and the need they had to harm him.

He went to see each of them in turn to remind them that their quarrel should not affect other people, and that if they hurt Y/N, or tried to separate them, they would be in serious trouble.

This somewhat calmed Delirium and Despair, who just wanted to have fun teasing him, but were smart enough to be afraid of his wrath. He wasn't sure Desire had listened to what he was saying.

Once, it was obvious that Y/N had encountered Destruction. This startled all of the Endless, who turned their attention to her, much to Morpheus' chagrin.

     "What do you mean, you think you've met my brother ?" he asked her slowly, feeling the gaze of the others on them.

     "Well, Lucienne was telling me about him, describing me as he was, his behavior, and I remembered that one day I met a guy who looked like that."

     "That doesn't mean he was my brother."

     "It was during a war, in Eastern Europe. According to the years, either he hadn't left yet or it had just happened, I'm not sure. I was walking around the world, avoiding attracting attention, and while I was in a bar, he offered me a drink. He said, 'for an intrepid traveler, who has come a long way for a long time and who must need to breathe a little'. He added that he knew someone like that, his brother. That I would no doubt like him and that it would do him good to meet me for a chat, at least once in a while. "

     "... You met my brother." sighed Morpheus, who used all his powers to prevent the others from entering his kingdom and asking Y/N a lot of useless questions.

     "He was nice. Very tall too. Are you all taller than humans ?"

     "No. Only when we want to be."

     "He said he was going to miss you, but he couldn't stay."

Dream said nothing. He had never understood Destruction's departure. It was selfish of him to abandon his kingdom like this.

     "I think I understand." Y/N then said, shaking her head.

     "Don't take this the wrong way, but it would surprise me."

     "Death explained to me about your jobs, and what happens if one of you dies. They are replaced, and the new one is not really new. You, but not you. Your brother was tired after a long road. He wanted to rest, while seeing that the world was destroying itself very well on its own. But he didn't want to die, and become someone else. So he left, and yes it's a little selfish, and he never said that you have to do the same. We saw what happened when you were locked up, it's not possible for you to leave, and it's sad in a way. But he's no longer there, and there is always war, wickedness, chaos. He saw that it would not be a problem for him to leave, except for his family."

The explanation was convincing, but Morpheus didn't really listen to it. He just realized that his brother had spoken more with Y/N than with him, and that made him a bit jealous. And maybe it had been easier to talk to a stranger, easier because Dream had refused to hear what he had to say, easier because Destruction knew who she was and she would mediate. 

But he was jealous, jealous of his brother for buying his lover a drink when she wasn't his yet and he was too stupid to come and see her more than once every hundred years, and jealous of Y/N, who had been able to see Destruction for the last time.

     "... I can be a bit proud, jealous and possessive."

     "A bit ?! Boss, you..."

     "Matthew." Y/N muttered, gently shooing him away. "It's good to admit it, Dream. It's a step in the right direction !"

     "I have no intention of changing that."

     "It's still good." she repeated with a forced smile, visibly disappointed, but still thinking that he was adorable.

There had already been a lot of changes since Morpheus' return, and since he had been dating Y/N. It wasn't so bad if he didn't change more, as long as he could control himself and just stare at people in their dreams.

[thewriterg]

𝐏𝐮𝐦𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧’ 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞

pairing(s); tony stark x fem!reader, thor odinson x best friend!reader

summary; Tony knew he fucked up but what could pumpkin spice food not solve nothing he hoped —flufftober day; 9—

word count; 1.0k+

warning(s); reader not taking Tony’s shi, small argument, Medusa coded reader, fluff, pet names, kisses and language

playlist; moment by vierre cloud

A/n:—GIFs; @animusrox— Gif does not determine race!

“Goldie!? Hey! Where’s my girl?” Tony called out to the blonde who perked up at his set in stone selection ‘assigned name’ his steps thundering into the floor no pun intended as he approached the brunette billionaire

“Lady Y/n is not fond of you at the moment Stark I suggest you steer clear” Thor’s voice naturally loud and booming carried through the practically empty hallways and Tony fought the urge to thank him for staying the obvious

He knew you were pissed at him he had six different voicemails to prove it but he didn’t expect his meeting to run over, he should’ve seen it coming

“Yeah I got that, just give me a hint where she is blues clues?” The Asgardians face turning up in confusion at the connection a sigh falling from his pink lips shaking his head at the former playboy and the god of thunder began to think of a hundred and one ways to you as the answer spewed through his teeth

“Training room.” Thor began to walk away before Tony could respond but he wasn’t fawning over the thought as he headed towards the elevator down to the training area

Your hands were wrapped in white tape thin gauze underneath blotches of crimson seeping through your knuckles grazing the skin of your opponent as you spared with a shield agent and and Tony noted how close you were to not pulling your punched line you usually do when you trained with someone else and how your eyes flickered that dangerous white that made you look blind

The snakes in your hair nipped and hiss at the dirty blonde opponent their emerald green scales shining under the light

Throwing a kick to the man’s side causing his stance to alter before swiping your feet under his causing him to fall downward towards the mat your eyes changed back to their original color as you started down at your counterpart as he held back a groan in his throat

“Sorry about that Brent” You mumbled holding out a hand to the dirty blonde as he waved you off taking your hand to stand nothing to sweat about in his eyes he stepped out of the the ring grabbing a folded towel slinging it over his shoulder as he made his way towards the locker room a hot shower on his mind spotting Tony leaning against the door frame of the hall

“Tried to work as much steam as I could off her, good luck man” Brent clapped his hand on the billionaires shoulder before walking off just You and Tony in the room now as he watched you sigh stepping out the ring before turning to face the brunette the pythons in your hair got hostile at the sight of him your eyes turning blind white

“You have some nerve” Your head quite literally rang with hisses and defensive sounds a common misconceptions was that your reptiles had a mind of your own and it wasn’t completely true nor false but they structured off of your emotions

“Hey honey! Woah! Girls are mad at me too huh!? Woah! I know please just let me explain” He stepped backwards to avoid the snakes while you took a step forward that looked like they would make a man meal out of him

“Thirty seconds” You hissed the pythons doing the same their pink tongues out a slithering at him but slightly backing down nonetheless while you glared your eyebrows furrowed

“My meeting ran over and I know that’s not an excuse but I’m sorry even in technically it wasn’t my fault” The billionaire rushed out

“Fifteen” You growled

“And I will make it up to you anywhere you wanna go, anything you wanna do. What is it Tuesday?”

“Wednesday” You corrected with a grumble

“Wednesday, I’ll get Happy to cancel everything for the rest of the week everything we can do whatever you wanna do” The brunette knew how to sweet talk you and deep down you knew it was working but you weren’t going to show him that

“I want to be on the jet by 6, France. No bags packed we shop when we get there” Tony knew deep down you really meant when you both got there you were going to shop and his credit card would be the victim

“Whatever you want honey” Your hands were brought into his before you took them away walking away from the billionaire as he watched the sway of your hips in your joggers being distracted he wasn’t quick enough to catch the towel you through at him that was once slung over your shoulder

“Six o’clock!” He called out to you just to get no response from you

💌💌💌💌

You walked out onto the walkway the jet set in stone less than twenty feet away from you Tony stood at the stairs to the entrance of your flight as you walked the way your pump hitting the concrete with a click a dark green trench coat on your arms and over your shoulder the cold air multiplied as the sun began to set

Once you approached the front of the stairs you ignored the pale hand held out for you loading the jet yourself with no help and you missed the small borderline grin the billionaire gave you before loading into the jet behind you sitting next to your frame

“Gonna sip something nice with me?” When you turn to face Tony you expected to be a flute of champagne thrown down your throat what you didn’t expect was the familiar coffee cup of your favorite coffee shop to flood your senses its sweet smell clouding your judgement

“Pumpkin spice everything nice huh?” That was one of the things that kept you in trouble when it came to Tony that shit eating grin and terrible timing sarcasm

“What’s not gonna be nice is the meeting with your bank you’re gonna have” You mumbled trying to hold a smirk back from etching its way on your face and the brunette couldn’t hold back a chuckle his chocolate eye gazing over your features

“Yeah I plan on it honey”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify

[justagalwhowrites]

Prompt 91 babyyyyy

OMG Hi Bestie

Thank you so much for sending in this suggestion! I LOVED this prompt and @1soff also shared it.

This is starring Joel and a new FMC who you'll likely be meeting soon (probably this fall?) who Joel calls Goldie. This is going to be a no-outbreak modern AU Joel romantic dramady fic. They were best friends in high school but had a falling out at the end of their senior year and went their separate ways until Goldie moves back to Austin when they're in their early 30s. This scene isn't going to be canon for their story BUT you'll at least get a taste for Joel and Goldie!

Thank you for being here! I hope you like Joel and Goldie! Love you so much!

Pick Me

You and your high school best friend, Joel Miller, reconnect after years apart.

Based on Prompt 91: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (nicknamed Goldie)

Warnings: None :) No use of Y/N.

Length: 1.8K

“You’re not going to make me like this damn town,” you said, taking a drink off the flask and passing it back to Joel. Your legs were dangling over the rock toward the river below, the stars bright overhead. “Doesn’t matter how many times we try to act like teenagers breaking into the state park, it’s not going to work.” 

“I’ll wear ya down,” he said, taking a drink himself. “If you’re stuck here, may as well try to enjoy it.” 

You sighed, looking out at the Austin skyline as Joel handed the flask back to you. You took another drink. 

This stupid fucking city held what seemed like everything bad that had ever happened to you. Your father, how your mother died, Anna’s descent into addiction that you knew was at least partially your fault. 

But it also had Joel. 

The one, incredibly determined bright spot that had been here even as you tried as hard as you could to run from it. Liking Austin was dangerous. Liking JOEL was dangerous.

“How’s the school treatin’ ya?” He asked after a minute. 

“Pretty good, actually,” you nodded. “Better than Ohio did when I started there.” 

“Fuckin’ Ohio,” Joel said, glancing at you with a sly smile on his lips. You snorted. He held out his hand. “You’re bogarting the booze, Goldie.” 

“What, you think it’s yours or something?” You teased, handing the flask back. 

“Unless your last name is suddenly Miller,” he teased back, tapping the engraved side of it. He took a swig. “But they got you teachin’… fuck, whatever the interesting shit is English professors get to teach?” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I have 18th century British Literature which is a good one for me, anyway. Literature for writers is another one I’m liking so far. Plus some workshops. It’s mostly upperclassmen so they’re all kids who are there because they care about the subject, not just to fulfill some requirements to graduate.

“I think the school is sucking up to me a bit, though,” you said. “I picked a good time to have my life completely implode and need to job hunt. I had some good name recognition from my book. They want to try to keep me around so they’re letting me teach the cool shit instead of needing to work my way up.” 

He nodded slowly and handed you the flask back. You ran your thumb over the engraving, watching his name catch the light of the moon. You took another drink. 

“You’re still too smart to be hangin’ out with me,” he smiled a little. “Not arguin’, just pointin’ out some truths for you.” 

“You’re still too cool to be hanging out with me,” you smiled back. “Think we’re even.” 

“I was never that cool,” he replied. 

“Oh I know,” you laughed. “I was just a huge fucking loser.” 

He laughed at that. You handed him the flask. 

Joel was sitting close to you, so close that your leg sometimes brushed his when it swung out over the water below. His hand brushed yours as he leaned back on the rock, his fingertips slipping into the gaps between your own. You took your hand back and lay down on the stone, looking up at the sky overhead. 

The whiskey had set in, a pleasant buzz running over you as you watched the lights from distant planes flying overhead. You wondered idly where they were going, if the people aboard were excited for vacation or traveling for business or on their way to a funeral. You always wanted to know things like that. It was your curse, that’s what your mother had called it. That you had all these questions about how the people around you moved through the world, like you wanted to crawl inside their skin and live as them for a day, just to see what it was like to occupy the same space as another person, have their heartbeat, feel the creases in their flesh as it existed to them. 

“You ever wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed here after high school?” Joel asked. You looked over at him. He took another drink. “Gone to UT and shit instead of runnin’ off to Columbia?” 

“All the time,” you replied. “But I think about a lot of different versions of myself. In some alternate universe there’s a me who went to Iowa for undergrad and never met fucking Brad…” 

“Fuckin’ Brad,” Joel echoed. You looked up at him and caught a glimpse of his smile. 

“There’s another one who moved to London and never went to college,” you said. “She’s just waiting tables and writing shitty poems in an apartment she shares with three other people. But she’s pretty happy there, so good on her I guess.” 

Joel paused before looking down at you. 

“The version who stayed?” He asked. 

You sighed. 

“I’m really not sure,” you said. “I’m sure we would have stayed friends the whole time instead of falling out of touch…” 

“We weren’t talkin’ when you left,” he said. 

“I know,” you sighed. “But I think we’d have moved past that pretty quick if we were in the same damn city.” 

“Makes sense,” he agreed after a moment. 

“I’m not sure about her beyond that, though,” you said after a moment of quiet.

He was quiet but lay down next to you on the rock, looking up at the stars. His body was warm, even from a few inches away. 

“Missed you, you know,” he said, turning his head to look at you. 

“Missed you, too,” you said, smiling a little back at him before looking back at the stars again. “You know, more than I think about staying here, I wonder what would have happened if we’d never… you know. If we’d just stayed friends.” 

“Yeah?” He said. His eyes were still on you, you could feel him watching you. “What do you think would’ve happened?” 

“I wouldn’t have married fuckin’ Brad,” you laughed. “You’d have seen right through his shit and talked me out of that one real quick.” 

He snorted. 

“I only met the guy once but he was a fuckin’ dick,” he said. 

“See?” You smiled. “I needed someone to point that out to me, I couldn’t see him for what he was. I needed someone who could.” 

“I probably wouldn’t have Sarah,” you heard him frown then. “Shit, that’s weird to think about… I doubt I’d have gone to the bar and hooked up with her mom that night if we’d still been friends.” 

“That whole ripple effect thing,” you sighed. “Change one thing and the whole world shifts. But assuming you would still have Sarah - that girl is inevitable, you cannot deny her. She’d will herself into existence if you weren’t there to help her along - what would be different for you?” 

He laughed a little and then sighed. 

“Might have actually done the community college thing,” he shrugged. “You would have been on my ass about it until I fuckin’ enrolled…” 

“Damn right I would’ve,” you replied. 

“I’d probably have just flunked out though,” he said. “Then I’d have a bunch of loans and nothin’ to show for it.” 

“Damn,” you sighed but smiled slightly, turning your head to look at him. “Who knew I’d be such a bad influence on you.” 

“Nah,” he smiled. “My mom’s never wrong about that shit and she liked you. It’d be good.” 

“Oh, well, if I had Mrs. Miller’s blessing…” you teased. 

You just lay there, looking at each other for a bit, the rock cool below you, the river drowning out the sounds of the city that lay just out of reach on the horizon. There was a knot in your stomach when you looked at Joel for too long, something that seemed to want to dig into you, something that had lingered whenever he came to mind for years. 

“Oh hey,” you said, desperate to have something else to talk about. “How did your date go the other night? The one girl you were doubling with Tommy and Maria with?” 

“Oh,” Joel paused for a moment. “It was fine, I guess, but we didn’t really… I dunno, click or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. We’re not goin’ out again.” 

“She was that bad in bed, eh?” You teased. Even in the dark you caught his frown. 

“Wouldn’t know,” he said. “Didn’t fuck her.” 

“Really?” You frowned a bit, surprised. “Well, good for you.” 

“Feel like you’re implyin’ somethin’ about my dating history, Goldie,” he smiled a little. 

“Just that you’re good at charming the pants off your dates,” you smiled back. “Which I’d think most men would take as a compliment.” 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, going quiet again. 

He was so close to you, so close it felt dangerous.

“Still talkin’ to that one guy?” Joel asked. “What’s his name?” 

“Eric?” You asked. “The guy whose texts I showed you to see if you thought he was a whack job?” 

“That’s the one,” Joel laughed a little. 

“Yeah, actually,” you smiled a bit. “We’re going out this weekend, some concert he wants to see. Who cares as long as it gets me out of my damn apartment…” 

“Don’t go on that date,” Joel cut you off. 

“Why?” You breathed, your heart pounding against your ribs. The sad, homesick longing you’d had for him for what felt like your entire life was sharp and hot inside your stomach. 

“You know why.” 

“Say it.”

“I love you, Goldie,” he said, looking at you so intently that you could feel it in your blood. “I’ve loved you since were fuckin’ 16 years old and…” 

“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” your voice broke as you said it. “Don’t treat me like one of the girls you date where you say whatever it is you say to them to get them into bed…” 

“You think that’s what this is?” He rolled onto his side so he was looking down at you, his body just inches from your own. “That any of that shit wasn’t to make up for not havin’ you when you left?” 

“That’s not…” you began but he cut you off. 

“You’re it for me,” he said. “Knew it when we were 16 years old, knew it on prom night, knew it the day you left town. 

“Don’t go out with that fuckin’ guy. He seems… fine. He does, Goldie. He seems better than fuckin’ Brad but Jesus, you deserve so much better than fine. Let me try to be somethin’ close to what you deserve. Don’t go on that date.” 

“Joel,” you breathed. 

“Don’t go on that date.”

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I’ll…” 

And, for the first time in 14 years, your best friend kissed you, his hand slipping around to the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his own as his lips met yours all soft and sweet. It left you breathless when he pulled away. 

“Good,” he said. “That’s… good."

"Yeah," you said. "I think it is."

[amostimprobabledream]

Stardust in my eyes (Homelander x Reader)

Also available on Ao3: stardust in my eyes - UnluckyAmulet - The Boys (TV 2019) [Archive of Our Own]

Sometimes, working for Vought just gets to be too goddamn much. Which is why that fateful day, you and a couple of friends had gone to get lunch and in the corner of the canteen for worker bee drones, things went from gossiping about random drama between colleagues to playing an oldie but goldie. You and your friend Claire had been playing Smash or Pass for the past ten minutes and you'd gone through damn nearly every person you knew at work. Obviously, it was all good fun, and you were being careful not to be too loud about it, but as you picked at your lunch, Claire decided to up the ante a bit. Now, it was Smash or Pass: Supe edition. Specifically, you were talking about the Seven. You’d already done A-train and Starlight, both of which you’d said Pass to, while Claire said Smash to both. "Okay, so how about...The Deep?" she said. You made a face. "Ew. Pass." "How come?" "Firstly, he smells of fish.” You say, slurping on your drink. “Like, constantly. Secondly, I heard a rumour he made an intern cry because he was rubbing his crotch against her ass on the elevator ride up, so yeah, no. If I wanted a fucking creep, I could go to any dive bar in the city." “Ew, I didn’t know that last thing.” Claire says, making a face. “Okay, fine, I’m changing my answer to pass too.” You snort, and she points at you. “Hey, don’t judge me! It’s not my fault you’re so picky you’ve said no to like everyone.” "I'm not picky, I'm selective." you counter. "It's not my fault you'd let the Seven pass you around like a Christmas present." Claire scoffs but she can't argue - she's said Smash to way more people than you have, not just Supes or co-workers. "Queen Maeve?" "Pass." "What?!" Claire shrieks. "Why?!" "Because unlike you, I don't have a mommy kink." you say, rolling your eyes. "I dunno, she's not my type. Plus, she always acts so damn bored by everything - she'd probably just expect you to get her off and then kick you out of bed and play fucking Candy Crush or something. No thanks, I don't want to do all the hard work." "Okay, okay...what about Homelander?" You pause.

Okay, that one isn't quite so simple. The Deep, A-Train, Starlight and Queen Maeve were all a fairly straightforward "no" and you haven't gotten to Black Noir yet, but somehow the answer eludes you. Homelander seems so far removed from normal human with their normal, squishy desires that it's difficult to even imagine having sex with him. You're sure you've never seen him out of that costume of his, either. But you're definitely considering it... "You're taking way too long to answer~" Claire singsongs. "Don’t tell me you’ve got a boner for that sexy cape?” "Firstly, shut up. And secondly, yeah, okay, he's attractive but like..." you paused as you try to organise your thoughts, wondering what made you hesitate, except for the whole 'Almighty symbol of America who can shoot lasers from his eyes' thing. "I kinda feel like I'd be getting it on with someone's dad?" You had no idea how old Homelander was, only that he was definitely older than you. Plus, there was his vaguely patriarchal vibe when he addressed the adoring public, like he was steering them onto the right path or something. Not that you exactly opposed to sleeping with older men, per se, but you’d prefer to know how much older somebody was first.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Claire says thoughtfully, chewing on her sandwich as you both stand up to toss your wrappers away and get back to work. “There’s something a little fake about him. And he probably says ‘God bless America’ when he comes or something.” You nearly spit out the last of your soda, and bubbles go up your nose, which makes you hack and cough from an effort of not cackling, pounding your fist on your chest. “Fucking hell, you’re the worst!” you say, giving her arm a playful shove. She smirks and shrugs. “Just being honest. Anyway, we’re not done playing yet. Black Noir?" You think about it. "Smash." ~ You were about to head back to your desk with Claire when Ashley suddenly comes clacking up to you both with her usual harried expression on her face. Some days you feel like she's maybe a hair's breadth away from having a nervous breakdown, and you'd nearly feel bad for her if she wasn't so annoying. You can't pretend you haven't seen her, either, because she calls your name. You make a face at Claire, then turn to Ashley as she approaches. "Hey! I'm glad I caught you. Listen, the Seven have a meeting later on this afternoon but I don’t have time to put their itinerary in the meeting room, can you do it and just make sure everything looks presentable before then?” You suppress the flicker of irritation - what do you look like, a Janitor? "Uh, sure, I guess. It's just the desks, right?" "Yeah, everything else has been taken care of!" Ashley says, looking a little calmer at confirming that nearly every other matter is all perfectly sorted and pencilled into her little schedule. "Thanks so much!" She goes clicking off and you exchange a confused glance with Claire. "That was weird. Why did she ask you specifically?" Claire said. "I have no idea, but at least it'll only take me like five minutes." you sigh. "I'll be back soon." ~

The conference room is so fucking big that you take a second to just stand there and gawk at the panoramic view of the city through the windows, before you snap to attention. You don't want to linger in here - even if you're just here to straighten up the table before the Supes get here for whatever big important meeting they have. You still think it's weird Ashley told you to do it, and it feels even odder to be in here alone. Like you're trespassing. "Let's just get this over with..." you mutter to yourself, crossing the room and beginning to put the piles of papers on each table, starting from Starlight's seat and working your way around. After a few minutes you relax. It's even a little nice, getting a couple of moments away from everyone else. Vought is a massive office building but there's nowhere to be really alone - people are always sneaking out the fire escapes for a smoke, the toilets have gossiping employees, the canteen full of people with differing lunch shifts, etc. There's always a buzz, always endless humming in the background. You've compared the place to a beehive before for good reason. You're just about done, wondering if by doing this, Ashley was testing you or something - maybe she wanted to see you could be trusted in here, and now you've basically finished, you've passed and she might think about putting in a good word for you to the higher-ups, when a voice damn near give you a heart attack: "Lost in thought?" You shriek and drop the handful of papers you were holding. When you look around, the Homelander is standing there. You didn't even hear him come in. For a minute you're so startled you just stare at him - it's like seeing a snow leopard, something impossibly exotic and rare, and the fact he's even talking to you is even more of a surprise. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest, and you wonder if he can hear it - he's smiling like you've just told a good joke. "Oh, Homelander!" you say, because it's what he tells all the staff they should call him, pressing a hand to your chest. "You scared me. Um, I can leave, I'm pretty much done here." His familiar smile only widens, and he gestures with a flick of his wrist. "Don't let me stop you. Might as well finish up what you came to do, right?" You awkwardly smile in response, unsure of what else to say, and go to grab the papers you dropped, blood rushing through your ears. You're hyperaware of him in the room, where he rightfully belongs, while you just wound up here because Ashley needed somebody to do some last-second grunt work. When you put the stack of files on Black Noir's desk and pointlessly straighten them, Homelander speaks again, pacing a little closer. "You know...you should probably be a little more careful about what you talk about with your friends while you're in the building." You freeze. Oh shit. "I mean...I guess you had no way of knowing who was listening, but...well, let's just say, it was pretty hard not to tune in, you know?" Oh my god. You went to melt through the floor. You straighten up to watch Homelander, who has an expression that's slightly chiding but amused, like you're a little kid who's learned a new swear word or something. He doesn't seem angry, but the thought he overheard you and Claire paying fucking Smash or Pass is enough to ignite your anxiety like a spark to gunpowder. "I-"

"I gotta say, you're not wrong about The Deep - he does fucking stink of fish," Homelander says conspiratorially. "Your little friend didn't seem to mind that, but she said Smash to nearly everyone. You though - you didn't seem interested in anyone besides Black Noir - I'll have to let him know, I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. Though who fucking knows, with that guy?" You feel like it's probably not the time to point out you did also admit you thought he was hot. You've got to do some damage control, here. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean - I wouldn't have said that if I didn't think it was being overheard." you blurt out hurriedly. This is a disaster. You want to strangle Claire, the fucking game was her dumb idea in the first place, she's the one who should be getting told off by Homelander, not you! "It- it was just a stupid game to pass the time." He cocks his head. "Was it?"

"I mean...it's not like...you're not..." you say, babbling like a fucking lunatic, doing anything you can to backpedal out of this. This has to be a dream - a fucked-up one. "You guys are Supes, so it's a totally moot point anyway! I-You- you were dating Queen Maeve until recently, right? It's not like you'd want to...I mean, we're just normal people and you're..." "Oh, I don't know about that." Homelander says, his tone almost jaunty, stepping a little closer. His hands are tucked behind his back, which makes you nervous, because you can't tell what he's going to do with them. "Let's see what we're working with here. Turn around." "What?" you splutter. "Go on." Homelander says, making a circular motion with his finger. "Do a spin for me." You feel queasy, like you need to go pop an antacid tablet, but what can you do? If he wanted to, he could well have you fired. Or chased out of town. Or maybe even deported. Who knows? You'd probably deserve it, to be honest - what the hell were you thinking, letting Claire rope you into that stupid Smash or Pass game?! Of course, you had no idea he was in the building at the time and could hear you, but still! Slowly you turn all the way around, aware of Homelander's eyes on you the entire time, heart pounding in your chest. When you turn back to him, his head is tilted slightly, mouth parted like he was about to say something. "Huh." was all that came out.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from demanding to know what 'huh' means. Unfortunately for you, he decides to share. "You know...the dress code for you people isn't very flattering, is it?" he muses. "I hadn't thought about it before. But you...huh. I think you've got a lot more going on under there." He gestures at you, a kind of 'go on' hand movement. "Take it off." It's not a suggestion, it's an order. A command. Your face prickles with shame, unable to quite grasp this is actually happening to you. And from Homelander - Mr. America himself. You're naive to be so shocked - around here, he may get treated like a god, but he's still just a man. "Go on." Homelander says, smiling, and you can't stop looking at those prominent canines. "Show me." You can't procrastinate further, lest he get impatient enough to strip you himself, or even worse, laser off your clothes or something. He probably wouldn't be overly bothered if he scorched your skin too, and the thought makes you sick. He could just use his X-ray vision if he wanted to, but that's not what this is. This is a punishment and you'd be stupid to make it any worse for yourself. You'll be lucky if you walk out of this room with your job. Your fingers shake as you unbutton your shirt and you keep peeking anxious glances at Homelander, but it's impossible to read his mood just by looking at him - his expression could be anything, bored or annoyed or merely waiting. It's eerie. He says nothing as you drop your shirt on the ground - you don't quite dare put it on the table or one of the chairs, so you're just grateful you know for a fact the floor has been vacuumed recently. But you can feel his never-wavering gaze on you like a weight as you keep going. You're down to your underwear and bend down to unzip your boots when he finally says something. "No, leave those."

You straighten up hurriedly, even though you really don't want to. This is beyond humiliating - America's golden boy is seeing you in just a bra and panties, for fuck's sake. They don't even match. Your face is burning and a squirming sensation writhes in the pit of your stomach, like you're about to pass out or puke or both. Homelander prowls around you like a lion, taking in everything from all angles, and you have to ball your hands into fists to stop yourself from covering yourself with your arms. You don't think you've ever felt so naked before, even if you're still technically clothed. His boots click as he comes to a stop right behind you. "You're shaking." Homelander mocks you, his breath hot on your neck. You can feel the heat of him right behind you, like you're standing right in front of a sun lamp. "Yeah," you say in one breath, even though you didn't think he was looking for a verbal response. He spins you around to face him, his grip bruisingly strong on your upper arms. He's smiling like he's won something, and his eyes slide down to your tits, eyelashes casting tiny shadows across his cheeks. "Yeah," he says softly, more to himself than you. "I'd fuck you." The words barely have time to register in your shellshocked brain before he's on you. His hand tangles in your hair to jerk your head back and you let out a squeak of pain, but it's muffled by his mouth on your, hot and vicious and unyielding. There's nothing tender about the kiss - he kisses you like he wants to devour you, a growl in the back of his throat that honest-to-god make your knees buckle. He's not shy about feeling you up either, hands roaming over your body like it’s a toy that he’s just ripped the wrapping paper off of, manhandling you however he wants and all you can really do is go with it, heart pounding like a goddamn jackhammer. This has gotten so out of hand so quickly that it’s dizzying trying to make sense of any of it. …So why is a little part of you enjoying this? Just why is there a wet patch pooling at the crotch of your panties and your skin erupting in tingles wherever he touches you? He snaps your bra open, ruining the clasp, and wastes no time in fondling your tits, the material dragging over your sensitive skin breaking them out in goosebumps. They’re fucking soft against his palms, hands that have killed, killed and killed again, but here he is massaging your tits like they’re priceless objects. He lowers his face and runs his tongue over them, and you nearly collapse right then and there – it’s like a fucking livewire pressed straight to your skin. He hums in approval at how responsive you are, teasing your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Apparently Homelander is a tits guy – that’s definitely never come up in any interviews before. Why are you finding yourself so fucking humiliated and wanting him to do more? Knowing you can’t do anything to stop him? Homelander pulls back for air and slowly swipes his tongue across his bottom lip – the taste of your lipgloss lingers, something sweet that makes him hard, dick pressing against his suit. You stare back at him, caught in the fragile place between lust and disgust. He likes that look on you, hair all messed up, pupils blown wide until there’s barely any iris left, just a thin circle of colour wrapped around blackness, and your lips look red-raw and swollen from his rough mouth. He smirks. “Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this,” he teases, sliding a hand down to your hip and squeezing. “You like getting ordered around, huh? Like being told what to do?” He doesn’t give you time to confirm or deny it – a second later he’s casually shoving his hand into your underwear, smirking as your mouth drops open in disbelief, his fingertips teasing against your slit. It drives a moan from your mouth, and he grins, holding you in place with his free hand, like he knows you’re tempted to bolt.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he hisses, plunging his fingers deeper inside your cunt and you gasp, making a pointless grab at his arm – to steady yourself, to get your bearings, you don’t know. “I think you were lying before – Pass, my ass. I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. Do you go home and fuck yourself thinking about me?”

“Homelander…” you moan, you can’t help it. Your head is swimming and his fingers are so thick and he’s relentless, pushing and pushing you without a care in the world about what might happen. Whether it’ll break you or not.

“Go on,” he whispers, working his fingers in and out of you, clamping you to his chest with an arm around your back so he can watch the emotions flashing across your face like his own personal picture show. “Say my name.” “Nn- Homelander!” “Louder.” “Homelander!” And then, as it starts to get fucking unbearable, the intoxicating fog blanketing your brain rendering you unable to concentrate on anything else, when you’re gonna fucking cum all over his fingers, he stops. Pulls his hand free. Your expression drops, surprise and outrage making your eyes snap to him. “Wha-?” “Didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” he all but purrs, clearly taking deep amusement in your bewilderment. “You fucking desperate little slut. You’ll come with I say you can.” He makes a show of wiping his slick-coated glove off on the back of The Deep’s chair, before he looks back down at you and something in his gaze makes you stand stock-still, a classic prey response to being stared at by a predator. “Now,” he says, and there’s no forced geniality in his voice anymore, his tone not far away from being a growl. “What was it I said a minute ago?”

Oh, jesus christ. You think, which you’re pretty sure wasn’t what he was aiming for. “Aah, yeah, I remember now,” he says, nodding. “I said I’d fuck you.” The room spins as he abruptly grabs you and aggressively turns you round, and next thing you know you’re bent forwards over the very desk you’d just spent the last fifteen minutes tidying – he only needs one hand pressing down on your back to hold you down. You hear his ragged breathing and the sound of his belt being loosened, and you squeak as he yanks down your underwear like he’s personally offended by them – you’re sure you hear something rip – and he’s back against you, so hot it’s like a furnace and oh shit, wait, he’s going in raw?! You grab pointlessly at what’s in front of you, papers crumpling in your sweaty fists. He does not go gentle as he thrusts into you and all you can do is make a strangulated keening noise – he’s so thick, filling you up and stretching you out. You bury your face into your forearms, muffling your gasps and squeaking against your skin because the noises he’s driving from you are making you want to combust with embarrassment. Not that he can’t hear them anyway – he’s made the fact he has superhearing more than plain, after all. But he can’t help finding it endearing you’d even bother to try hiding it – like anybody would dare walk in and interrupt him right now. Not after he specifically told Ashley to keep everyone away from the meeting room while he dealt with you. “Fuck, you’re tight…” Homelander growls as he thrusts into you, his own words being drowned out by moaning of his own. “So fuckin’…” You stare at the doors across from you, terrified somebody’s going to come in and see you like this, getting fucked by Homelander like a bitch in heat – he hasn’t even taken off his gloves but here you are, only the straps of your bra and a pair of over-the-knee boots covering you. Homelander removes the hand from your back and grips your hips with enough force that you yelp in pain – it’s nothing close to what he could really do, but you know you’re going to have hand-shaped marks there later. Not that you care much with how he’s fucking you with total abandon now, and each stroke of his cock drives you closer and closer to your breaking point and you cling onto the table with one hand like it’s going to help you somehow. “Still feel like you’re fuckin’ someone’s dad?” Homelander taunts you as his thrusts start to get sloppier, more erratic, and you groan to have your words thrown back at you. “No, no, Homelander, I- “ He pinches your clit and rolls it between his fingertips, and you keen out loud, nearly sobbing with pleasure and pain at the same time. Your head is buzzing with the stimulation, trapped between so many sensations, terror of getting caught, of getting so close to relief, panic that he’ll go too far and break something, of what he’ll do with you when he’s finished… “No, no,” he chides you, clicking his tongue like you’ve given him the wrong answer in a quiz. “Call me daddy, if that’s how you see me.” Is he serious? You have no idea if he means it or if he’s just being a bastard, but a particularly hard thrust that actually nudges both you and the table forwards has you saying it anyway, babbling like a lunatic. “Sorry- agh- daddy, fuck, that feels so good-!” “Thassit…nnh…I’m gonna…fuck you full of my cum…” he pants and it sends a bizarre buzz of pride through you that you managed to make a Supe short of breath. “And you’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you? Take all of my cum…”

Like you have a choice, since he didn’t bother to put any protection on. But you’re too lost in your own orgasm to care, the force of it rendering you utterly blissed out, too busy riding that glorious, tingling high to care much about anything else going on, even if you can’t ignore the hot, sticky flood as he comes, and fuck there’s so much of it, how are you going to go back to work like this?? Homelander makes a sound between a groan and a snarl as he comes and you know you’ll be hearing that noise in your dreams.

Finally, it stops. For a moment neither of you move or speak, except for panting breaths, and you want to look behind you to see what mood he’s in now, but you don’t quite dare. He moves away and you slump onto the floor, because you’d really rather not have your naked ass just there on display across the table. You feel blindly across the floor for your skirt and tug it on as Homelander tucks himself back into his suit and sniffs once, swiping a hand through his hair. You can’t find your fucking underwear, you realise with a stab of panic – he must have literally ripped them straight off you, so you wouldn’t be able to put them back on anyway, so you just shove your arms through your shirt and try in vain to button it with trembling fingers.

“Tell Ashley the room’s ready now,” Homelander says, and his voice is impersonal, like he’s done nothing more than take care of some trivial order of business. You can only nod and get to your feet, wobbly as a newborn deer. Homelander smirks as he watches you from the side of his eye, you look so pathetic and off-balance he’s almost tempted to fuck you again, but he does have work to get back to. You’re off the hook – for now. When you get to the doors, you pause and look back at him. It would probably be better to just leave with whatever semblance of dignity you still have intact, but you have to ask him.

"Um...do I... I mean like...I still have a job, right?" you hedge nervously. "What?" Homelander glances over at you laughs, like this is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Did you think I was going to hand you your fucking notice?" Yes? No? You had no idea what he was going to do. But you just shrug, because it seems safer than speaking. He scoffs and gives his head a shake, but his gaze drags down your body and your stomach clenches again, despite what’s just happened. “Run along and get back to work like a good girl,” he says softly, but loud enough you can hear every word just fine. “I think we’ll be seeing each other again real soon.” You can’t muster a response to that, so you just nod and hurry out, trying your utmost not to break into a run, lest he be tempted to give chase. You pass a mirror on your way down the corridor and the sight makes you freeze. You look like you’ve been mauled by a wild animal, and you can smell Homelander’s cologne all over you. You probably reek of sex. You’re not sure how far that is from the truth, to be honest. Hopefully you can make it to the toilets on this floor without anybody seeing you and tidy yourself up a bit – you can’t go back to your desk like this. And you can only hope to god nobody finds your discarded panties in there because Ashley would likely figure out how and why they got there. At least I still have my job. You think, even if you know it will never be the same now – you’ll never be able to look at Homelander, or any of his posters or action figures or T-shirts – without thinking about his hands on you, of him watching you strip with that hungry look on his face, ever again. Maybe it will fade in time, maybe not. Maybe Homelander has fucked half the people in the building on equally flimsy pretenses, or you could be the first time he’s indulged himself like this. He might forget all about you, or you could forever be known as ‘that mouthy assistant I fucked once’. You have no idea.

And that’s maybe the scariest thing of all – not knowing what comes next. ~ Meanwhile, Homelander stands in the meeting room, awaiting the rest of the Seven to enter. In his hand he toys with the now-ruined pair of underwear you’d had on earlier – you were so fucked out you hadn’t even him notice him swipe them off the floor. He’ll hang onto them as a…souvenir, if you will.

His superhearing picks up the sounds of the others approaching, and he turns, plastering on a smile as he approaches his desk. A tongue swipes across his bottom lip, a lingering taste of that sweet flavour – cinnamon or butterscotch, something that reminds him of dessert – only sealing your fate further.

After all, when you get a taste of something like that, why wouldn’t you go back for a second bite?