and a very strange face

Serious Squareness: an exclusive interview with Lorenzo Semple, Jr. on the creation of TV’s Batman

Holy unexpected delights! I opened my Tumblr inbox the other day to find a message from @jondambacher, and, well, let me just turn it over to him:

Screenwriter Lorenzo Semple, Jr. celebrates a birthday today (March 23rd). The following is an excerpt from a number of long interviews I was blessed, honored & ecstatic to conduct in 2008, for Lorenzo’s biography I was writing.

To the King of Serious Squareness, I celebrate you, I thank you, I wish you a Happy Happy Birthday.

Jon Dambacher: I have a quote from Dozier referring to you as “the most bizarre thinker I knew.”

Lorenzo Semple: Good.

JD: Have you ever read that?

LS: I think I have, now that you mention it.

JD: What do you think he means here?

LS: I don’t know what he means. He obviously meant it as a compliment but it’s… I don’t know what he meant. I just could think of off-the-wall things. When he showed me, as I’ve told you, when I was living in Spain writing plays with a family, he sent me a cable to come up and meet him at The Ritz in Madrid there in the garden of The Ritz, he had a very strange face, as he pulled out of his pocket a “Batman” comic book. Said, “Would you believe it, this is what ABC has given us to do, because they’d owed us one, can you believe it? He was… Was so disdainful of it. I, uh, in all honesty, I took one look at it and thought of it and said, "I know exactly what to do.” I’ll go home and I’ll write it.“ That was the only discussion about "Batman.” The only discussion. As I say I wrote it, Bill loved it, he gave it to ABC, they thought it was excellent, but they were dumbfounded by it because there was nothing like it. All those things like, “Pop!” and “Bam!” were all written into the script.

JD: That’s awesome! Did you guys just share some crazy sense of humor together–is that how you were able to create this amazing…

LS: Yeah! It’s not really that crazy once you get the note of it, you know what I mean?

JD: Okay.

LS: It’s all out of that same… That dead serious nonsense, you know what I mean? Adam was actually perfect for it and Burt in his way, too. You know, they’d be chasing somebody and Robin would say, “Park here, they just went into that building…”

JD: And there’s “No Parking” signs…

LS: “No Parking” sign, right! That kind of thing. All these come out of the same level of dead serious, squareness, if you want to call it that. Dead seriously square. That was… Which isn’t that bizarre compared to modern movies, you know, like Charlie Kaufman and things.

JD: Right.

LS: It wasn’t too bizarre. Bill probably thought it was bizarre but we’ve both recognized he was a sophisticated guy. He recognized it as being funny. He didn’t mind me thinking up all these things like Bat-Shark-Repellent or whatever it was when the shark had him by the leg…

JD: Right, the Shark-Repellent-Bat Spray.

LS: I guess you could call that bizarre thinking. To me it’s all a part of one type of thinking; do you know what I mean? Bizarre isn’t quite the word, I’d say imaginative.

JD: Okay. We were talking about favorite lines from that film specifically, one that’s stuck with me over the years–I’ve always wanted to meet the man who wrote the line, “Ah, a thought strikes me–so dreadful I scarcely dare give it utterance!”

(Lorenzo breaks out laughing.)

LS: That’s very funny, I agree! I agree! That’s the kind of thing we’ve been–you know, that pompous squareness actually. Very good hearted. Adam was a very sweet guy. A very nice guy himself and Batman, you know, nobody was killed in it and there’s nothing–except the name–in common with the Batman franchise, the Warner Brothers ones. The people who say, “What do you feel about those movies” always expect me to say something, I say, “Actually I don’t like violent movies particularly and I stay away from them.” The Batman I wrote has nothing to do with these movies–really has nothing to do with each other… My Batman is more in the spirit of the comic and the very fact that millionaire Bruce Wayne, that’s all you have to say… The fact that you refer to him as Millionaire Bruce Wayne, I mean…

JD: The Millionaire Philanthropist.

LS: The Millionaire–thank you! The Millionaire Philanthropist. I had forgotten that. Just the fact that you’d refer to anybody like that–if you’re sophisticated it shows immediately–it’s ironic at best.

JD: That squareness.

LS: You’re right. That’s what I mean. The squareness, exactly.

Coffee and Creamer

Author’s Note: FINALLY! Thank you for being patient. To the two cupcakes who requested a sequel to The Mistress and to the cupcake who requested a blow job fic, I hope you enjoy!


You’d woken up to the smell of coffee and the faint sunlight peeking through the curtains. You rolled over in bed, tangling yourself in the soft, silk sheets, and looked at the time. He had 08:00 meeting that morning and by the distant sound of his voice, you could tell he was already tired. You knew it wasn’t easy being a CEO and, now that you were dating one, you realized just how much he gave himself to his company.  

You groggily got up and made your way to the bathroom. Pushing your hair out of your way to wash your face and brush your teeth, you tried to make yourself look fresh faced. You slipped into his shirt from the night before and followed the sound of his voice to the living room.

He was sitting hunched over his laptop, his glasses sitting dangerously close to the edge of his nose as he glossed over the multitudes of papers on the table. The voices on the telecom were talking over each other, crunching numbers and organizing deadlines, in what seemed like an overwhelming chaos. Nonetheless, your boyfriend calmly listened, writing notes here and there and interjecting his comments intermittently.

His looked up at you and smiled. You smiled back and, careful to be quiet, walked over to kiss him on the lips.

“Good morning.” You mouthed silently to him.

“Morning” he mouthed back.

You took the empty coffee cup from the table and went into the kitchen. You knew he drank his coffee black, but you couldn’t quite get over the bitterness and opened the refrigerator for some milk. You stopped, staring down at the little bottle of hazelnut coffee creamer in the shelf.  You mentioned how much you liked that particular creamer once days ago and here it was. Even though you’d only been officially dating for a few weeks, he’d already ensured that you had everything you needed when you were over from a toothbrush to feminine hygiene products and now your favorite coffee creamer. You stopped smiling like an idiot and closed the refrigerator, but it reappeared as you poured the coffees and went back to the living room.

He saw you coming with the reinforcements and patted his lap welcomingly. You blushed, placing his mug on the table before seating yourself on his lap.

“You’re the best. I love you.” He said quietly. You were rewarded with a quiet kiss on your shoulder before he regained his professionalism and carried on with his work call.

Despite the fact that you’d been fucking for over a year, these past few weeks felt brand new. You’d exchange shy looks over dinner as if you hadn’t already seen his cum face millions of times before. Simple, lingering touches or cuddles still seemed awkward at first regardless of how many evenings you’d spent bouncing on his dick or sitting on his face. Even quick “I gotta go or I’ll be late” kisses still made your stomach flip. It was all very strange, but you were enjoying it.

You reached over, pulling his face towards yours and kissed him affectionately. His flustered smile made your heart swell. You motioned for him to go back to his call while you busied yourself with checking your own schedule on your phone. He hadn’t been sitting for five minutes before you felt the familiar bulge beneath you. You turned to your boyfriend, who had a cheeky smile on his face, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I can’t help it. You’re just so sexy.” He whispered back, his deep voice making goose bumps raise over your skin. He shifted under you, adjusting you between his legs with a groan. “Baby…” he said in a voice you knew all too well.  

“Remember that you’re on a work call.” You murmured as a heat began to ignite in your lower belly. “You should be paying attention.”

“We’re wrapping up anyway.” He said, trailing kisses up your shoulder to the weak spot on your neck. You moaned softly and felt him smile against your skin. He spoke in Korean towards his phone to which another voice answered back. Switching back to English, he turned to you.

“Show Daddy what that pretty mouth can do, hmm?” He knew what to say to you to make you weak. You knew you should leave him alone and let him work. You hesitated, wanting him to maintain his professionalism rather than succumb to his own neediness. The erection pressed against you warned that it was probably too late for that.

“And when you’re whining and moaning my name?” you asked as you stood up from him lap, turning towards him and kneeling down between his legs. “What would your executives think of their CEO then?” you inquired as you pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in just your panties. He didn’t answer, but the way the thin material of his pajama pants were tenting gave him away. His tongue glided over his lips cautiously as you pulled the edge of his bottoms down and took him in your hand. You kissed the head of his cock lightly, teasing him with feather light touches. You lazily licked at the shaft of his cock, focusing on coating him with your saliva rather than getting him off. You looked up at him, enjoying the strained look on his face. To your surprise, he was maintaining his professionalism quite well. You intended to change that. You pushed his knees further apart, raking your nails along his inner thighs. He sucked in a breath of air, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.  You gripped his dick and spit on it, using the flick of your wrist to erase any friction as you began to pump him.

“F-f-f-fuck.” He groaned quietly, sliding forward in the chair.

“I haven’t even done anything yet baby.” You teased, placing a kiss to his inner thigh. You playfully bit down on the place you’d just kissed, producing a surprised, throaty moan.

“Mmm, don’t do that sweetheart.” He warned, although it carried almost no threat judging by the way his eyes were glazing over.

“But I like the way it makes your cock twitch in my hand.” You said provocatively. His hand came down to caress your jawline as an airy smile played on his lips.

“I’ll cum too quick if you keep doing that.” he said.

You smirked and slowly took the head of his cock in your mouth. Swirling your tongue over his slit while gently sucking on the tip of him, you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. Even at such an erotic moment, you wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to show him how much you cared about him. You began doing what you knew he liked, pleasuring him as best you could. His breathing turned ragged as he tried to keep quiet.

His booming voice, loud and clear, startled you. He said a few things into his phone while slamming his laptop closed. You’d already forgotten that he was on a conference call, the sound of his executives had become background noise long ago. He said a few more hurried words then pressed the end call button on his phone repeatedly before tossing it across the room and onto the sofa. You would have giggled if not for the lustful, almost carnal, look in his eyes. He reached down for you, grabbing you by the sides of your face and kissed you intensely. You moaned into the kiss as his fingers moved down, gently squeezing around your throat. Just as quickly, he pulled away from you, his teeth pulling at your bottom lip. You let out a small whimper at the loss of contact.

“Baby.” He said breathily. You looked up at him through your eyelashes. He looked gorgeous with his blown pupils and swollen lips. “Take your panties off.” He groaned, “I want you to play with that pussy while you suck my cock.” His words had you soaking through your panties almost instantly. You obeyed, stopping long enough to step out of your panties and kick them aside before squatting back down. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock again, bobbing your head up and down in a steady rhythm. With newfound fervor, you pleasured him with your mouth while taking your free hand and gingerly touching yourself. You were surprisingly sensitive. Turning him on turned you on. You slowly circled your clit, moaned around his dick at the feeling. He moved his hand to your hair, gathering it up into a pony tail.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby.” He moaned. You relaxed your jaw, taking as much of him as you could. You could feel his hips jerking and knew he was close. You bobbed your head in time with his thrusts, moaning and drooling down his cock until his hips stilled and ropes of hot cum coated your throat. You swallowed around him, causing him to shriek out in pleasure and pain. You leaned back, still dazed, and admired how fucked out he looked.

“Come here.” He said. You stood up and leaned into him, bringing your lips to his hungrily. He kissed your back, tasting himself on your lips. His hands snaked around your thighs, his hands cupping your ass and hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively while kissing along his jawline and nipping at his neck. He plopped you down on the table (on top of all his paperwork). He kissed your lips, trailed down to your décolleté, sucking lightly on the skin above your collarbone and down to your breast. Wrapping one of your peaked nipples in his mouth and pinching the other, you threw your head back at the sharp but pleasant feeling. He switched, giving each nipple equal parts of pleasure and pain.

“Babe…” you moaned, trying to urge him to go lower.

“Lean back baby.” He pressed gently. You lay back on the table. “I want your legs up.” He said, pushing your legs up towards your face. You grabbed your calves and held your legs in place for him. “That’s it, baby girl. Just like that.” You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips on your thighs. He bit down, almost exactly where you’d bitten him earlier, and playfully sucked on the soft skin while he massaged your opposite thigh. As good as this felt, you needed him in another place.  

“Baby…” you squirmed. He smiled darkly as he seated himself between your legs.

“You’re so wet for me.” he groaned. He carefully outlined your pussy. His faint touches made you squirm, tickling and tantalizing all at once. He smirked, fully aware of the affect he had, and continued to tease you for what seemed like hours.

“You are so rude!” you yelled out in frustration. He giggled childishly, his face shinning with mischievous joy.

“You like when I play with your pretty pussy, don’t you?” he asked as he began to rub circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb, making you jerk in pleasure. All of his teasing had made your clit hypersensitive.

“Yes, but please…” you urged, trying to relieve some of the pressure building. The more you moved towards him, eager to feel him, the more he pulled away.

“Please what? Tell Daddy what you want.” He teased, punishing you by firmly spanking your clit, sending satisfying shocks up your body. You yelped out, arching your back towards him.

“Fuck me, please.” You moaned out in frustration.

“Hmmm, no…not yet.” He said, “I want you to cum on my tongue first.” You almost screamed when his warm tongue finally brushed over your clit. He circled over your clit before running his tongue up and down your pussy and stopping at your clit again. “You taste so good, so sweet.” He praised, lapping noisily at the arousal pooling at your entrance. You were weak for his praise. You moaned loudly with each trace of his tongue, each lick, each bite. You weren’t going to last very long, every touch bringing you closer and closer to your climax. He flattened his tongue on your clit and shook his head quickly, making your whole body contract.

“Spread your legs.” He said looking up at you, his tone gentle yet firm. You weakly complied, if only enough to keep from suffocating him. He returned to his work, his tongue gliding across your pussy with ease. He didn’t let up, applying the perfect amount of pressure and sloppily making out with your clit. You reached out for his shoulders as your moans turned into screams.

“Don’t stop! You’re gonna make me cum!” you warned. He gripped your thighs tightly as he brought you crashing into a mind blowing orgasm. He guided you through a second orgasm, his tongue never leaving your clit until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

He sat back in the chair and licked his lips. You looked over at him, his mouth slick with your juices. He winked at you as he wiped his mouth with the back on his hand.

“That was so fucking sexy, baby.” He said. He stood up and pushed the chair out of his way. Grabbing your legs, he pulled you to the edge of the table. You watched as he pumped himself in his hand before positioning himself between your legs. You bit your lip in anticipation, but instead of fucking you senseless he began tracing the tip of his cock against your labia with a look of concentration.

“Don’t fucking tease me, please!” you mewled. He groaned deeply, the guttural sound making you wetter (if that was at all possible).

“Really baby?” He taunted as he wiggled his cock against your clit. “After all those times you would tie me up and leave me begging for you to touch me? Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little overstimulation.” Any other time, you would have wiped that smug look off his pretty face, but right now he deserved to gloat. Your pussy was throbbing so hard you thought you’d cum a third time if the wind blew on it.

“Please baby, please just fuck m – OH FUCK” you moaned out in unison as he entered you, the mixture of your slickness and his pre cum allowing him to fill you effortlessly. His grip on your thighs would no doubt leave a bruise, but neither of you cared at the moment. He pulled out completely before slamming back into you, the loud sound of skin on skin and your mutual moans filling the room. He fucked you in earnest, giving you everything he had left in him. You held onto whatever your hands could reach, your eyes rolling in the back of your head in pleasure as his thrusts became jerkier.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He huffed in between ragged breaths. You nodded, words escaping you in favor of moans. “Rub your clit for me, baby.” He said huskily, sweat beginning to pour down his face and onto your stomach.

“B-but, it’s too sensitive.” You squealed. Hearing you disobey, he looked at you with a frown and reached up and grabbed your cheeks gently, tilting your head back.

“Right now.” He ordered, placing a kiss on your lips. Despite the gentleness in his voice, there was a dark dominance behind it that you didn’t dare disobey. You did as you were told, moaning as your body jerked at the sensation. Your orgasm hit you by surprise, making your body convulse in ecstasy.  His (whiny) orgasm was seconds later, your contracting walls milking his orgasm out of him.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty body weight comforting you in the aftermath. While you both regained your breaths, he began peppering your face with kisses, stopping frequently to savor the taste of your lips while his fingers gently rubbed soothing circles into your hips. All of his dominance was now replaced with sweetness and gentleness. You held onto him tightly, feeling a fresh wave of affection for him. You could feel his heart beat pounding in his chest. It was calming.

“I love you” he said. You kissed him again, smiling up at him when he pulled away for air.

“I love you too.”

Uncharted Waters | R.M.

PAIRING: [Reggie Mantle x River Vixen!Reader]


Like just about any other problem that happened over the summer, yours was an extremely shallow issue compared to what happened to Jason Blossom on the fourth of July. The closest person you might have possibly heard the story about the star quarterback came from an unlikely source—from the arrogant douche himself, Reggie Mantle.

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anonymous asked:

what if t'challa is rhodey's classmate/lab partner at mit and he likes the guy but he's so sick of listening to him brag about his little brother-from-another-mother until he mEETS HIM AND THEN HIS HEART CLENCHES and he's like "how do i woo this bby genius without getting mauled by his overprotective brother/bff"

This work can also be found on my Ao3 here. I deviated from the prompt a little, methinks. Also Tony’s nineteen in this and getting his second PhD if that helps. Watch out for under the cut!


“—And then Tony accidentally set it on fire,” Jim explained, showing a worrying lack of concern by grinning like the engineer he truly was.

“So then you had to start over,” T’Challa said.

Jim tilted his head. “Well, we’d documented everything up to that point so not really? I mean yeah we had to rebuild the model but to be honest it was probably better we find out the fire-hazard before we presented in class.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s whatever—” Jim checked his watch and yelped. “Ah! I was supposed to meet him for lunch, did you wanna come?”

T’Challa watched Jim scramble to get his books packed up. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to try and get a vegetable in him today, so Chinese.”

“I will pass.”

Jim shrugged. “Your loss. See you in Calculus.”

T’Challa watched him go. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Jim either complained about homework or bitched about how Tony had tested out of the class and how he wished he had too.

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What if since meeting your soulmate is the best thing to happen to you, they get teleported to the site of the worst thing that’s happened to you?

or: my take on this AU by @shitty-check-please-aus


Jack skates through the crowd of his teammates who are currently mobbing the small blonde freshman who brought pie of all things into his practice.  He’s kind of intending to ask the kid what the hell he thinks he’s doing feeding these guys before they have to go run drills, anyway.  Like seriously, does he want a rink full of projectile-vomiting jocks?  Cuz that’s an ugly scene that he does not want to explain to the ice crew.  But he’s the captain, and so when guys on his team act like morons, Jack is always the one who has to go apologize on behalf of the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team.

He’s more than ready to lay into the new guy, but when the crowd parts, and new guy looks up, he smiles this nervous little smile and says,

“Hi!  I’m Eric -” and then everything goes black.  


Coach Bittle got into the habit of always checking the janitor’s closet on his way out of the building every night.  After what happened to Junior, he ended up just sort of gravitating there.  The first time he’d had the urge to check inside, he’d ignored it and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, imagining a tiny freshman, plopped on a bucket and crying their eyes out.  When the custodian showed up at 5, Coach was already waiting in his truck with a cup of coffee.  Now he just gives in.  Figures that as far as compulsive, guilty urges go, it’s not that bad.  Only takes him another minute out of his way, and now he goes home and sleeps like a baby.

Luckily, depite making it part of his nightly routine for the past few years, nobody’s actually been locked in there.  Well.  Locked in.  There were certainly a few encounters he interrupted.  Those times he was delayed more than a minute having to make uncomfortable phone calls to parents.  

The first and only time that Coach Bittle rescues someone from the janitor’s closet is actually not even during the school year, and he isn’t actually checking for anyone.  He’d just come in to do some paperwork for preseason and spilled coffee on his desk, and when he goes to get the actually absorbent paper towels from the closet, he finds a very large, very confused man in full hockey gear.

“AHHHH!” They both scream and jolt back, Coach stumbling and catching himself on the drinking foundtain, the large hockey man, being not so lucky and still wearing skates, sits in a mop bucket.  His only solace seems to be that it’s currently empty.

“What in the sam hell!?” Coach yells, regaining his footing.  Hockey man flinches and his eyes dart around like a cornered racoon.

“Where am I?” he chokes out.  “What’s - what’s going on?”  He looks up and meets Coach’s eyes.  Coach looks down at hockey man’s jersey.  Samwell Men’s Hockey.  And he is not a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination, so it takes only a few stunned seconds to realize that this must me Junior’s soulmate.  Why else would one of his teammates have been catapulted down to Georgia?

“You’re in Madison, Georgia, son.  Looks like you just met your soulmate.”

“My - but I - I was at practice?”  Hockey man looks up at him, and from way down there, looking so goddamn confused, he finally looks young enough to be playing with Dicky’s team.

“And now you’re here.  So what does that tell you?”  Coach raises an eyebrow.

“That…I…met my soulmate?”

“Sounds about right.  Also sounds like you probably need to be getting on your way back, don’t it?”

“Um, yes.  That would be.  I should.  Um.  Go.”

“Might want to start with taking off the skates first.”

“Oh, I.  Yes.”  Hockey man awkwardly lifts his legs one by one and scrunches up to untie his laces.  Coach helps him pull the skates off, and then offers a hand up out of the bucket.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No trouble.”

“Jack Zimmermann,” he introduces himself and holds his hand out to shake.  “Nice to meet you.”

“Eric Bittle Senior,” Coach tells him, trying not to feel a little pleased when the boy’s face goes pale in recognition.  “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back where y’all belong.”

“But I - That’s Massachusetts.”

“I know what I said.  Hussle, you’ve got another practice tomorrow mornin’ I bet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then we oughtta hope traffic’s on our side.”


Meanwhile, Bob Zimmermann nearly cuts his ear off shaving when he hears a loud thump followed by a sqeuak behind him.  He turns to find a strange young man in a Samwell Men’s Hockey jersey sprawled across his bathroom floor, clutching a pecan pie to his chest.

“Chrisse!” He yells, razor clattering to the sink.  He manages to catch his towel before it falls, luckily, but his yelling seems to have startled the poor kid even more.  He’s shaking a little as he sets the pie down gently and sits up. The blades of his skates clink against the tile.

“I - Um - Oh dear, I am so sorry!  I don’t - I don’t know what happened!  I was at practice and then - I mean - I’ll just be going.”

“Non!”  Bob rushes to assure the boy it’s fine, but when he steps forward, it startles him all over again.  Clearing his throat, Bob steps back and switches to English.  “I mean, there’s no need to apologize.  I know why you’re here, I just - wasn’t expecting you at this particular moment.”

“You…were expecting me?”

“Well…not you exactly, but…the…concept? of you?  Jack’s soulmate.  We - His mother and I, we knew when he met them, they would show up here.”

“Oh…I…guess that makes sense?”

“I’m sorry we had to meet like this.  I feel terribly underdressed.”  The boy stares at him blankly until Bob cracks a smile.  Then, he breaks out into loud pleals of laughter.  His eyes are a warm brown and crinkle at the corners, his nose scrunches.  He looks like such a happy person.  Maybe happy enough that some of it will rub off on Jack.

Hockey boy stands up and shakes the hand that isn’t holding Bob’s towel up.  “Eric Bittle, pleasure to meet you.”

“Bob Zimmermann, nice to meet you too.”  Another good (although strange, very strange) sign: there isn’t a trace of recognition in the boy’s face at hearing the name “Bob Zimmermann”.  Of course Jack’s soulmate would be the only hockey player alive who had no clue who the fuck his father is.  

Eric hobbles out of the bathroom and sits against the wall in the hallway to take his skates off before making his way downstairs to the kitchen where Bob had said his wife Alicia was probably hanging out.  Sure enough, when he found the (gorgeous.  stunning.  drool-worthy.) kitchen, there was a  tall, blonde woman sitting cross-legged on one of the barstools, a cup of coffee in one hand and the other propping open a book.

“Hello,” he announces himself quietly.  She’s still startled, though not nearly as much as her husband had been.  When she turns and gets a look at him, she puts the coffee down and lets the pages of the book flop freely, unfolding herself from the seat.

“Hello.  You must be…”

“Eric.  Eric Bittle.”

“Right.  And -”

“Jack’s soulmate.  Yes ma’am, it would seem so.”  He smiles timidly, and is most definitely not expecting to be enveloped in a hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Zimmermann.”

“Well,” Alicia steps back and puts her hands on her hips, regarding Eric with a motherly smile.  “Can I get you a cup of coffee while we wait for Bob?”


Jack and Coach switch drivers every state.  Coach insists that each time, they take a photo in front of the Welcome sign.  Jack snaps a few pictures on his phone when he’s in the passenger seat.  When it’s his turn to drive, he tries to educate Coach on the finer points of hockey and the top NCAA teams, and Coach in turn tries to explain how the hell football works.


The Zimmermanns put Eric on a plane back to Massachusetts that night with his hockey gear stuffed in a duffel and wearing the least obviously early 2000s clothes they could find in Jack’s old dresser.  

“We wish we could go with you,” Alicia tells him, seeming genuinely sad to be sending him off alone.

“But Jack probably wouldn’t appreciate…intruding.  He likes to keep his life at school seperate from his life back home, you know?”  

“Of course, don’t worry a bit.  It was so nice meeting y’all.”


When the airport shuttle leaves Eric in front of his dorm, he’s exhausted from the trip and starting to stress out about seeing Jack.  His soulmate.  Who he’d barely seen in the first place, only a quick impression of tall and eyes before he’d been wormholed to Montreal.  He thinks he has to be seeing things when he first catches sight of his father’s old blue truck pulled up against the curb.  

He shakes himself and starts for the building, but from behind him, Coach’s voice calls,

“Dicky!  Er- Eric!”  Eric’s head spins a little with how fast he turns around.  Because there’s no way.  His dad hadn’t been able to get away from preseason long enough to drive Eric up to school in the first place.  There’s no way he’s - But the there’s Jack, sliding out of the passenger seat.  Because Coach had driven him.  All the way from Georgia.  Because he’s Eric’s soulmate.  Coach is hand-delivering the love of Eric’s life and he just…cannot with this day anymore.

So he focuses on the one tiny part that he can wrap his travel-weary brain around.  He walks up to Jack, who’s watching him raptly, eyes darting everywhere like he’s trying to make sure he memorizes everything before he disappears again, and says,

“I don’t think we managed to introduce ourselves properly last time.”

Jack laughs.

6

 Rae Sloane and Gallius Rax: alternative history/fantasy AU

The Emperor is dead, and the remnants of his former Empire are 
in retreat.
As the New Republic fights to restore a lasting peace, some dare
to imagine new beginnings and new destinies.

A Very Imperial Valentines Week - Day 4 - Uniform Swap:
Reinterpreted the prompt to mean ‘swap them both with another time period’. Inspired a lot by Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, which would lend itself beautifully to Star Wars AUs (and also to the dynamic of these two imperials):

“I have been quite put out of temper this morning and someone ought to die for it.”

[003] Hanyu, Y.

I swear, that darn 4CC gold just keeps eluding me!!! How is it possible that I somehow managed to reel in the one from the flippin’ Games but not this…?

Yuzuru HANYU, speaking to whoever’s listening at the leading scorers area @4cc 2017 (Shoma, probably…but just as likely was talking to himself like the raving lunatic that he’s capable of being)

Kampos -- Part Two

Second installment of A Thing I’m Writing For @reioka. Gettin into the story guys. Sorry for the cliffhanger (not) also, don’t know when I’m going to be able to update next, because I just started my first job and it’s long hours and takes a lot out of me. I’ll try though!!! 

Part One


It quickly became clear that Steve and Bucky hadn’t really thought this out well. With Pepper tutting in the background they fretted, worrying over the hows and wheres of exactly what they were going to do with Tony. Hill wasn’t happy; Tony didn’t like her, and was very much cowering behind Bucky’s sheepish legs.

“Which idiot broke the tank?” Steve elbowed Bucky, who scowled.

“He’s better out here.” Hill pinched the bridge of her nose.

“He’s an ocean animal. For all you knew he couldn’t breathe air!” Bucky grumbled but had the tact to look properly apologetic and chastised. “How are you planning on moving him? Where are you planning to put him? You do realize seahorses aren’t freshwater animals, right?”

“You could let me go?” Tony tried weakly, his tail curling reflexively.

A gasped “My God” cut off whatever reply he would’ve gotten as a new human entered the room. This one had swirly, driftwood colored hair and bubbles floating in front of his eyes. “When I heard Zola ranting to those soldiers I thought he had finally gone crazy.” The human was staring and Tony didn’t really like that, although he thought he could take the human if it came down to it. The plates of his tail clicked as he curled and uncurled it, reminding himself to use his nose and not his gills. “Look at him. Amazing! And he’s intelligent.”

“He talks,” Pepper said proudly, as if she were the one who taught him human speech.

“I talk,” he echoed weakly, tired of being spoken about like he wasn’t there, curling his tail around Steve’s leg when he stepped too close. Steve grimaced but didn’t move away, smiling shyly down at Tony to encourage the closeness. The driftwood-haired human lit up, rushing forward and kneeling next to Tony, holding out his hand. This was one of those strange human habits that Tony didn’t know how to react to – they all stuck their hands in his face, like they expected him to do something with it. He stared at it, puzzled, before leaning up and nuzzling his cheek against it in affection and greeting, as he would with Natasha or Clint. The humans all got a very strange look on their faces, like they had eaten a jellyfish and it was floating around in their tummies. The driftwood-haired human withdrew his hand, his face blooming.

“I’m Bruce Banner. I’m going to help get you situated and then we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

“You won’t send me home.” It was more weakness than words, and more statement than question. He was ignored, Steve and Bucky glancing at each other uncomfortably.

“I have a tank” Bruce Banner was saying to Hill, rubbing his bubbles on his shirt, somehow without popping them.

“You mean the one you created that slime monster in?” Hill deadpanned.  

“Maybe,” Bruce answered. “We just need to fill it with water and treat it.”

“How much is this treatment going to cost?”

“A lot.”


The tank was large, so large that Tony could’ve let salt escape after being stuck in the prison for so long, but it was still not as nice as the ocean would’ve been. It took Bruce Banner a long time to get it filled. Steve and Bucky, with a very real worry about Tony drying out, took to pouring buckets of water over him. It was fresh water, but it was kind, and Tony wouldn’t die from it like a real seahorse would (at least not immediately), so it was fine.

Most of these SHIELD humans were kind to him. Actually, most of the SHIELD humans avoided or ignored him, which was very nice. Bucky, Steve, Pepper, and Bruce Banner were nice though – he wasn’t yet sure about Hill. Especially because he thought a hill was a mound of something which humans liked to climb, and human Hill was certainly not that.

The water in the tank was perfect, and he gasped in surprise as Bucky and Steve lowered him in. It felt good rushing past his gills, and he actually did leak salt, looking at the humans through the glass (and this glass didn’t distort his vision! How amazing humans were!). He beamed at Bruce Banner, who bloomed and rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his hair down.

“I did some research,” Tony heard him say faintly through the glass and water, and smiled brighter, turning to explore his new (hopefully temporary) home.

His dorsal fin beating, he uncurled out his tail, relishing in the feeling of being able to stretch out and the absence of the heavy weight that came over his body in the air with the humans. He stretched his tail, curling it around one of the fake plants someone had kindly anchored to the bottom of the tank for him underneath the sand, finally feeling safe, and popped his head above the water so he could speak with the humans.

“Thank you Bruce Banner!” he chirped.


The humans wanted to look at him.

He didn’t really want the humans to look at him, because last time humans had ‘looked at’ him it had hurt a lot and they hadn’t done much looking, more prodding. So he told them that his gills hurt and he wanted to be in the water for a few days, surprised when they agreed. They were also as appalled (read: disgusted) as he was that the other humans had fed him dead food instead of live, and graciously provided him with live food to catch and enjoy.

And after they were so kind to him, he had to let them look at him, didn’t he?

Bruce Banner was the one doing the looking. He was surprisingly gentle, explaining everything he did. Bucky and Steve stood by with him, and Tony felt safer, even though he liked Bruce Banner a lot, especially when Bruce Banner brought out the needle because he wanted to take a liquid called blood out of Tony’s body. They all promised that it wouldn’t hurt him and he could live without a little bit of it, because Bruce Banner wouldn’t take it all, so he agreed, but he forced Bucky to hold his hand while the sharp metal went into his arm. Steve stood at his tail, letting him curl around his arm in anxiety, and Tony was grateful for that as well, because it made him feel more safe. When he had his tail around something, the currents couldn’t blow him away, so it was always safer.

It didn’t hurt, and Bruce Banner really did take only a little (Tony had seen more body liquid – blood – in some fish he had eaten), and Tony decided he really liked these humans. His herd was gone anyway (don’t think about it, don’t think about it), so he might as well stay here.

It was awkward when Bruce Banner wanted to see his pouch. There wasn’t much to see, and only his mate was supposed to touch there, but the humans were still being nice to him and he still had his tail wrapped around Steve’s arm even though Steve was making a face now (Bucky kept telling him to breathe) so he let Bruce Banner look, ‘palpitating’ (he guessed it meant gently pressing, from what was happening) his belly where his plates met his skin, and then lower where his pouch was. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable – he couldn’t really feel it – but he didn’t really know what Bruce Banner was looking for either. It was the same pouch as any other seahorse, nothing really special about it, but Bruce Banner was fascinated with it.

Later Bucky was going to let him try something called chocolate when Bruce Banner walked up, looking perplexed.

“Tony, you know you’re producing pregnancy hormones, right?”


Part Three ~~ Part Four

I have a lot to say about Supergirl Season 2 apparently! It’s probably going to end up being around 20 minutes long and I am both incredibly anxious and excited to piece it all together. I’m almost finished with the initial edit and then comes the fun task of adding in all the scenes, pictures and other fun things I mention in the video - so expect the Supercorp bridal style carry in all it’s beautiful glory.

As a fair warning if you like Mon-El and/or Karamel don’t watch it, I spend a while dragging him and the relationship to pieces.

^ this is one of the many faces I make when talking about him. Anyway back to editing!

anonymous asked:

Do you have any SKK fic recommendations?

Boy do I? Do I? Of course I do.

Completed:
¬ All in the Night’s Work by ultramarcypan ; Mature
“When Chuuya heads in to service his customers for the evening, Dazai is not who he’s expecting to see.”
(Courtesean Chuuya, need I say more?)

¬ Days of our lives by setosdarkness
“You don’t have to sound so happy, it’s an insult.”
“…you called me your boyfriend.”
“It’s an insult. See this? This is a goddamn wedding ring. We’re already wed. Calling you my boyfriend is supposed to be an insult.”
(Chuuya + Agency, fluff, more fluff and more more fluff)

¬ Beyond All Logic by setosdarkness
“Like most things that involve them, it’s easy to explain the fact that they just can’t let each other go.”
(Agency!Chuuya ; Mafia Boss!Dazai, so many feels, too many angst)

¬ This Beautifully Cruel World by setosdarkness
“Dazai becomes the Boss of the Port Mafia. Chuuya tries to stop Dazai from ruining the organization, Yokohama, everyone. Most importantly, Chuuya tries to stop Dazai from destroying himself.“
(Mafia Boss!Dazai, this is like Dazai being a version of Light Yagami)

¬ Intoxicated by setosdarkness (like bruh, setosdarkness is my queen and my fav skk writer, i worship what she writes; fluff, this is too funny, i swear; porn with feelings, apparently)
“Chuuya getting into fights (and winning, somehow) is nothing new.”

¬ Not Safe for Work by Insomnia_Productions
“In which Dazai doesn’t come to work, and Kunikida and Atsushi go to his place to drag him to the Agency and faced with a very strange surprise.”
(fluff + Chuuya interactions with the ADA + skk wedding, too much fluff i swear)

¬ On the contrary, you’re happy by succocku
“Chuuya never changed apartments, Chuuya never changed numbers, Chuuya never changed at all.“
(one of the most read fic in my library; 897 words of dazai’s thoughts and pain :))) i love pain)

¬ Take Me With You by doubleblacked
“I’m home.”

The door of their shared apartment clicks a soft thud as eager footsteps hurry themselves towards Chuuya. Before he can even respond with a “welcome home”, Dazai’s hand had already sneaked around his petite waist; and somehow, this feels like home. Dazai’s voice sounds like home. Everything about Dazai is Chuuya’s home.An hour later, Chuuya finds out that when Dazai said he’s home, he really isn’t.
(pain pain pain :))), those damn ‘ps’ killed me, dazai stops being a dummy)

¬ Truth to be told, I was never yours by doubleblacked
“People might say you deserve better.
But no one would understand.
That you don’t want someone better.
What you want, is Dazai Osamu. “
(pain, pain, even more pain, i’m a sucker for second person’s point of view)

¬ 1893 by mountainlaurels
“5 times Dazai and Chuuya run into each other and one time Dazai decides to stop running.”
(I love 5+1; quiet angst)

¬ Lost in Translation by Lwin
“In which Dazai travels to France to handle a little business of the Port Mafia and meets their operative there. Of course, Dazai pisses him right off the bat.”
(!!! Fucking hilarious. French!Chuuya + nsfw ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

¬ Noir by Adargo
“In the past, he never truly understood that darkness growing behind Dazai’s eyes. Yet lately, Chuuya thinks, when he stares back into the black of his own, encircled by those pale-blue skies. He’s starting to catch glimpses of it .”
(angst!!! 💯💯 i swear this fic killed me; too damn good)

¬ One plus one by peppersnot
“The last time you said something like that you left. So, I won’t fall for that kind of thing again.”
(fluff; bless this!)

¬ Disqualified as a Human Being by fleetingspark
“Dazai comes back home to Chuuya after a long time.”
(angst, angst, angst, NHL, angst, i love this, ok!!!)

¬ Born Back Ceaselessly into the Past by protectginozasquad
“Pasts are like ghost, but far more permanent.”
(angst :))) hilarious, angst, 💯💯)

¬ Yesterday’s News is tomorrows chip paper by yaoyue
“In which Dazai and Chuuya are advice columnists for rival newspaper agencies and have far too much fun writing their columns.”
(hilarious as fck, idk how they should trust these two, fluff)

¬ 11 Things Chuuya does when he’s drunk by peppersnot
“He causes a scene that Hirotsu kind of wants to record, just for the sake of reminding himself that he should never invite Chuuya-san out for drinks again, and maybe also because it’s kind of amusing to watch.”
(the title says it all, waaaay too damn funny, god bless hirotsu and tachihara)

¬ after the war (we were free) by Insomnia_Productions
“The one in which Dazai and Chuuya rekindle their friendship after the war, and no, Ranpo, that’s not "friendship” with quotations, they’re both straight, dammit, who asked you?”
(no dialogue but still hilarious af, too cute ok)

¬ Consigned to Oblivion by ShesAParadox
“What is your name?”
“Nakahara Chuuya.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“I’m in the Port Mafia obviously, I’m a member here.”
“Do you work with a partner?”
“No.”
“Do you remember ever having a partner?”
“No, I can’t remember ever having a partner.”
(dazai suffering!!! memory loss)

¬ Find Something Worth Dying for (and Learn How to Live) by Kibasix
“The boy was scared. This was nothing new. The boy cannot remember the last time he slept soundly without fear; the last time he felt love and affection; the last time he smelt clean air or felt the sun on his face. But this…this was a different kind of fear. The kind of fear that had the boy’s blood running cold. The kind of fear that had his breath wheezing from his lungs in panicked
pants. This was fear for his life. His legs are aching, they feel like they are about to collapse with exertion and yet he pushes on, willing himself to be faster as he flees through the dirty alleyways, zig-zagging this way and that with no comprehension of where he’s going. This city is entirely new to him and he is flying blind. The footsteps behind him are drawing ever closer. The boy doesn’t dare to look behind him, for fear of what he knows is looming in the darkness: the large hulking shapes, the glint of sharpened steel, the putrid scent of death. ”
(angst, 💯💯 best, one of my faves, one of the fics that caused me too much pain)

Incomplete:
¬ Camellias in Full bloom by setosdarkness
(hanahaki!!! angst at the moment, this is too good to pass up idc if it’s on-going)

¬ Your love burns against my skin by setosdarkness
(angst, soulhate and soulmate au, chuffering bc i’m masochistic, one of my favorites!!!)

¬ Retrace by Kuronoa
(angst, angst, fuck you kura, angst :))) chuuya getting killed over and over again, oh, did i mention angst??? :))))

And Then Comes Baby In a Baby Carriage. (Part 2/2)

Pairings: Dean x Reader (Series Rewrite Setting)
Word Count: 12,041. 
Summery: You learn you’re pregnant with Dean Winchester’s baby. While the news is exciting, the months leading to your due date are anything but smooth for an expecting hunter. (Full description below.)
Warnings: Spoilers for season twelve! (Takes place during the timeline of “There’s Something about Mary” and “Who We Are.”) Mentions of child birth, threats against the reader, canon violence and death.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Originally posted by winchesterangstclub

Nobody asked for this…but I decided to write a second part to a little story that I wrote about over a month ago. (I wanted this up at Father’s Day and I should be working on my current episode rewrite and not this. But oops.) This also kind of goes as a season twelve finale rewrite. I had a bit of inspiration from this particular scene for the plot. I had an extreme amount of fun writing this, but it does contain a lot of spoilers, I’m afraid. And if pregnant type of stories aren’t your cup of tea, oh well. I hope you guys enjoy this! (I really did…and it comes with a very happy ending. ^_^)

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Miss Something - Request

Requested by @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester:  Dean x reader have been married for years, she gets pregnant but he doesn’t want it. She leaves but never moves on. He ends up in another relationship and about to marry her. At the altar he decides he needs to be with reader and their child.
& Anon:  Part three to “Miss Everything- Miss nothing” where Dean bonds some more with his daughter but mostly of his relationship with the reader becoming even stronger?
& @captain-morgans-bitch:  Please continue and make a series out of this
& A bunch of people voting for it in the past two Sequel Fridays.

Summary: After apologizing and meeting his daughter, Dean is willing to get back to her life for once and for all. He wants everything back, including (Y/N) who is still reluctant about his comeback.

Pairing: Dean x reader.

Word count: 3,755

Warnings: None.

A/N: I wanted to focus more on Samstiel with Louise, but also daddy!Dean and his relationship with reader (if that makes any sense at all). Happy Sequel Friday!

Enjoy!

| Miss Everything (1) | Miss Nothing (2) |

Dean followed the deal like an obedient man. He called Louise every day after school – or at least after eating something because they would spend hours talking and Louise would forget to eat – and then he called (Y/N) to have dinner on Saturday.

Sam and Castiel weren’t only cheerful, and proud of Dean finally manning up and trying to make things better, but they were also far too excited to meet the little Winchester.

They would have dinner together at (Y/N) and Louise’s house that day. Sam made sure to buy pie and wine, while Castiel spent his whole morning collecting flowers at the nearest park – because Sam told him it was polite to go to a home with a present for the owner – and Dean made sure to buy Louise a colouring book and (Y/N)’s favourite sweets.

The three men arrived punctual to the appointment and Sam was impressed to notice how (Y/N) still looked the same. She was at the kitchen, checking the oven, when they arrived and so she didn’t notice. However, Louise had heard Baby’s roar and she stormed out of the house, excitedly.

“There’s my chipmunk.” Dean spoke proudly as he turned Baby off.

“She looks just like mom.” Sam commented.

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Falling For You

As most of my Heathers stories are, this is based off of that ask a long time ago about the tree. I’m not satisfied with the ending, but whatever. Is the spacing better on this one? I tried to make it better, but idk. Also, I kind of made Ronnie a tiny bit better at flirting here, because I love flustered Heathers. Thanks!

————————————————————————————

“Ready? Okay! Hey oh, Westerburg! Tell me, what’s that sound? Here comes Westerburg, coming to put you in the ground! Hey oh, Westerburg! Give a great big yell! Westerburg will knock you out and send you straight to-“ her cheer was cut off by a sudden scream coupled with the sound of a branch snapping. 

Mac glanced around nervously for a moment, extremely confused, but she quickly got the answer to her unasked question. From above, she could see a girl falling for about 0.3 seconds before the girl fell right into Mac’s outstretched arms.

Mac blinked, still not quite comprehending that a person had just fallen into her arms. She took a moment to ponder the strange girl. She had a very symmetrical face, with wonderful blue eyes. She was wearing a denim jacket and skirt, along with the single most hideous scarf Mac had ever seen in her life. 

She was absolutely beautiful.

Mac felt her face growing warm as the stranger blinked, whipping her head around to stare at her surroundings and try to understand her situation. Even her hair was nice, frizzy in a charming way that made Mac’s heart flutter like it normally only did with Heather Chandler and Heather Duke. The mysterious girl looked up, staring at Mac. There was silence for a moment, and Mac barely noticed Chandler and Duke running toward them in alarm. 

Suddenly the girl grinned, laughing, and Mac only had a moment to ponder how beautiful that laugh was when the girl said, “Thanks for catching me. Guess I really fell for ya, huh?” Mac blushed infinitely harder, feeling like she would either melt into a puddle or collapse on the spot. Fuck. She was smooth. Also a total hipster nerd, but whatever. She only sort of registered her girlfriends running up to the two of them. “Heather, who the hell is this?” Chandler snapped, her tone sounding an odd mix of annoyed and concerned. 

She hardly seemed to notice the girl she was holding bridal style- she should really put her down soon, -but Duke certainly did. The green clad girl was staring at the stranger with an unreadable expression. Wait… Mac recognized that look. Duke, too, was blushing. Mac felt both relieved at not being alone in her strange attraction to the mystery girl, and a tad jealous of both of them.

“Well?” Chandler hissed, her rage growing every moment. She was obviously highly irritated. Only a moment later though, Mac watched Chandler’s eyes drift down to the blue eyed girl. 

Immediately, her eyes widened, as she was seemingly unable to look away. Mac’s eyes trailed toward the girl, and she was extremely unpleased to see the girl’s face flushed. ‘Dammit…’ she thought, ‘why is it always Heather Chandler?’ At least the girl was probably gay, or at least bi, if she was this flustered by simply glancing at Chandler. Unless she was just blushing out of embarrassment, which would mean none of them could have her, and- Whoa. Hold on a minute. She told herself. 

She didn’t even know this girl’s name, let alone anything about her relationship status, sexuality, political or religious views, or her personality. Mac told herself to be quiet and stop thinking about that for now, but it was proven to be a hard feat, with the pretty girl looking between all of them with her gorgeous blue eyes. God those eyes. They were like the calm ocean after a storm, bright and shimmering and deep, and Mac could just get lost in them forever, and she would be perfectly content. As she glanced at her girlfriends, however, she had a feeling they were thinking the same thing. 

“Um… I’m Veronica, by the way. Thanks, uh… for catching me, I guess. You’re really strong.” The girl- Veronica,- shot her a smile that warmed her heart. Veronica suddenly swung her legs to the ground, and Mac assisted her by bringing them lower. Veronica stood up, smiled at all three of them, and ran the other way, toward a large girl in a unicorn sweatshirt. The most popular girls in school all stood frozen, blushing, and staring at Veronica as she ran away with her friend. Slowly, they turned to each other, bewildered. What. The. Fuck.


-sbumitted by halo

SORRY THIS GOT BURIED IN WITH EVERYTHING ELSE AHHHH, but yes the spacing is better!!! and its wonderful!!!! i love it!!!!

Genetics, Not Choice

A/N: Okay but this was so much fun to write holy crap. Sorry for the Iong plot, but sometimes I enjoy plots instead of pointless fluff. Hope you like it!
Des: You were just kidding around, honestly! But now that the cat’s out of the bag about Papyrus’ famous laugh being a genetic thing. Sans isn’t happy, but you sure as hell are. (Reader Insert)
—————————————————————————————————-

You had noticed several times, but had never brought it up. The fact that Sans never full-on laughed, loudly or from his stomach never bothered you or gave you much concern. You figured that was just how Sans was. 

It was hard to make him laugh, surprisingly. He enjoyed making other’s laugh, telling stupid jokes or casting out puns every chance he got. If you cracked a joke or one of your friends made a pun, he’d simply chuckle or grin in amusement. 

Sure, a few times he’d strain from bursting out in boisterous laughter, you could tell by the way he bit his non-existent lip. Maybe he was just hard to break. You didn’t know and had never thought about it. You couldn’t deny that it would be great if you could break him, hear him laugh until he was in tears-but you didn’t push.

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Gavin never lived in the US. He did plenty of jobs for Roosterteeth, the Fake AH crew and all the others, but his skill at hacking and coding meant that he never had to leave the UK.

Gavin had to work once with Jack and Geoff before the FAHC was formed and he really liked them and kinda started acting like their cyber stalker/friend. No one knows how he does the things he does. He even had the number to Griffons new burner phone, just a few minutes after she bought it. Still, hes harmless and useful and they can tell from the start he would stay on his side of the pond.

Gavin just messages Geoff sometimes at first, asking “would you rather” or “you get a million dollars but….” questions. Then he starts helping on jobs, disabling security and telling them where the police are. Geoff hired him on for a little less than he’s worth but Gavin didn’t even hesitate to accept. As soon as the crew takes over Achievement City, he bumps up his pay.

Gavin follows Jack as well. Gavin always connects to whatever car Jack is driving and tells bad jokes or plays the songs Jack has been humming all day. Jack rarely gets a red light, and cops always get called away on alarm calls before the crew hits an area. Gavin leaves little notes on Jack’s devices to say how awesome the driver is.

Geoff gets Microsoft paint doodles of dicks set as his background sometimes. To Geoff that’s just as nice as the compliment notes.

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Little Bird - Smut

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Void/Reader
Warnings: Possibly could be considered dubcon I guess, there’s a little choking also. I’m sorry but Void just calls for messy dirty rough kind of stuff ya know? ((sorry not sorry))
Words: 1,845
A/N: I have an idea for a part 2, maybe, possibly. Let me know? It’d be the aftermath and ultimately Stiles/Reader. Also thanks to my bestie @princessdavina for reading this for me and helping me come up with the plot.

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5


Huddled on your bed with the blankets pulled up to your middle, you sniffled, wiping the stray tears away from your cheeks. Allison was gone. She had been one of your closest friends, and now you would never get to enjoy another late night conversation on the phone, whispering so you wouldn’t wake your parents. No more impromptu shopping trips with her and Lydia. You wouldn’t get to hear her gush about Isaac or lament about Scott. She wouldn’t be there to support you as you pined away for Stiles.

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Rendezvous for Reconcile/Revenge

Request: “Can you do a Kylo/reader where the reader is a spy among Kylo’s ranks, and they end up falling for each other, and somehow her cover is blown and she has to escape and kylo is the one to catch her before she can get away and there’s angsty/fluffy confrontation before he lets her escape because he loves her?”

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 2562

Warnings: ANGST!!! HEARTBREAK!!! Also hmmm an ending that is up to interpretation ?!?!?!?!


DAY 1

You felt as if you were a ripe tomato amongst the sea of white bucket helmets. It wasn’t easy to get straight into the role of a First Order commanding officer, but now you had wished you had volunteered to be part of the covert Storm Trooper mission. At least then you could hide the nervous twitch that latched itself onto the bottom of your eye. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you had trained for this for so long, and that you couldn’t mess up on the first day. But after a full day of being tormented and teased, pushed to the side and neglected, you felt as if you would implode. No one at the Resistance base had told you how harsh the higher officers would be, and the resent you had already developed for them threatened to boil over and blow your cover. They were always suspicious as well, which didn’t help the situation at all.

You were walking down to the deck that General Hux was currently on, speedily making your way to, thankfully, hand in your last report for the day. That’s when you found yourself hurdling to the ground. Two superior officers had been passing you, and one of them decided it would be hilarious to trip the new girl over. And so, as your foot caught on the other officer’s ankle, you braced yourself for the hard steel floor that was bound to meet your face. But it never did.

You seemed to float in the air for a split second, then be placed gently on the ground by an invisible force. You looked up, both you and the two men shared a perplexed glance. Then you noticed the shadow that came to block the light behind you. You turned quickly, being met by an outstretched, gloved hand.

“Are you alright?” The questioning voice was distorted, but held a natural warmth to it that just barely shone through the monotone coder. You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

“I’m fine.” You huffed. “Thank you.”

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anonymous asked:

Imperial Problem Child-verse. After finding out about effectively being the Force's grandson, Luke spends a couple of surreal hours mentally substituting some variation of 'my grandfather' for 'the Force'. "May Luke's grandfather be with you!" "Oh, thank your grandfather!" "The Dark Side of your grandfather..."

Vader sincerely regretted ever telling the boy about his decidedly unusual origins.

It had been four minutes and Luke was still sitting with a very strange expression on his face.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” he advised sympathetically, “I stopped trying long ago.”

Luke groaned and put his head into his hands. “We are so messed up,” he sighed.

Vader was inclined to think this was a little bit of an understatement.

The Girl with the Phoenix Tattoo

The Girl with the Phoenix Tattoo

Words: 3780

Characters: female!reader, Dean & Sam Winchester, Cas. Ketch (in future parts)

Summary:
A routine vamp nest extermination puts you in a place you never thought you’d be again– Dean’s arms. Will he still feel the same when he finds out where you’ve been the past five years? And how will Ketch react to finding out you have a deep seeded past with the Winchesters? Will the truth set you free?

Warnings: NSFW. Swearing, angst, attacked!reader, wounds, critical wounds. Dying!reader, Smut and all that implies.

Wherein I owe one soul per contract to @thedevilinthedetails my beta, my twin who helped birth this, I can’t take all the credit, so show the blog some love. ❤️

Tags at the end, if you aren’t tagged it’s because Tumblr hates me. 


The Girl with the Phoenix Tattoo

It was a cool misty night and perfect for hunting. These vampires almost made it effortless to find them. They had made their hunting grounds too obvious and left a trail behind. It was almost too easy; they had to be new.

Their hiding place was an old ramshackle house in the woods outside of town. I crept back into the back yard and dispatched the female vamp who hissed at me. She was hungry, so it made her sloppy and an ineffective lookout. Her head rolled and I continued towards the house, taking the steps as silently as I could. A male vamp, late twenties leapt out the door at me and I swung the sword confidently. It took his head and I kicked it away. Five vamps later and one was running.

I took off after it out the door and it rounded the house toward the front yard. I leapt and mid-air my sword flashed, there was a solid thunk-shear and the last vampire’s head rolled across the ground. It landed at the feet of a man I never thought I would see again.

Dean Winchester.

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i hope you don’t mind if i added jet and made it modern au. …this is very self-indulgent and probably not what you wanted sorry

(and yes requests are still open!)