#World’s Finest reread | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

accio-lo-ki · 3 months

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Hii would you have any percabeth fic recs?? I'm just deprived 😭😭

Oh I have a LOT. If you’re as insane about this ship as I am, you’ve probably read all of them but I’m still going to list them down anyway. So, in no particular order:

Whiny Little Pitch by petersgwen - this fic literally made me scream multiple times. everything by this author is chef’s kiss btw. Sports au like no other + exes to lovers

Apartment 305 by waddled - a literal serotonin boost monster of a fic that i’m sure most already know about . i love percy and annabeth’s relationship here, and their characterization. It’s got college romance, olympic athlete Percy, and pipabeth bffism at its finest.

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated at School by lammermoorian - man this one I reread a lot. I just love it so much. Academic!Percy, domestic percabeth, and just a whole lot of charm

Honesty and Promise Me by Darkmagyk, lammermoorian - never thought I would enjoy punk!annabeth until this fic. it has unexpected pregnancy but it’s so well done! fwb to lovers!

For Real This Time by captainjackson, timelesslords - anything written by this pair is a must-read, but this is one of their best! roman!percy and divorced annabeth! the premise is so interesting and the setting even more so.

Murkiest Intentions by inkncoffee - i feel like this fic shows my age, but when i tell you it’s a classic! jurassic world au (it sounds crazy but it’s so good) i’ve been rereading this since high school and it still holds up

Would it really kill you (if we kissed) by greenconverses - i mean, who hasn’t read this and all the author’s works? but it’s a classic in the fandom and it’s a classic for a reason

The Old Guard au by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - this series is so well-written with such a solid worldbuilding you have to binge it this instant go

Love me, won’t you by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - modern romeo and juliet with greece as a backdrop? sign me tf up

the sun stands by petersgwen- if you want pain this is it this fic is pain in fanfiction form

That crosses the white sea by husborth - another well-written masterpiece with percabeth in college

Voice on the radio by PastyPirate - another fandom classic! this one has me giggling kicking my feet everytime i reread it. soulmate au! musician!percy! and friendship bracelets!

The Heart is a Muscle by thebackupkid - I feel like this one is so underrated, but it’s so good and so interesting and distinct! it’s got magic and adventure and fantasy! the worldbuilding again is so good!

Impossible Year by bananannabeth - another pain in fiction form. but this time it has a breakup trope, which destroys me so much I always need years before i want to reread this again. but it’s a masterpiece and you should experience it at least once in your life!!

Game, Set, Match by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - if there’s a classic percabeth sports au, it’s this. and it has fwb too and it’s just too iconic

Stucco Hearts by ananbeth, writergirl8 - another fandom classic, but this time it’s a soulmate au! this is so so interesting and one of my favorite soulmate aus ever. the worldbuilding is so interesting. another case of it’s a classic for a reason!

Puck It by bipercabeth, jasonmclean - hockey au + friends w benefits. again, another fandom classic. unfortunately i think this was discontinued by the authors but it’s still too good not to read!

Broken glass, no reflection by ananbeth, flyingcrowbar - another (potentially) discontinued fic that I still think about now. it’s a pacific rim au and it’s so. goddamn. good. read it now !!

kiss me once cause you know i had a good night by herecomesthepun - this one is pure comedic fluff and if you need a serotonin boost you have to read it. workplace romance with a twist !

slow motion double vision in a rose blush by herecomesthepun - ooh this one is a high school fwb secret relationship au with a punk percy and a student council president annabeth so basically it’s a classic

and they were roommates by bipercabeth - friends to lovers + college percabeth like no other. another fandom classic

Never Shall We Die by captainjackson, timelesslords - this pirate au series is INSANE it’s crazy good the worldbuilding is amazing it makes me feral actually

Wreck my plan, that’s my man by seaweedbraens - everything by this author is so good they’re a fandom icon but this one in particular i think about daily (tho it’s ongoing)

How to Seduce an Earl by sinfulindulgence - this is hella spicy but it’s also so addicting? i blame bridgerton (this author does so much stuff w this vibe that u should check out too! i liked Revenge of the Duchess as well)

Night at the Museum by lammermoorian - it’s so niche and crazy and camp but also angsty and fluffy and you need to read it right this second ! i LOVE this one

faster than a hairpin trigger by medeaa - this one is the quintessential percabeth fwb college au TO ME. unfortunately it’s (potentially) discontinued, but it’s still one of my favorites.

watch me fall at your feet by maydayparade8123 - this is a really well-written friends to lovers fic that realt explored how confusing it is to fall in love with your best friend like,, it’s a classic but also it’s so real !! this author is a fandom icon but i think they deleted / orphaned their accounts on ff.net and ao3

spellbound by writergirl8 - this is the percabeth hogwarts au. i dont make the rules.

home is where i want to be (but i guess i’m already there) by percivaljackson - fake dating + holidays! this is so well-written!

‘tis the damn season by captainjackson - regency au at its finest!!

This is way too long already lmao i dont have the time to list down everything (i have 700+ percabeth fanfics downloaded on my ibooks app 😭) but these are the ones that i can recall at this time !! Happy reading!

#this got out of hand #percabeth #fanfic #fic rec #pjo #percabeth fic rec

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fernandezology · 1 year

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fernardezology’s recommendation list

series:

invisible string by @invisiblestringmm

where one night fling with mason turned into something impactful. he is unaware that you have a daughter together,but fate has a plan for you. it’s one of the best pieces i’ve read here and while you read it,you cannot feel immersed with story.

just pretend by @gavisuntiedboot

this should be turned into a netflix show. while you wait for an update,you will definitely want to reread it.

worlds collide. by @blubffsd

so much drama. listen to the great war by taylor swift while reading.

juno! by @jesssssssssica

it’s gonna be impossible not to fall for jude after you read this. also very impossible not to check her other work😉

we’ll be allright by @footiehoemcfc

mason angst at it’s finest. very rereadble.

champion’s league’s nights by @yungbludz

there is no better crossover,even marvel doesn’t come close to this. my personal multiverse of madness.

sunshine becomes you by @oh-saints

never knew i needed grumpy martin x sunshine reader before i saw this.

to have and to heal by @yellowkitkieran

where martin navigates the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. that’s not to mention football, life and... love? her other stories are also 10/10.

envolver by @pedriscroquettes

loved every single word here.

a mountain to climb by @mountttmase

you will go through every emotion with this one.

his girls by @pulisicsgirl

is there anything better than christian in general? yes and it’s dad!christian.

almost always by @greykitkepa

thank you for your service and spreading kepa propaganda by writing🫡

one shots/headcanons

can’t sleep (without you) by @julianalvarez9

leandro is the cutest sleep deprived thing and it’s safe to say she did him right with this one.

headcanons by @starsshoppin

i couldn’t choose just one,all of them are masterpieces. head of headcanons and probably one of the first accounts i followed here.

silent treatment by @masonspulisic

angst with mason by her never disappoints.

pretty face,pretty boyfriend too by @masonmtxo

jelaous mason>>

dating pablo gavi by @i9messi

exactly how i imagine dating him would be like.

the great war by @mounts89

as if this already wasn’t my fav song from midnights..

comforting words by @mqsi

if barca losing means we get masterpieces like this,we won after all.

red card by @pedrisbanana

i will never see the barca lockroom the same way.

mornings with you. by @luvgavii

prime example of “how is this her first imagine?”

mistletoe by @ktsfootballff

the twist at the end?? love love this and her work in general.

the 5 times he knew by @888bear

who doesn’t love good old childhood friends to lovers?

wherever you are by @swimmingismywholelife

so so beautiful.

headcanons by @minnlix

again,it was hard to choose just one because all of them are *chef’s kiss*

nsfw alphabet by @footballfeverr

mindblowing. that’s all i have to say.

mornings by @20-th-centurygirl

i think this is also one of the first blogs i followed and i lovee her work!

insta au’s

needed some space by @ithinkimokeei

queen of insta au’s as far as i am concerned.

flashing lights by @gavislover

oh my god.

oh,baby! by @kepamount

pure entertainment.

#fernadezology’s fic rec #feel free to sent me fics you love in inbox!!#i’m so sorry if i forgot anyone i’ll update this again #fic rec

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pluckyredhead · 4 months

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so what did you not like about worlds finest teen titans? There were a lot of dropped plot threads and bits I expected Waid to develop more (Roy and Ollie conflict, Roy, Garth and Wally never resolved their sleepover argument, Karen's reaction at the con to nearly being unmasked, Wally's parents, ect) and also the queerbaiting with garth (and his eyes changing colour halfway through???) was annoying. I thought it was cute overall but maybe I'm not familiar enough with some of the characters?

I held on to this ask because I was going to reread the miniseries to answer you more accurately, and then I decided to not put myself through that, so...hopefully my memory is accurate lol.

(I should note before I get into it that none of my quibbles are with Emanuela Lupacchino's art. She's a treasure and we're thrilled that she's here.)

But yeah, you've put the nail on the head with a lot of it. It was just terribly paced, like Waid didn't know how many issues he had or something. Aside from all the dropped threads you mentioned, it felt like the main bad guys were...pretty much hastily introduced, or at least assembled, in #5? There didn't seem to be any kind of...well, point to this miniseries. There was no theme. There was nothing Waid was trying to say, as far as I could tell, except "Fuck Roy Harper." (Oh, we'll get to that.) It wasn't an origin story for the team. It wasn't about adolescence or coming of age or learning who you are, except maybe a little bit for Garth. It was just...there.

And I want to be clear here: Mark Waid is one of my favorite comic book writers of all time. When he hits, he hits. The regular World's Finest book and his Shazam are wonderful. I just think this wasn't the right match of writer/characters, because he didn't handle these very well. Taking them one by one:

Dick: DC is fully in their "Dick the unbearable Mary Sue" era and this book is no exception. If I never see another comic where a whole team of experienced superheroes with major league powers and training stands around like incompetent jackasses until a Bat comes along and tells them what to do, it'll be too soon. I'm here to read about an ensemble book where everyone is a three-dimensional character, not The World's Most Perfect Boy and his loser sidekicks. Not only is it unfair to everyone else in the cast, it's doing a disservice to Dick, who is a much more interesting character than this book (or Tom Taylor, ahem) gives him credit for.

(There's also something very weird and inconsistent Waid is doing across his books with Dick - WF, WFTT, and BvR - where sometimes he's throwing a tantrum because he doesn't get to be a circus star with everyone looking at him all the time, and sometimes he's screaming at Roy for filming them, and both feel utterly arbitrary to me as well as contradictory.)

Donna: Donna's characterization in this was just...bizarre. I was a little worried about how Waid would handle her, since he has a tendency to turn more quote unquote "wholesome" female characters into the Mom Friend (see: his Champions run, where he tries to get away with it by having Kamala announce that she's not going to be the Mom Friend because she's the only girl on the team...and then immediately becoming the Mom Friend), and Donna's already very much a Mom Friend, and I didn't know what Mom Friend Squared would look like. But instead he went for this...Manic Pixie Nightmare Girl approach? Where she's really into bungee jumping and monster trucks? I'm not offended by it, it's just so utterly random. This isn't who Donna is? It's never been who she is? Baffling.

I am offended (I mean, mildly, but still) by the fact that she and Garth are shoehorned together in this. He's the only boy on the team she's never been romantically linked to, even in dreams/hallucinations/whatever, so completing the set feels very much like Donna's only narrative worth is in being a love interest, which...gross.

Garth: Garth probably got the best treatment of the bunch, to be honest. He was in character as the shy little weirdo he was in the Silver Age and in pretty much every flashback we've ever seen. He's smart and perceptive and bad at saying what he wants and generous towards those who have hurt him, all of which is very Garth. I have no complaints about him except the weird queerbaiting, and I'm not blaming Waid for that because from what I understand, solicits are written by editorial working off of a pitch, potentially before the comic is even written, so who knows what happened there? It might have been a stupid joke that didn't land, it might have been a story that was pitched and then a higher up vetoed it, it might have been a story Waid was going to write and then changed his mind. I'm not going to say it's his fault when I have no idea if that's true. Otherwise, I think he handled Garth well.

Wally: Wally was another one where I was just like ??? the whole time. He didn't feel like Wally, he felt like Bart. But, like, fanon's innocent child version of Bart and not the actual canon character, who has a lot more backbone. Why is he hero worshipping Dick like that? Why is he so docile? What was up with that weird line where Dick's like "you're the youngest?" Yes, historically Dick had already dropped out of college while Wally was still in high school, but otherwise they've always been portrayed as the same age. And if it's a reference to debut year, Donna's the youngest. It's such a random throwaway line dumped in at the very end for...why? Confusing me personally?

The worst, though, was whatever the hell was going on with Wally's parents. Wally's parents are not an idyllic suburban couple! They are not the Kents! Rudy West is only not classified as a supervillain because he doesn't have a costume! Even if he hadn't tried to kill Mary, sold the Earth out to alien robots, faked his own death, or run a deadly labor camp for children at this point in the timeline, he definitely hit Wally and, uh, poisoned Wally's Little League coach. I don't think Mary is as bad as some of fandom does, but she's certainly a difficult person. Wally was desperately unhappy at home as a child, which is why he latched on so hard to Barry and Iris. And Waid knows this, because he wrote a lot of that canon. If it's a retcon, it's such a strange, pointless one that makes all of them a lot less interesting. Just baffling.

Karen: I think it was a very smart choice to add Karen to the founding roster and make the team slightly more gender-balanced and not all-white. It's kind of a wasted choice, though, when she's so aggressively sidelined. All she does in this book is hang around with Mal and the support staff. She isn't looped into any of the major emotional conflicts - Garth and Donna, Dick and Roy, Roy and Wally and Garth. She's not treated as a headliner in the same way the others are, and that really sucks.

Roy: Hoo boy.

When Waid was announced as the writer of Batman vs. Robin, I was worried, because I had a feeling he didn't like Damian. I couldn't put my finger on why, it was just a feeling I had. And boy howdy, was I proved right! Damian is treated like shit in that book.

I had the same feeling with this book and Roy, and...let's just say I'm two for two, okay?

Here's the thing. I'm okay with Roy being written as kind of shitty, especially during his period of his life. Teen Titans: Year One writes him as an utter fuckboy, and I love that comic. The Mal and Karen issue of The Other History of the DC Universe retells the Bronze Age Titans era from their perspective, and it pulls absolutely no punches regarding Roy being, well, kind of an asshole...and it's right to do so, because it's drawing very directly from those 1970s comics, and he was often awful in those.

But Waid writes him as a generic 80s movie villain. He's a human popped collar. He's a stereotype of a bully. My problem isn't that I need him to never do anything wrong, it's that nothing in this book is specific to Roy, his history, or his established personality.

For instance, all of his bragging about how much money he has? He comes off like a kid who was born into wealth and has never known anything else, but that isn't true. He was at best middle class before Ollie, probably more likely working class given the economic situation on most reservations - but there's no indication that he's responding specifically to that shift in circumstances. He's just, like, Draco Malfoy with arrows. Also, Dick has a nearly identical history but none of the same issues. He even says "Roy and I have the same background but he sucks." Why is one of them a perfect angel untouched by filthy lucre, and the other is Bradley Uppercrust III?

And then there's the subplot with Ollie neglecting Roy, which fizzled out to a real wet fart of a resolution. But honestly, at no point did I know where Waid was going with that, because...well, if you know Roy's history, you know Ollie neglecting him is what leads directly to Roy getting into drugs. And like...first of all, the timeline here is off, because historically Ollie didn't ditch Roy until after he lost his money, and he still has it here. (How interesting would it have been to have Roy pretending he was still rich in addition to pretending Ollie was around?) But also, this comic ends on an "and now everything is fine!" note, but it isn't! It really, really isn't. So Ollie showing up at the end and being like "I'm here for you, buddy" doesn't ring true, because he is demonstrably not in this very comic, and we also know he won't be in the future. And Roy getting what he wants doesn't feel like a satisfying resolution either because we don't actually get to see changed behavior from him, and again, we know this won't last. (Again, TT:YO handles this dynamic very well, where we see that Ollie is an affectionate but negligent guardian who Roy is learning some very bad habits from.)

And to top it off, constantly contrasting Terrible Roy to Virtuous Dick and simultaneously pretending that Ollie was at this point a responsible guardian has the (I hope unintentional) effect of implying that Roy will eventually become an addict because he's just a bad and weak person, instead of a struggling teen who needed support and didn't get it. I would have actually preferred a story that hinted at the beginning of Roy's addiction and how he hides it from the Titans, because we've never had that story told in comics, but I don't think Waid's the one to write it. Instead we get a conflict that's out of character for Roy, a resolution that doesn't feel at all earned, and the looming threat of Roy's immediate future which Waid refuses to address.

In conclusion, this book was a mess, and you should all read Teen Titans: Year One instead.

#meta #teen titans #dick grayson #robin #donna troy #wonder girl #garth #aqualad #wally west #kid flash #karen beecher #bumblebee #roy harper #speedy

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transdimensional-void · 9 months

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i reread agot bran ii the other day, and it struck me that this chapter is basically bran speed-running sansa's entire agot arc:

"For days, Bran could scarcely wait to be off. ... His father would be Hand of the King, and they were going to live in the red castle of King's Landing, the castle the Dragonlords had built."

"Bran was going to be a knight himself someday, one of the Kingsguard. Old Nan said they were the finest swords in all the realm. There were only seven of them, and they wore white armor and had no wives or children, but lived only to serve the king. Bran knew all the stories."

"Father had promised that they would meet Ser Barristan when they reached King's Landing, and Bran had been marking the days on his wall, eager to depart, to see a world he had only dreamed of and begin a life he could scarcely imagine."

he starts out the chapter giddily dreaming about king's landing, the south, and the future he's always dreamed of. his imaginings are largely informed by the stories he's heard. honestly, if you swapped out "bran" for "sansa" and "be a knight" for "be protected by knights" these sentences could easily be about sansa instead.

next, we see him saying his goodbyes (well, he only successfully says one goodbye) to winterfell before going off to play with his wolf.

"He was still trying to decide on a name. Robb was calling his Grey Wind, because he ran so fast. Sansa had named hers Lady, and Arya named hers after some old witch queen in the songs, and little Rickon called his Shaggydog, which Bran thought a pretty stupid name for a direwolf."

compare this to sansa at the trident, her first scene after leaving winterfell, where she plays with her wolf and contrasts it with her sister's. also note that bran's wolf serves as a warning for the danger he is headed toward:

"He was halfway up the tree, moving easily from limb to limb, when the wolf got to his feet and began to howl.

"Bran looked back down. His wolf fell silent, staring up at him through slitted yellow eyes. A strange chill went through him. He began to climb again. Once more the wolf howled."

for a while, bran is carefree, having the time of his life, thinking about how much fun he is having and ignoring all the warnings he's previously received about the danger he is in.

then, he has his big run-in with the lannisters. it's interesting that he ends up with the lannisters after an act of disobedience. he overhears their conversation and understands that they are talking about his father, though he lacks the knowledge to fully grasp the situation. he also doesn't realize who the people in the room really are for a long time, but by the time he does, it's too late.

"Her golden hair swung from side to side as her head moved back and forth, but still he recognized the queen.

"He must have made a noise. Suddenly her eyes opened, and she was staring right at him. She screamed."

he's already been identified as a target by cersei. he slips and falls but just barely manages to hold onto the window ledge. and then he makes the mistake of trusting the lannisters.

"'Take my hand,' he said. 'Before you fall.'

"Bran seized his arm and held on tight with all his strength. The man yanked him up to the ledge."

just like sansa trusted cersei and sought help from her, bran accepts jaime's offered help. but, of course, as helpful as jaime is making himself appear in this moment, he has no intention of letting bran go free. just as bran thinks he's safe, he gets pushed to his doom.

note that the lannister who betrays their trust is the one in the position they have dreamed of themselves in. jaime is the white knight of the kingsguard bran was just fantasizing about joining.

like sansa at the end of agot, though, the lannisters don't kill bran. they think they've successfully neutralized him, but while they've wounded him--and forever altered the course of his life--he has survived and will go on to play a major part in the story.

#asoiaf

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batmannotes · 8 months

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Batman: The Golden Age Omnibus 2023 Edition Hardcover

In stock at Amazon.

Written by Bill Finger, Gardner Fox, and Whitney Ellsworth Art by Bob Kane, Sheldon Moldoff, Jerry Robinson, and George Roussos Reread Batman?s 1939 debut and other early tales in this collection of Golden Age classics. Since his first appearance in Detective Comics #27, Batman has become one of the most popular comics characters in the world, appearing in multimillion-dollar movie franchises, TV shows, video games, and other media. Batman: The Golden Age Omnibus Vol. 1 features the very first appearance of Batman and introduces such classic characters as Commissioner James Gordon, Robin, The Joker, Catwoman, the Penguin, and many more! Reprints stories from Detective Comics #27-56, Batman #1-7, New York World's Fair Comics #2, World's Best Comics #1, and World's Finest Comics #2-3.

824 pages

#batman #dc comics #comic books

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blorb-el · 1 year

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reread world’s finest 289 “the one where alien telepathic worms feed on bruce and clark’s emotions and then have sex and die in front of them and then they weep and embrace over the ashes of the dead telepathic worms and the last line of dialogue is literally ‘here it is warm...outside it is bitterly cold. perhaps no one else, on any world, would understand.’” and i really can’t believe no one has yet written the sex scene afterwards. or if they have i can’t find it :(

#listen i just think. that the telepathic worms. should let them sense each other's emotions for a bit...#psychic feedback sex is what i'm saying #i AM tempted to write it myself but #how make word go :l #superbat #also i'd have to track down late bronze age continuity for bruceman rip

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dairy-farmer · 8 months

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Twas rereading you respond to my Fake But Not Really, Informant Robin Ask? The Hunt and Prey dynamics? And just?

Dat implication that he legit could find TENTACLES in those pants at this point and would STILL find a way to fuck him? >:3c oh myyyyy~

What if he WAS a cis Boy? Gnc, first to make it harder to ID him, then just cause it felt right? And just?

Bruce slowly transitioning from rage to anger to concern to frustration to obsession. He's been trained by the FINEST IN THE WORLD. This is literally HIS CITY. How. HOW is this boy out running him? Then this teen. Then this pretty young thing.

Obviously, Tim has dumped EVERYTHING into his speed and evasion stats. Bruce is a walking tank. He Would Absolutely Lose. And just? How many near misses were there? More then once! Where Bruce ASSUMES and Tim is his squirmy, impossible to pin forever self.

Did Bruce tackle him? Wrapping around him to make sure the fall isn't too hard on those rough, rough rooftops? Get to feel that hot little body pressed under him right until he's escaped? Does he get him pinned to a wall perhaps? Get to smell that spice and herbs body wash? Practically TASTE the sweat in the air between you as "Robin" gasps high and muffled up against the bricks for air? Getting distracted are we Bruce? Frustrating when he gets AWAY because of it..... ain't it?

If only there was a way to STOP that~

And it's not like... not like he can PLAN for when The Robin shows up. Gotta have the supplies ON him. But uhh, quick question, Bruce. What ARE those supplies? When did that lubricant make it's way in? That condom?

And that FILE on your computer... when DID you start it? With research and plans? Oh sure you had a few male lovers in the past, but never have pulled BATMAN level research for it... did ya? And a ROOM huh? Oh sure, sure. Gotta first contain the possible threat. Mmmhm. Oh? The threat assessment? I see... then "ideally, folding him into the family" huh?

As a son? Doesn't seem like a son, there, Bruce. And that room seems very... sex prison-y. "Threat assessment" their Various Bat Asses. Where's bruce? Off hunting down the step-mom. It's absolutely a kink they joke (so they don't have to think about how it genuinely IS).

And just? The bolas finally catching his upper body. Down he goes. Bruce on him in seconds. One fuild motion to get handcuffs securing ankles together. Gloved hand in his hair pressing back down before he can get up to start struggling free. Got him. GOT HIM.

And it's everything he HAS not to be a savage. Dragging his other glove off, don't know where it's been, wanna FEEL. Those pants dragged down so fast he's surprised he doesn't tear them. Coms and cams already off. Lube open. Sliding a finger all the way home.

Getting a yelp. Panting and squirming and NOT THIS TIME, you wont! You're staying RIGHT where he wants you! Not even trying to STRETCH this brat so much as looking for that spot that'll- Finding it and getting a squeak and a jolt. Feeling EVERY tooth bear itself as he smiles like a shark. Getting a WAIL as he started ramming in.

His pretty prey thrashing but trapped as his poor little spot is HAMMERED. He's not gonna be running ANYWHERE. Telling that. Growling out, half high out of his mind with the victory and lust, EXACTLY how frustrating he's been. How much of a god damned TEASE. Pushing in another finger, just to feel his body stretch. To TAKE it as he finger fucks like a brute. Drags him over the edge.

Buries his fingers in deep and grinds and grinds and GRINDS.

The poor little hole forced to take it, as he milks him through it. Makes him sob. Gasp for air. Like HELL he's done. YEARS. This tease, this hunt going for YEARS. Barely remembers to slide the damn condom on. Gonna test him at the cave. If he's clean, fuck him RAW. Pulls the whimpering wreck into his arms and into his lap.

Sheaths him right on his cock. Balls deep in one go. Holds his little face still and he peels off that mask. Runs the face match. Got him. Timothy Drake.

Fucks deep and hard, growling every bit of information that pops up right in "Robin's" ear. Found you. Got you. No more escape.

And just? All that frustration~ But Bruce is not a MONSTER! Oh no, it's unthinkable to HURT you so much you can't escape. But physical exhaustion? And wouldn't you know it, humans ARE just so much more susceptible to influence when on the brink of exhaustion from marathon sex. Feel like agreeing with him... don't you? *muffled groan whine from the bed* Atta boy.

But of course~ Tim is not so easily swayed. His a strong willed young Twink who don't need no Bat-Man! He will not be-! *hand lands ominously on his shoulder as he's trying to sneak out* Ha ha.... he's in Danger(tm). *is dragged back for The Fuckening: Round Another One*

It's like the Bat and the cat except it's just Bruce trying to convince Tim to STOP running around Gotham and stay in his nice comfy manor with technology, a bat cave, and Bruce's bed in it! But Tim SHANT. He is an independent Twink! A MODERN man of mystery! You can't convince him with sex!

To which Bruce says "Bet."

😭😭😭😭 tim is a modern man and can't be bought with incredible sex from a mentally ill men who has jacked off to fantasies of catching him and mounting him on the wall like a prized deer head but also of literally mounting tim and fucking the desire to be his stay at home wife and cockwarmer into his head ❤️❤️❤️.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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rontra · 2 months

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i just wanted to say thanks. all your ctde/dc posting inspired me to get back into reading comics and it's been really nice to reclaim a passion i thought i lost to depression ages ago. i've been reading through all the superbat for girls comics and it's been a real joy.

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO im happy for you anon :) now entering the superbat for girls zone...

yea i need them to make more of that stuff. for Me. i went back to the bronze age just to root around like a truffle hog for huntress comics. felt like striking gold every time i got to see her AND pg. beautiful . but even that well runs dry...

well. guess i could just reread worlds' finest again huh. my beloved.

#you n me anon.... here in the SBFG (superbat for girls) mines. hacking away

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harrywavycurly · 1 year

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Hi Sarah 💞 I LOVED the first one you did, so could you please do some more ways you’d meet Eddie?! 😍

Hiii babes!! Awe I’m so glad you liked the first one!! Here are some other very random ways you can meet Eddie! I hope you enjoy!!💖

*Eddie swears he’s never taking Henderson to the movies ever again but…he also swears he’s never seen someone as pretty as you*

“Hi what can I get for you today?” “Uhh just a large popcorn and two large cokes please.” “Does your son want anything sweet? I’ll toss in some red vines for him.” “My what? Son? He’s…he’s…Henderson.” “That’s…a cool name…” “no no what I mean is he’s not…wait how old do you think I am?” “I’m not here to judge I’m just here to serve you stale popcorn and drinks and who knows you could’ve had a wild night in your teens and now you have a Henderson.” “I do not have a Henderson. I mean I do but not…he’s not my son.” “Oh he’s your stepson then?” “What? No no he’s not my son or stepson he’s…more like a little brother of…sorts.” “Ohh that’s so cute you’re taking your little brother to the movies. Well I’ll still toss in some red vines for him.” “Thanks…he’ll appreciate that. Uh I’m Eddie…by the way...” “Nice to meet you Eddie. Enjoy the movie.”

“Whatever you’re selling I’m sorry but we really aren’t interested.” “That’s great but I’m not selling anything.” “Then why are you banging on my door at ten in the morning?” “Because your van’s back doors are open and it’s raining…” “what? Oh fuck.” “I saw them when I walked by this morning and thought maybe you were loading it up but then when I walked back and saw they were still open I figured you didn’t know and now it’s raining and your shit is getting ruined.” “You could’ve just closed them?” “And risk it looking like I’m stealing your shit out of the back of your van? I think the fuck not. We all know that’s just the type of thing Mrs. Debbie looks for while she sits on her porch all day. She’d love to call the cops on me.” “That’s true she does look for shit like that…I take it she’s called Hawkins finest on you before then?” “Once yeah when I put a cherry bomb in Mr. Douglas’s mailbox.” “That was you? How…have we never met before? I’m Eddie.” “I know who you are Eddie we’ve lived in the same park for about five years now.” “Damn…I thought I knew everyone who lived here.” “Well clearly you don’t so it’s nice to finally meet you…and…your back doors are still open…”

“Uh hi…Steve told me you wanted to talk to me?” “Steve? Like Steve Harrington?” “Yeah…has nice hair and used to be called King Steve…he’s a friend of yours or something?” “Uhh yeah sure you could call us friends…now he said what exactly?” “He told me that you’d like to talk to me? You’re Eddie Munson right? If you’re not then please act like this never happened.” “Don’t worry sweetheart I’m Eddie but I have no idea why he told you…is that the lord of the rings? You’re on the two towers?” “Uh yeah…I’m actually rereading it…it’s kinda my comfort series.” “Really? So dark magic and battles for middle earth are comforting to you?” “More like the friendships and loyalty to help save the world from utter doom…and Legolas…he’s very comforting.” “Ah you like elves then?” “Just him…oh and Sam can’t forget about Sam.” “I get it now…fucking Harrington he’s sneaky.” “That’s why his hair is so big…it’s full of secrets.” “Holy shit…I think I just fell in love.” “Okay…you’re a little odd aren’t you?” “Just a smidge.”

“Eddie? I’m ready for you.” “Yeah that’s me.” “Take a seat…did you cut these bangs yourself?” “Uh yeah I got bored one day and just went for it…” “not bad..so just a little trim or are we doing something drastic?” “Uhm yeah just a trim is fine?” “Okay and how about a conditioning treatment? These curls…could use some love.” “Just don’t make me leave here looking all fluffy like a poodle.” “Oh honey…I know this is your first time in my chair but you can trust me…I would never have you leave here looking like a poodle…Unless that’s what you asked for.” “Okay..I uh yeah I trust you…” “love the confidence Eddie…now let’s get started.”

#eddie munson x you #Eddie munson meet cute #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson concept #eddie munson request #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby #boyfriend eddie munson

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bethanydelleman · 1 year

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Rereading S&S and Mrs Jennings is just chef's kiss ❤️

Mrs. Jennings is the best! Here are my favourite parts of her:

She [Mrs. Jennings] then went away, walking on tiptoe out of the room, as if she supposed her young friend’s affliction could be increased by noise... Elinor, who did justice to Mrs. Jennings’s kindness, though its effusions were often distressing, and sometimes almost ridiculous, made her those acknowledgments, and returned her those civilities, which her sister could not make or return for herself. Their good friend saw that Marianne was unhappy, and felt that every thing was due to her which might make her at all less so. She treated her therefore, with all the indulgent fondness of a parent towards a favourite child on the last day of its holidays. Marianne was to have the best place by the fire, was to be tempted to eat by every delicacy in the house, and to be amused by the relation of all the news of the day. Had not Elinor, in the sad countenance of her sister, seen a check to all mirth, she could have been entertained by Mrs. Jennings’s endeavours to cure a disappointment in love, by a variety of sweetmeats and olives, and a good fire.... “My dear,” said she, entering, “I have just recollected that I have some of the finest old Constantia wine in the house that ever was tasted, so I have brought a glass of it for your sister. My poor husband! how fond he was of it! Whenever he had a touch of his old colicky gout, he said it did him more good than any thing else in the world. Do take it to your sister.” -Ch 30, Sense & Sensibility

I too believe that wine, olives, tiptoeing, and good fires is the best way to get over a disappointed heart!

#sense and sensibility #mrs. jennings #appreciation post #question response #she is so loving

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talesmaniac89 · 1 year

Text

Charity Heist 5 - aka. The Swanky Party

A Supernatural Heist AU - Masterlist

Pairing: Hitter!Dean x Thief!Reader

Summary: The Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency is the best group of con artists in the world. But even though Y/N can crack safes, scale buildings and infiltrate even the most secure locations, she still can't find a way to deal with her all consuming feelings for the group's greek god of a hitter; Dean Winchester. How will she handle their next big heist, when she's forced to get up close and personal with the man of her dreams?

Warnings: Idiots in love, smutty thoughts, a lot of swearing and a ton of bad jokes.

Watch the trailer here

A/N: This story is 50% jokes and 50% dirty thoughts. No deep angst, just fun and action! Inspired by the series Leverage.

Y/N = Your Name | Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

Start Here - Last - Next

Time flies when you’re having fun trying to force your best friend into a dress and out amongst the public.

Which was exactly what you’d spent the following day doing, between triple checking your gear, rereading the plans and calming Charlie. So, the day had flown by faster than you could say ‘party people’ (which, coincidentally, you were not), and it was finally the night of the evil shindig slash fundraiser.

Fiend-raiser? Hell, close enough...

Your little team was geared up and ready to enter the belly of the beast. All dressed in your finest clothes like you were fucking Cinderella and friends at the ball. If Cinderella had earpieces, button cams and guns…

And the closest you came to a fairy godmother was Bobby. Who probably wouldn’t really like hearing you referring to him as your fairy godmother. Even though you did feel indebted to him for letting you become part of the Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency, a part of the family.

Your Cinderella comparison kinda fell apart when you involved Crowley however. Was he supposed to be the evil stepmother? The cat? Lucifer was a fitting moniker for the self-proclaimed king of the underground. Or maybe the pumpkin turned carriage that brought you to the party? Either way, the greased up Scotsman had been in top form as far as sass went the whole pre-party briefing.

Making comments about your less-than-fairytale-princess choice of dress and eyeing you up in a way that once more brought back Dean’s protective big brother rage. And left you feeling less than ready to party from the reminder that he saw you as family, nothing more. Even when you’d dressed to absolutely freaking slay.

After all, your fashion choices were nothing like Cinderella’s; nowhere near as shiny and poofy.

You had opted for sleek, short and black. The dress was easy to move in, which was paramount to any outfit you wore on missions. Hugging your curves tight in a way that seemed more painted on than actual cloth as it flowed down your body before stopping right above the knee. The deep open back, paired with your (Y/H/C) hair in an elegant updo that highlighted your neck and framed your face, left little space to hide your tools. But luckily you had a walking, talking handbag called Dean Winchester with you. So, past a few small toys and a set of throwing knives strapped to your thigh, he’d helped bring in the rest.

Ahead of you, Charlie was wearing a stunning red dress that you’d helped her pick out from the large treasure trove of recon outfits hiding in the bunker. Contrasting beautifully against her pale skin and easily long enough to hide her little gadgets. With a convenient slit down the side so she could get to the card stripper strapped to her thigh without anyone catching on.

The boys… Well, the boys were sadly not in dresses, but in their usual high end tuxedos used for cons of this type. Lucky bastards even had flat shoes on. Damn how you hated the dressy undercover missions. You were much more comfortable in sneakers, infiltration clothes, and harnesses - rather than stilettos, push up bras, and cocktail dresses.

“You ready?” Dean’s voice echoed as it reached you both directly and in your earpiece. His green eyes rested on you and you could feel the heat of the large hand that was softly sliding down your lower back, but you knew he wasn’t really speaking to you.

No, the question, that you still pretended to answer with a nod and a smile in case someone overheard, was meant for Sam. Situated across the street in the apartment you’d acquired yesterday (not all that ‘legally’ mind you) to use as your base of operation for the night. Dean’s eyes only betrayed that fact with a small, nearly missable glance to the side. In the direction away from the glitz and the glamor that was drawing the eyes of the crowd around you.

“Yeah, I have eyes on you. As soon as you reach the door sensors they’ll stop workin’. You’ll be able to get in with all your weapons and tech without setting off anything,” Sam’s voice came through loud and clear in your ear as you kept a fake smile plastered on your lips. Your back straight and eyes focused on the damned mansion ahead as you pretended that your heart wasn’t about to beat out of your chest from the proximity of a certain criminally handsome (no pun intended) Dean Winchester.

Not only was he standing close enough to steal your breath away with the slight spice and leather scent of his aftershave. But his hand would reach out at seemingly random times to brush against your arm or rest against your bare lower back, leading you forward through the crowds of partygoers that had all seemingly decided to show up at the exact same time.

Alicia was the type of woman that was used to being escorted around, unlike your own fierce independence. And since your cover for the night was as Dean’s date, that meant he was always within reach, ready to slide calloused fingers against your electrically sensitive skin.

Hell, even your cover; not a side piece, or a girlfriend. Just… A date. It was as painfully vague as the rest of Alicia Cooper’s background story. Which meant Dean had full freedom to interpret that as he saw fit while he escorted you towards the line in front of the door, right behind Charlie and Cas.

“And are we sure we can trust the green giant with this? I thought he knew his greens and veggies, not… Technology,” Crowley’s voice was low as it reached you through the small piece of silicone in your ear. The damned man always had to season every social situation with sass. That British humor really wasn’t your cup of tea (pun totally intended).

“Yes Crowley, we can… Charlie and Sam created the damned software we’re using to hack into the system and I trust ‘em more than you,” Dean shot back before his younger brother could defend himself. As always playing the protective big brother, no matter the enemy. The smile on his lips contrasting with the whispered words as you pretended to straighten his tie to give him a reason to keep his head down.

“And even so, my tech is great. I made it to be undetectable, even the chips I added to your weapons and the alloy (Y/N)’s knives are made out of. The sensors wouldn’t pick them up even if they were military grade,” Charlie pouted from ahead of you. You didn’t need to look over at her to know she was moping. Though you knew Castiel would do a good job playing it off as her being a slightly demanding date; bored of waiting in line.

She’d considered the extra precaution of momentarily shutting down the sensors as unnecessary from the start. Her little gadgets were like her babies. To her the extra measure was a direct blow to her ego and, worse yet, her toys.

“We trust you and your awesome gear Char, it’s just a precaution,” You shot in with a smile that was aimed at Charlie, but shared with Dean as you brushed some non-existent dust off of his shoulders. Before allowing him to straighten back up and put a large, strong hand low on your back again, where the dress met with bare skin. The direct touch of calloused fingers against slightly chilled skin sending little shots of electricity through you that threatened to blow a fuse in your brain.

Which was… Less than ideal. After all, you needed all your fuses functioning if you were gonna pull the job off in the middle of the damn snake pit masquerading as a party.

“Enough of the squabbling kids,” Sam said through your earpiece, which honestly made you want to squabble more, since he was younger than you. Still you kept your mouth shut as the kid kept speaking. Silently plotting a revenge that involved exchanging his protein shaker collection with Disney themed sippy cups and maybe sneaking a few bibs into his closet for good measure.

Kids…

You’d show him who the actual baby of the team was.

“This is the entry plan we decided on. Cas, Charlie; you guys are next in line, together with Crowley. Behave. Sensors shut down in three, two, one…”

---

To quote the poets of days long past; the party was nice, the party was bumpin’.

Ok, so that was the Baha Men… But quoting pop music from the 2000s always annoyed Dean, who insisted the only real music was classic rock. So, you’d developed a habit of doing it. Since your style of flirting was a little less Casanova and a hell of a lot more kindergarten hair pulling.

Though, truthfully, the party was more fancy than nice, and more classical music and people talking about their yachts than bumpin’. Which in turn, made it so totally not your scene. You liked your parties to be bumpin’, just like you liked your bad decisions to be fuelled by alcohol and adrenaline.

You were a simple woman, with simple needs. Fancy, wasn’t one of ‘em.

Groups of wealthy men and women stood in small circles scattered across the polished tiles and spoke in polite low tones about how much money they had in offshore bank accounts and how amazing it was of them to bypass their evil deeds and greed to give what to them was considered pocket change to the poor and needy in return for tax breaks and untraceable laundered cash. Or maybe they were talking about their villain lairs; complete with white cats, swivel chairs and shark pools, or something…

Hell, it was all the same to you. You could barely focus on taking a step forward with Dean’s hand so securely around your waist. Which was real bad… You had to focus.

Across the large open space, you could already see Castiel working the room and talking to the sleaziest of sleazebags with Crowley. His hands easily dipping into pockets to get wallets and ID cards as his words and smiles made them share little tidbits of information about themselves that allowed Sam to work his magic across the street.

Cas could probably charm the pants of a nun. Though you’d rather he didn’t aim to prove you right. Considering he was a very vocal atheist, claiming there were just ‘too many caveats in faith’, it just seemed extra blasphemic to even consider letting him near a nun. Since he’d probably take it as a challenge. Though he did have to pose as a priest on a con once; which you took great pleasure in reminding him of whenever the opportunity arose.

Father Simmons had been the least pieous priest that small backwater town had ever seen, but at least you’d managed to infiltrate the cult. Shutting it down and proving to the town, and the world, that the religious fanatisism had just been a cover for human trafficking. Like a Scooby Doo episode; only instead of pulling off the monster’s mask to reveal a ‘Mr. Creeps’ you’d revealed an even bigger monster.

All thanks to Castiel’s brilliant work charming his way into the cult. And of course, Charlie’s techy backup sleuthing that had helped you find, and rescue, the victims.

This time however, Charlie’s work was a little less background and a lot more field work. As she had left Castiel’s side, as planned, to plant a few cameras that would allow Sam to have eyes in the house as well. Since you’d need other angles than the in-house security system that your two wunderkids had already hacked.

Only doubling back from time to time to take the cards off of Cas’ hands and skim the information through the card reader she’d attached to her thigh or by scanning it with the button cam hidden in the brooch on her dress. Before a small giggly touch of her date’s shoulder had the card right back in Castiel’s hand to deposit it back into pockets before the mark even noticed anything was wrong.

Even Dean was hard at work; whispering guard numbers and visible weapon types through the earpiece.

Hell, you were the only one not fully focused. Which was bad. Considering the heist kinda, sorta relied on you finding the damned safe. You had to stop acting like a fucking teenager, high on daydreams and drunk on wine coolers and instead be (Y/N); super thief extraordinaire.

That’s why you were there after all. Your job was to find the fucking safe, as well as scope out possible entrances and exits for the actual heist. Your job was definitely not to stand around like a complete greenhorn and think about all the things you wished Dean’s hands would do to you. Oh, no sirree, that job was for late nights under the covers (Y/N), not master finangler of all things shiny (Y/N).

Priorities... First you’d trick the mafia and take all their not-so-hard-earned money, then you’d have some hot and heavy me-time. Never the other way around. It just wasn’t proper work-place etiquette.

“Let’s start casing the other rooms. We’re too out in the open, no hiding spots. For us or for a safe,” You spoke the words under your breath.

Slipping away from Dean’s hand, you took his hand in yours instead. Pulling him along further into the room with a louder giggle that seemed like it’d suit Alicia perfectly. Past the wandering eyes of bored upper-class wives that were not even trying to hide how they were devouring the man by your side.And out of earshot of their partners’ ‘economically pornographic’-conversations. Their husbands looked like they were about to straight up orgasm whenever someone said inflation or money laundering and it was… Disturbing.

“Castiel, see that big guy with the obvious toupee and suit jacket that’s two sizes too small? Yeah, he’s one of the big sharks in the criminal cesspool. Might wanna go introduce yourself,” Sam’s voice came through your earpiece just as you rounded the corner into the next room, which was just as flooded with human monsters flaunting their riches as every other room.

Throwing a quick glance over your shoulder you saw Castiel start to move, Crowley right beside him. Your inside man’s muttered complaint about being able to tell Cas that without Sam’s interference easily reached you, even from halfway across the room, through the vibration based earpieces.

Seriously, those things could pick up people’s wandering musings and dirty daydreams if you’d wanted them to. Which you really didn’t. Your mind was already a rambled mess without outside interference thank-you-very-much.

Still, except for the unnecessary running commentary, big bad had come through for you. The guy hadn’t only gotten you tickets to the underground party masquerading as a Charity Fundraiser, but he’d also ensured to namedrop Castiel’s cover name as a “top investor”. So Cas had every way in to shake hands and stroke egos. Leaving the rest of you free to do your jobs and scope the place out.

“Charlie, great job on the cameras and mics, that’s the last one. Make your way back to the main room to back up Cas and Crowley,” Sam’s voice continued to give orders over the earpieces, though none of you ever complained.

No matter how much your stubborn crew could butt heads before a heist, during the actual job you’d always listen to Sam. The guy was like a chess master and you were his little criminal chess pieces. If you did as he told you to, you’d make it out of any sticky situation just fine.

“People keep trying to talk to me. I’m not good with this undercover stuff,” Charlie groaned in response. Yet, as you finished walking through the other room and moved out to the dining room area, you still caught sight of her red dress disappearing through the door back to the main hall. Soldiering up and doing her duty even through her massive fear of social interactions.

“You do your LARPs and conventions, just do what you do there,” Dean chuckled next to you. The deep vibrations of that low laugh delivered right to your ear nearly made you stumble over your own feet with a sudden case of vertigo.

“I’m someone else when I LARP, I’m a queen. Same with cosplaying; Wonder Woman can talk to people… Me? Not so much,” Charlie’s voice sounded panicked over the little earpiece and you wished you could go help her, but you had to stay in your role and do your job.

You had a safe to find, and unfortunately it was nowhere to be found. The dining room was clear too, and you were running out of places to look for the damned thing. Though you’d basically already mentally mapped out their whole downstairs security system and at least 7 exit strategies. So there was that.

“You’ll be fine Char, after we get through this we’ll go to your favorite comic book shop, I promise,” You said with a small smile, catching Dean smiling at your words as well.

“Ok, alright… I can do this. For comic books and funko pops,” Charlie’s words were punctuated by a few deep breaths and one or two muttered creative swear words. But you knew she’d do her part and she’d do a hell of a good job of it too.

“That’s our girl, Charlie,” Sam’s voice was less master commander and more big brother as his warm chuckle came in over the comms system, before it returned to its serious tone and your strange little family was once again all business.

“Dean, check the guys by the door, I’m seeing what looks like a holster on one of Charlie’s cameras,”

---

You’d scoped out the whole bottom floor, which was massive, but disappointing. Not when it came to things worth stealing mind you. With the exception of the one forgery you’d clocked the day before, everything else was actual originals. You could buy an island from the value of the art displayed on the walls alone. But there were no safes, anywhere.

Damn it.

Sure, you’d done the other parts of your job, but you needed that safe. Bobby was working hard on the backup plan and Castiel had gathered up enough info for you to be able to pull a turnabout if it came to it and pit the criminals up against each other. But that was still plan B, and plan B wasn’t perfect.

Plan A had been... Perfect that was. Until the whole issue with there not being a damned safe on the first floor like your insider information had promised you there would be.

Petty crooks; you didn’t trust ‘em any further than you could throw ‘em... No, scratch that, you could throw people pretty damned far. As far as Crowley could throw ‘em. Yeah… The guy was an ultimate movie baddie, but he didn’t look like he could throw other bad guys all that far. Not only would that end up wrinkling his suit, but the man’s favorite super power seemed to be more sass, less Superman.

However, just as you’d been about to inform the team of your failure to locate the safe, Sam’s voice interrupted you across the comms. Cutting off his own words to Cas about the hidden dealings of the corrupt politician in front of him that the grifter could use to twist the man around his little finger to instead speak to the whole group.

“Shit, ok… So five guys, including the main honcho, just came down from the second floor. I think our intel’s bad. The safe is probably up there. This isn’t the first time tonight I’ve seen people go up and down those stairs,” Sam’s words were met with strained silence as you all waited for the big guy to rework the plan for your entry and exit and work the new information into it all.

It wouldn’t be easy, and even over the comms channel you could nearly feel the strained worry and tense backs of your team members. You had no cameras upstairs, so no matter the plan it was going to be a risk.

Still, you needed eyes on that safe.

“(Y/N), I need you up there. It might be dangerous, so stay low and be careful,” Sam’s words were hesitant over the comms channel. The big guy never liked sending anyone from your group of merry men into a possible dangerous situation without a backup plan. But you had no choice.

You wouldn’t get this chance a second time around. You had to get eyes on that safe before the party was over, if not plan A was shot and you’d have to move on to the rest of the fucking alphabet, which was not nearly as bulletproof as a good solid ‘A’.

Sam’s words perked you right back up out of your funk, even with the added element of danger… Hell, you couldn’t lie to yourself, you loved the danger. But better yet; you had another chance to find the damned safe. You really didn’t like letting the team down, not when they’d done so much for you. And… As an added bonus; your poor heart could get a break.

Spending a full evening with Dean’s arm around your waist had taken its toll on your nerves. Add to that the eyes of the many women eyeing him up as if he was the tastiest piece of sweetness in the sugar bowl, and you weren’t a happy camper. You were his arm candy, he wasn’t some tasty treat they could sneak a bite off while their husbands’ heads were turned.

Upstairs was good. Upstairs would keep you from punching people.

Alicia probably wouldn’t punch people...

“Alright, leave it to me. Downstairs’ fully scouted, I’ll check upstairs and give a full report after the party,” You tried, and mainly failed, to keep the excitement out of your voice as you started towards the stairs. Stepping away from Dean’s side for the first time that evening, you almost immediately felt cold.

Your poor heart could only take so much however, so the cool down was a welcome break from the fire burning low in your core. Yet, you hadn’t gotten more than two steps away before Dean’s hand was lightly circling your wrist and his voice was in your ear. Both directly and through the earpiece, as he pretended to murmur sweet nothings in your ear to hide his words from the rest of the party.

“I’ll go with her,” His words were not a request for Sam to include him in the plan. No, it was a statement; one his tone made it clear there was no use arguing against. He wasn’t letting you escape to the second floor to calm down.

Clearly the damned criminally handsome man had it out for your heart. You didn’t know what the stupid muscle had done to make a nemesis out of the Dean Winchester. But considering his presence was causing your chest to take a beating of its own design, it must have been real bad.

“We don’t know what or who’s up there. An extra pair of hands could be good,” He added when Sam stayed silent, not letting go of your wrist or moving until he heard a mumbled sound of agreement from his younger brother. Damn it. Why did Sam choose that moment, of all times, to actually agree with his big brother on a plan?

Lawyer up Sammy boy. Argue and protect your thief’s poor heart!

Unfortunately, your damned techy earpieces couldn’t transfer silent cries for help, yet. And so, you were left biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep your body from reacting to how Dean’s fingers were stroking against the pulse point on your wrist.

“I can take care of myself you know,” Your words were more a weak huff than an actual statement as you started walking.

Forcing your voice to keep from trembling as you once more stayed side by side with the man who made your heart practice extreme sports in your ribcage. Your eyes stayed locked on the doorway leading to the stairs as you forced yourself to walk slowly. Your shoulders relaxed, pace unhurried and movements languid, as if you were just enjoying the party and milling about.

“I know that sweetheart, I’m not going up there for you,” Dean said with a chuckle. Adding a dramatic pause to give you that boyish grin that always made your stomach fill with damned giant eagles, since you’d used up your supply of butterflies in the first 6 months of working with the man.

“I’m here for the poor fool who tries to mess with you,”

Smiling in spite of yourself, you let out a breathless laugh at words meant as a nod to your first proper meeting with the weapons specialist and former special forces soldier. Not really a Hollywood movie meet cute, but a favorite memory of yours nonetheless.

He’d been the one they’d sent to recruit you to the modern day Robin Hood crew, and you’d been… Kinda jumpy back then. Constantly being on the run from the mafia, Interpol, FBI and God knows who else, did that to a girl. So, instead of exchanging business cards you’d kinda, sorta… Flipped him flat on his back and threatened to flatten his pretty face with an ancient bronze statue. That gaudy piece of ancient art had been heavy as fuck. Though it was nothing of extreme value of course.

You’d been paranoid, not stupid.

Things had luckily calmed down fast enough once you recognized him from previous run-ins. And, instead of actually breaking his nose, which should be considered a crime in and of itself, ‘cause damn… You’d talked things through and you’d finally let him up from where you’d pinned him to the ground. Still, Dean never let you forget that you actually got the drop on him. Though he was never upset about it, more impressed, considering his own impressive track record.

“You’d know wouldn’t ya?” You shot back with a small smirk. Leaning against the wall; you pretended to be enjoying a more private conversation by the stairwell while you waited for an older couple to pass by. Just barely stopping yourself from shooting the older woman an annoyed glare as she clearly admired Dean’s ass in the tailored designer slacks.

“Oh, yes… I definitely would,” Dean’s words were punctuated by a wink and oh God… That sexy motherfucker was trying to kill you, you were sure of it.

The whole night was just an elaborate assassination attempt. Warning bells were ringing in your ears as the poor crew manning your brain ran for their lives before the imminent implosion that was sure to follow as your heart beat loudly enough to show up as soundwaves in your eyes. Which you, not so sneakily, tried to hide by checking if the coast was clear.

Focus.

Forcing out a small laugh you set your plan into motion and moved up the stairs at a pace that made it seem like you belonged up there.

Not too slow, and not too quick. Just like they taught in thief school. If there was such a thing as a thief school... Hell, even if there was, you'd probably be expelled the first damned day. Considering how often your brain jumped to Dean instead of shiny sparkly treasures lately. And considering that you’d never really been good at sitting still, listening to authority figures, listening at all really, or paying attention to anything for more than two minutes at a time.

Or, hell, math… You hated maths.

As Dean followed you up, keeping close and at the same time ensuring no one saw you, you steeled your heart for your alone time with the perfect freaking specimen of a man. Taking a deep breath, you tried your hardest to turn off the part of your brain that was inexplicably tied to your heart in what was possibly God’s idea of a stupid prank on the human race.

Find the safe, that was all you had to focus on. Find the goddamned safe and then act out the entire library of love struck teenage movie scenes and the more R-rated extras in your mind when you were safe and sound back in your room at the bunker.

It shouldn’t be that hard. You were a professional after all. You’d been in the business for a very long time.

Yeah, you got this...

If only you could stop thinking about the fact that the bedrooms were probably up there too. Egyptian cotton bed sheets that were just begging for someone to mess them up.

Fuck, you didn’t have this; you were screwed. Thoughts like those were exactly why you’d worked alone before joining the team.

Safes, not bedrooms. Safes.

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karatekels · 8 months

Text

Fresh Start - Day 7

AHH so much happens here, and it's all over the place, and I hope you all enjoy!

Days 4 & 5 | Day 6 | Future updates posted below!

---

Day 7

You scowl down at your bed, where you have laid out all of the clothes you had brought with you to L.A.. You don’t know why you’re still weighing your options; you know you don’t have anything nice enough to wear tonight. Granted, you don’t think you could wear anything that would make you look the part of someone who knows someone who can afford to rent out an art museum for an evening on a day’s notice.

You didn’t want to embarrass Terry by not dressing for the occasion, and resign yourself to a day of shopping. Terry had texted you the night before to confirm your plans for this evening. You reread your conversation while in your Uber, heading to the shopping district:

Does 8:30 work for you tomorrow evening?

Sounds great! Looking forward to it 😊

Would you like to join me for dinner beforehand? I know a great place.

Will you let me pay this time?

Not a chance. My age and values won’t allow it.

What if I say no? :P

Are you always this difficult?

Usually!

Dinner sounds lovely Terry, thank you.

Don’t expect any wine, though. You’re still on probation.

Whatever you say, Terry.

The address to the restaurant was the last thing he sent, and you look over the menu again, trying not to wince at the prices. Clearly money was no object for him, and he seemed to enjoy spending it on people other than himself, but it was still a hard pill for you to swallow. You didn’t like being in situations where you felt like you had nothing to offer, the imbalance throwing you off.

The Uber driver pulls up to the curb, announcing your arrival and keeping you from dwelling on the issues of your relationship with Terry. Thanking him, you hop out and face the designer stores that lined Rodeo Drive. The least you could do was try to look the part for him.

--- Terry’s POV ---

Terry sits in a secluded booth in the restaurant that evening, waiting for your arrival and trying not to fidget. This sense of nervousness was unfamiliar to him, and he doesn’t think he likes it. Twisting his signet ring on his finger absently, he gives himself a mental pep talk.

A grown man pushing seventy did not get butterflies on a date.

This wasn’t a date.

This was him testing the waters, seeing how you would fit into his world.

This was him trying to convince you that being in his world, by his side, was exactly where you wanted to be; no, needed to be.

“Hi, Terry.” Your voice beside him breaks him out of his reverie. Years of etiquette training kicking in, he stands to greet you and gives you a brief hug, pleased when you wrap your arms around him again. Since you had initiated the hugging, he intended to take advantage of it until you indicated otherwise.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he says, his voice slightly huskier than normal. He releases you from his embrace, taking notice of your appearance for the first time this evening.

You take his breath away.

You have truly outdone yourself, in a deep blue chiffon dress. The fabric hugs your body while still being modest, the jewel neckline concealing your chest and the dress cinching in at your waist, the skirt flowing down past your prominent hips to brush the floor. You seem a couple of inches taller, so he assumes you’re wearing heels, and your hair frames your face elegantly, your lovely natural features highlighted with makeup.

You are the most spectacular thing he has ever seen. You must have purchased this outfit and gotten dressed up just for him, and the realization fills him with desire; desire to get you out of this dress, desire to drape you in the finest fabric and jewels money can buy, desire, desire, desire.

“You look incredible, my dear,” he says with a smile that widens as he detects a trace of a blush dusting your cheeks as you take a seat across from him.

“Thank you, Terry,” you reply with a shy smile. “I did my best to be on par with you,” you add cheekily, looking him up and down in a way that brings his nerves back. Perhaps you were closer to his way of thinking than he thought…

---

You both finish the main course and your plates are cleared, leaving just your wine glasses and the half-empty bottle on the table. He had insisted on the wine immediately, though not without several jokes about your ability to handle your alcohol that you took in stride. Terry is pleased with how comfortable you’re becoming around him, and how he feels the same way being in your presence. It had been a long time since he had someone around that was so easy to talk to, especially without them being in his employ.

Over the course of the evening, he’s noticed you picking up on the looks that the two of you are getting from other restaurant patrons, and even members of the staff. Terry hasn’t commented on it, interested in how you would respond, and if you would respond. If he got his way, you would be out in public with him regularly, and he would make it very evident that your relationship was romantic in nature. If you weren’t able to handle people staring at your due to the age difference between you, that would complicate things.

“I wish people wouldn’t do that,” you comment irritably as another couple walks past, glancing between the two of you with dirty looks.

“Do what?” he asks with an innocent smile. You spear him with a glare.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you grumble, and he raises an inquisitive eyebrow, silently pushing you to elaborate. “People making assumptions about our relationship, like it’s any of their business.”

“Does it upset you, that people think we’re together?” he asks with a smirk and trying to pass the question off as a half-joke. Internally, however, he’s braced himself for your answer.

“Not that we’re together,” you clarify, swirling your wine around your glass as you think of your words, and his spirits soars at this response. “Just that I’m some gold digger, or an escort or something,” you add, wrinkling your nose in a way Terry finds adorable.

“Does it upset you? People judging you based on assumptions like that?” you ask him, and his heart warms at your genuine concern; you look like you’re about to jump out of your seat and smack one of the people staring if he voiced any degree of displeasure about it.

“Not overly. I’ve learned to tune it out over the years,” he replies with a shrug. As much as he would enjoy setting you off – you were so fiery – he couldn’t have you making a scene in a restaurant. And it was true; he’d been glared at and worse practically his entire adult life, either for some scandal at DynaTox or his romantic life, if you could call it that.

“I don’t think I could ever get over it,” you admit, seeming disappointed in yourself. “This is only the second time I’ve been in public with you and I feel like some hated animal in a zoo!”

“A hated animal?” he asks, tilting his head at you and seeking clarification.

“Well… yeah. If people aren’t looking at me like I’m scum for seducing someone for their money, then they’re glaring at me because they’re jealous, like the servers at the café yesterday.”

“Oh, was that why?” he asks, feigning surprise. “I just assumed you had kicked them all on your way in. You were in a foul mood yesterday.” You giggle despite your attempts to scowl at him, and he’s glad you don’t seem too put out by the attention he receives from other women, though he imagines jealousy would be a fun colour to see on you.

“I would never!” you gasp in mock offence, placing your hand over your heart. You drop the act after a moment, frowning slightly as you lean your chin on one palm. “I just wish there was a way to get people to think before they judge people…”

Your server comes by with the bill, leaving to fetch the credit card machine, interrupting your conversation.

“Do you trust me, Terry?” you ask him once you’re alone at the table once more, a mischievous look in your eye that sends a rush of blood below his belt.

“Yes, but I’m a bit afraid to based on that look in your eye,” he replies, and you grin wickedly.

“Does your card have tap?” you ask quietly, and he nods, confused. “Slip it into the book without anyone seeing you and slide it to me.”

Terry Silver had never been one to obey orders from anyone other than John, but he doesn’t hesitate, feeling a thrill go through him as he follows your instructions. Your eyes look over his shoulder, and you snatch the book from his hand, retrieving the credit card and tapping it impatiently against the table as though it was your own as the server returns.

You pay the bill with his card, keeping your eyes on Terry the entire time, drinking him in with your eyes with a slight smirk on your face. He finds himself feeling more than a little hot under the collar under your gaze, and fights to keep himself from blushing, something he didn’t even think he was capable of. Dismissing the waiter without taking your eyes off of him, you stand up, mouthing at him to play along.

“Well, come on.” you cluck your tongue at him impatiently, pitching your voice to carry to the nearby tables. “I still have –” you pretend to check the time on your phone. “– 72 minutes with you, and I plan on making the most of them,” you purr, your voice thick with innuendo.

Terry’s jaw almost falls open. You were treating him like some sort of… gigolo?!

He’d be offended by the potential slight to his reputation if he didn’t find the situation so damn entertaining, watching the other patrons react to the charade of you wining and dining him. He had nothing to prove to this assortment of nobodies, and it was well worth the momentary embarrassment to have you looking at him like you were now, even if it was all an act.

Terry ducks his head shyly, nodding as he quickly stands. He hadn’t played a role in so long…

“Yes, Madam. Anything you say,” he replies obediently, catching your eyes sparkling with amusement before you turn and lead him out of the restaurant, strutting past the tables like a Queen. Terry trails after you, his enthusiasm only partly a character choice.

You both manage to keep up the act until you take your seats in the back of the limo that pulls up beside you. The moment the door closes, you both burst into laughter.

“Sorry, was that too much?” you ask, wiping tears from your eyes. You hold out his credit card to him, and he takes care to brush your fingers with his own as he accepts it, placing it back in his pocket.

“Not at all, though some advance warning would have been nice,” he suggests, smirking down at you, noting with a fierce joy that you’ve chosen to sit right next to him despite the many options available to you. “I wasn’t anticipating you trying to undress me with your eyes.”

Your whole face turns red, and Terry is very amused by how little control you seem to have over your expression when you aren’t playing a character. You compose yourself after a moment, your face still flushed as you burst into another round of giggles.

“It was worth it just to see the looks on their faces!” you cackle, grinning at him maniacally. He enjoys you looking flustered, and you’ve given him plenty more ammunition to tease you with later.

“Maybe the wine was a mistake after all,” he jokes. “You’re absolutely unhinged whenunder the influence.”

You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms, and he just smiles back at you, his heart feeling lighter than he could remember it ever being.

“Pull yourself together, Madam,” he purrs the title, watching with enjoyment as your blush returns in full force. “The museum awaits.”

--- Reader’s POV ---

Terry greets the museum owner like an old friend, and you wonder again why this man is single as you look between the two of them. He was the definition of debonair, generous and funny, and he was able to make people comfortable. How could he not have found someone? It didn’t inspire much hope for you or other regular people if a handsome billionaire couldn’t find love.

He looks over to you, beckoning you forward, and introduces you to the curator who then leads you both inside. You notice that Terry keeps pace with you rather than the other woman, and feel a smile spread across your face, appreciating how he prioritizes your comfort.

“Would you like the guided tour, Mr. Silver, or do you still know your way around?” the woman asks, looking over her shoulder at you two. He glances down at you, silently asking if you have a preference, and you incline your head slightly towards him. When had you gotten so good at reading each other?

“I’ll take it from here, Diana, thank you,” he replies with a smile, and the woman nods, excusing herself and leaving the two of you in the foyer.

“You really are my own personal tour guide, huh?” you tease him, walking into the middle of the room and spinning around, hearing your voice echo through the room. He watches you with his hands in his pockets as you take in your surroundings.

“At your service as always, Madam,” he replies, bowing at you. You roll your eyes, grinning at him all the while.

“Don’t make me regret doing that,” you warn, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That was some of my best work, and I’ll be mad if I don’t get to look back at it fondly.”

“Well, we can’t have that. You’re an unholy terror when you’re mildly irritated; I can’t fathom what a temper tantrum would be like,” he mocks, cutting you off as you open your mouth to tell him off. “Alright alright, I’ll stop. Let’s give you the grand tour, shall we?” he says placatingly, gesturing towards a hallway with an arm and inviting you to go first.

“I don’t even think I would have enough money to replace all of this if you tore it down,” you hear him mutter from behind you, though he’s clearly meant for you to overhear.

“What was that?” you turn, glowering at him with your hands on your hips.

“Nothing!” he replies innocently, smiling at you broadly.

“You are on thin ice, Mr. Silver,” you growl, narrowing your eyes at him. He catches up to you, coming to a stop beside you, looking completely unabashed and making it very difficult to keep up the pretense of being upset with him.

“I’d better start making amends then,” he replies sagely, continuing to lead you into the first room of exhibits.

---

Terry is actually quite a good tour guide when he’s behaving himself. He seems knowledgeable about the art and seems to understand how to make things interesting for you, guiding you through the exhibits like a seasoned pro. You don’t know much about the history of art or artists, but you’ve always enjoyed looking at paintings and sculptures and guessing at the stories they’re trying to tell.

You’re in the final room of the museum, the walls covered in a series of landscape paintings. Places you have never been, places you aren’t sure even exist… they’re all here, and you take them in one by one as if they were windows giving you a peek at a world you are still so very unfamiliar with. You take your time with each painting, occasionally discussing something with Terry, but both of you are content to take in the art in silence.

Something about one of the last paintings catches your eye, drawing you closer to it. It’s a fairly simple painting: a mausoleum built into a small, craggy island, dark trees seeming to split it in half. A small boat approaches the island, a man sitting and rowing, a statuesque figure shrouded in white standing at the bow of the boat. It is hauntingly beautiful, and its title, “Island of the Dead” echoes this.

“This isn’t normally here,” Terry informs you, approaching you and the painting. “It’s on loan from the Met.”

“It’s so…so…” you murmur in awe, unable to find the words.

“…Sublime?” Terry finishes for you with a wry grin, and you nod silently in agreement. He’d explained the sublime to your earlier in the evening; art that overwhelms its audience with emotions that can’t be adequately put into words. It summed up this painting perfectly.

Terry leans down to whisper in your ear, his hair softly tickling your cheek. You stifle a giggle, somehow on edge from the feelings the painting has brought out of you.

“Want to know a secret?” he murmurs, his voice almost musical. You’re unsure why you’re being so quiet, seeing as you have the museum to yourselves, but play along, nodding wordlessly in response to his question. “This painting is a replica.”

Well, that hadn’t been what you’d expected him to tell you.

You turn to look up at him inquisitively, but he just gives you a smile. You approach the painting to take a closer look, trying to see if you can figure out what he’s talking about. You give up after a moment; you didn’t know much about art, after all.

“How can you tell?” you ask, looking back to him for the answer.

“The original is in my living room,” he informs you quietly, his eyes twinkling. You laugh quietly at his joke, but stop when he doesn’t join in.

“Are… are you serious?!” you ask, your jaw falling open, and he nods. “How? Why?!”

“I was drawn to it much as you were just now. I had the opportunity to purchase it and I bought it,” he shrugs nonchalantly. You turn back to the painting, your brow creased as you think this over.

“What?” Terry presses after a moment. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” You turn to him, a frown still on your face.

“I guess I just don’t understand the appeal,” you admit. “Of owning an original, I mean.”

“I was fascinated by the story behind it,” he elaborates. “This wasn’t the first time the artist painted this landscape. A wealthy widow saw the partially-completed original and commissioned the artist for a copy for herself, requesting the addition of the shrouded woman and the coffin in the rowboat to symbolize her and her late husband. Böcklin, the artist, accommodated her request, and went back and added the figures to the original painting as well as later versions of the paintings. It was a way for her to join him in death, but also keep him alive, I suppose.” Terry’s soft voice trails off. “Their love transcended death, and made a tangible change in the real world, if only on canvas.”

“That’s such a beautiful story,” you sigh, the painting even more beautiful to you now. “But I still don’t understand why it makes you want to own the original. The stories behind the art or told through the art aren’t limited to the originals, right? What’s the difference?”

“Perhaps I want to own the story as well,” Terry murmurs, giving you a slightly sad look with a sigh. “Or perhaps one of my vices is collecting rare and beautiful things.”

You’re not sure how to respond, but Terry doesn’t give you a chance to, smiling down at you like he’s trying to physically lighten the mood.

“It’s getting late. I would feel better if you would let me drop you off at your hotel rather than you taking an Uber at this time of night. Would you be comfortable with that?”

“Yes, Terry,” you respond immediately, wanting to comfort and reassure him. Something about your conversation about the painting had thrown him off, and you felt bad about it. “I trust you.”

--- Terry’s POV ---

The limo has nearly reached your hotel, the two of you enjoying a quiet yet comfortable ride home. You had started to doze off halfway through the trip home, and as you leaned your head on his shoulder, Terry found himself grateful for the horrible congestion of L.A.’s roads, doing everything in his power to ensure he didn’t jostle you.

Still, he couldn’t let such an opportunity pass him by, taking the time to study your face. You appear far more relaxed in sleep, only a slight crease between your brows visible; he hopes you aren’t plagued with thoughts of tensions back home in your dreams, at least. His fingers itch to brush away the curl of hair that has fallen across your face, but he knows he can’t risk it, settling for watching it flutter slightly as you breathe deeply.

He tries not to think about the fact that your time here is now half over, and that as of yet, no further plans have been made to spend time with you. The primal, possessive part of him wants to message the driver, telling him to change course and drive off into the night so that he could keep you here with him, just like this, forever.

But it was still too early. Sure, a lot of progress had been made this evening, and Terry believes he has garnered quite a bit of your trust, that you were at least partially on the same wavelength. This was when he needed to be the most cautious – if he struck too early, or too hard, you would be overwhelmed by his confession, and he would lose you for good.

He’d have to plan later; for now, he wanted to focus on your soft, warm body against his side and memorize every detail. Closing his eyes, he considers feigning sleep, giving him an excuse to rest his cheek on the top of your head…

The limo hits a pothole, jostling you back into consciousness. Terry tries to appear relaxed, unsure of what reaction to expect as you blink sleepily for a moment, taking in your surroundings.

“OH!” you exclaim, noticing that you’ve snuggled against him and jumping back, your eyes wide and your face reaching a new shade of scarlet. “I’m sorry Terry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep!”

“You seemed comfortable,” he replies casually, deciding how best to play the moment off. “Plus, I was far too scared to wake you; let sleeping dogs lie, and all that,” he teases, your glare losing its potency as you fight back a yawn. He really hopes he’ll wake up with you looking this adorable one day.

“Are you calling me a dog, Terry Silver?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.”

The limo conveniently pulls up to the curb in front of your hotel. Terry tries to imagine what you’re thinking as you look between him and the door of the limo but still isn’t sure; if tonight had proven anything to him, it’s that you were full of surprises.

“Thank you for everything, Terry. I had a great time, mockery notwithstanding,” you say, managing to strike a balance between gracious and cheeky in the way that only you can, and shyly slide across the seat towards him, wrapping him in a hug.

“It was my pleasure, Y/N,” he croons, his nose subtly taking in the scent of your hair as he returns the embrace. “I do hope I’ll see you again before you leave,” he admits, hoping that his honesty comes off as sweet rather than pathetic.

“Of course you will, Terry,” you respond, seeming surprised by the statement, and his heart skips a beat. “I wouldn’t leave before saying goodbye to my only friend here!”

Your smile is so genuine that it nearly eradicates the slight pain brought on by your use of the word friend to label him, and he smiles back, shooing you with a hand as you step out of the limousine and into the hotel room. The driver pulls away from the curb, heading home, and Terry sighs deeply, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over him.

The sublime has transcended art, Terry thinks to himself, for once unconcerned with being a cliché.

Transcended art and manifested itself in your soul.

---

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #eventual smut #fresh start

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