#i just think it’s funny that people so blatantly decided to ignore that

[bread-of-death]

We love to see absolutely everyone wit their license absolutely ignoring the ‘no backing into parking spaces’ rule

#bread hates school #i don’t care as long as they’re actually capable of doing it #i just think it’s funny that people so blatantly decided to ignore that #and holy shit this entire time I thought that was a student who just parked a few spaces over #nope #teacher in student parking lol #go away y’all have your own parking that doesn’t get crowded as fuck #I’d actually really like to see a teacher get towed for not having a parking pass #or rather- get the boot put on their car #the school doesn’t tow cars #probably too expensive #bruh is that is not a parent that just pulled up next to me with their kid #good luck leaving lol #there is absolutely a huge line of traffic #and lord knows these kids aren’t gonna let her out of the parking lot lol #ne ways #everyone is braindead lol

[pinkieloveheartpastel]

Once again, people don’t actually care about black women. Because when it comes down to it, they will do everything in their power to shift the focus onto something else in order to ignore the truth.

“Rap making you uncomfortable doesn’t mean you have to avoid it” are you fucking serious? Black women CAN’T avoid it. We have to deal with misogynoir every single day and then hear about it in the majority of rap music. And then witness black women being beaten and nobody doing a damn thing about it. wtf is this shit. What you see as “just rap music” is the reality of MANY black women.

We are constantly raped, beaten, spat at, called all kinds of slurs, killed, and you want me to NOT be uncomfortable when I hear shitty rap music reinforcing violence against black women? Fuck you and fuck everyone who agrees with you.

—————————

EDIT May 29th, 2024:

• Wasn’t long before some FUCKIN LOSER would reblog this ignoring what I said and instead talking about how all rap music is shit and isn’t art, so let me make this perfectly fucking clear, since nuance isn’t a thing any-fucking-more.

Fuck you too and all the rest of the racist trash you’re with. As a person who writes rap music myself, I criticize rap music because rap music is something I’m very passionate about, besides metal and rock, and I enjoy finding rap artists who aren’t bigoted. I criticize shit because I care and I want to see things change. Not because I think all rap music is trash. Tf??? I also find comfort in listening to rappers who don’t think my entire existence deserves violence, but whatever.

Criticizing a genre is not the same as declaring a whole entire genre trash, and it pisses me off that I always have to clarify shit because y’all just come out of the woodwork salivating at the chance to be racist and ignorant and just all around insufferable.

But if I criticize metal for its history of racism and misogyny (there are, apparently, still so many white supremacists in black/death metal, for example.), oh no, it’s only because of the people in it, not the genre itself. Funny how nuance shows up there but not in rap.

And rap music is, in fact, art. It is poetry like every other genre of music. It’s another way to make music, and every lyric written is a form of poetry. Always has been. To not recognize that is to be blatantly ignorant for the sake of being racist. The point is to not use rap as a way to promote shitty behavior, which bleeds into real life.

If you refuse to read the OTHER FUCKING POSTS (including one I made on my alt blog about how I became alternative) that I had mentioning a few rappers that I actually liked, as well as realize that I said majority rap and not all rap music, and instead decide to take the word nuance and shove it so far up your ass you forget it even exists, then you were already lost and I’m fucking tired. Nowhere did I say all rap music was trash. But I bet you already knew that and just wanted an excuse to be racist and generalize a whole entire genre.

SO AGAIN.

Barkaa (Australian Blak Indigenous Rapper) (I especially love her songs For My Tittas, Blak Matriarchy, and Bow Down)

Cinnamon Babe (Black, Metal and Rap artist) (My favorite songs from her are The Man and Bad Dog)

Raja Kumari (Indian American Rapper) (My favorite songs are NRI, The DON, Goddess, City Slums, etc)

Tkay Maidza (Zimbabwean-Australian Rapper) (Beautiful singer and rapper)

ALT BLACK ERA (Black British Rappers, also teenagers)

Delilah Bon (White British Rapper) (My favorite song from her is WITCH, as well as many other songs like Dead Men Don’t Rape)

[nightgoodomens]

I am very sorry but this was in the back of my mind and i just have to say it. It'll never be not funny to me how he talked about egg and chips with more passion than the mother of his children💀 (let alone David who clearly has his own place, the difference is so sky high it's unfair to compare.)

It's really disappointing how some decide to neglect and deny themselves the joy, from one of the most loving relationships out there just for the reason that it doesn't fit into society's norm boxes. Instead they drag the standards embarrassingly low, because they refuse to let go of the perfect image they crafted out of thin air or any modicum of truth.

Sometimes it makes me scarred to live in a society where "goals" for a healthy, happy relationship is reduced to diplomatic answers, we didn't want this but you meet who you meet ( uncanny resemblance to another couple iirc), unhappy content due to cameras being pushed into your face or tasteless insults in a medium you know they can't (or won't,due to dignity) get back at you. How can you say "love" when the man went out of his way to say "because of how we felt about each other" instead of simply saying now we love each other.

I think when he talked about that arrangement it was the only time there was no light in his eyes… With David he was shining, other questions you could see he was having fun too.

We know this fandom was in much denial for a while, but we have reached the point where they even pretend things aren’t there (Neil saying David and Michael are in love) yet saying they can see Michael and Anna are in love (a word Michael refuses to use for her yet easily gives to David, multiple times). They have created their own fantasy. And it’s extra funny because “shippers” are the bad guys basing their views on actual things that are said and the body language etc, whereas “real fans” now actually need to ignore things and put words in Michael’s mouth to keep their fantasy going. They don’t see how weird it is that AL is spending her day on social media looking for validation from strangers either. They don’t see how depressed David is looking and how GT is giving them break up songs. They don’t see DT growing more and more annoyed with GT acting more and more like a paparazzi. They don’t see GT blatantly undermining David’s accomplishments, or insulting him. They don’t see Michael looking sad in the selfies with just AL. They don’t see that it’s a different world if you switch to MS/DT instead. They ignore that it was said that the men are boyfriends. They ignore that Neil told them the men are still in love. They have an excuse for everything. Yet we are the ones making stuff up?

I do think there is some sort of irony in Michael and David starting their relationships with women in a very similar way. And I wonder if this is why David dislikes Anna so much, because seeing this shit playing out in front of him, with someone he deeply cares about, must sting.

Sometimes when I watch this fandom and their choice to use denial so bluntly… it kind of puts in perspective why so many people are in unhappy relationships and why so many people have relationships/marriages falling apart… A lot of people struggle with seeing what’s right in front of them. A bit extra, but you know how politicians can get people to believe lies so easily? Because they know people are gullible. A lot of people struggle to think for themselves and will join collective, sheep thinking to be part of the group. A lot of people are scared to say “actually…”. It’s easier to be part of a group. And some people simply are not capable of analysis. Especially when you give them what they want to see - Brexit is such a fantastic evidence on how you fool half of the country because majority of people do not think for themselves or check evidence. And if you give them what they want to hear? You’re in.

#NightGoodOmens talks PR #NightGoodOmens talks Michael and David

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Why did you get doxxed?

Are you still accepting commissions at the moment? Would someone really go after me if I purchased a commission from you?

So long story made slightly less long: I'll call the person behind the dox Angery since I don't know their real name and they have multiple accounts and burners.

There's a blog on here who said something Angery disagreed with and thought was distasteful. I have no idea what it was, I just know about it because Angery has been sending dox of this blog and other users who reblog from her in the hopes that we'll spread the message and believe them at face value that this user is a rape apologist. Again I have no idea where the accusation comes from because all I and others receive is JUST this person's dox and accusations from Angery.

So I don't post the dox of someone I barely know online that was given to me by a total stranger. I also make a post saying that doxing as a weapon of self righteous retribution over Tumblr beef is cringe. And because I "supported" the blog Angery didn't like instead of mindlessly spreading their dox and grabbing a pitchfork, Angery doxed me and are spreading MY dox to people saying without any meaningful evidence that I'm a supporter of a rape supporter. Supporter-ception, if you will.

I don't live at the address posted but that doesn't matter to me. I still believe doxing as a weapon is cringe, and I still don't even know where the fuck the accusation comes from of the original blog being a rape supporter. I try to ignore all the messages Angery sends from their sock accounts unless it's to archive them in case they decide to do something illegal, even when they're funny. Like I can't confirm it's them since they're on anon and usr a VPN, but I think one time they sent an anon request about a topic I said I wasn't comfortable covering (I want to say it was about eating disorders or suicide or smth). I don't know what reason they'd have for that and I don't know it was really Angery who sent it, but the idea is kind of funny lol.

I don't know if they'd try to go after someone who commissions me, since they have enough info to potentially find what accounts I use for transactions and go after anyone associated with it. Though in order to get a look at that info they'd be crossing the line into illegal activity by accessing a financial account that isn't theirs, and they're not reckless enough to do something that blatantly illegal (as opposed to doxing and email harassment which is much more of a grey area). But I'd rather not risk it so for the time being I'm not comfortable soliciting commissions.

Anyway remember to use a VPN whenever you're online just out of basic safety and be careful about what info you post publicly! Don't be lazy and complacent like I was lol

#like initially i worried about the ppl at that address so i gave them a heads up about potentially random messages calling me a super bad #evil supporter of a supporter of a supporter of a rape supporter over fanfic smut #but shits fine for now #some of the email newsletters they signed me up for are actually interesting #did yk there was a death in a mine recently in the US? shits nuts #the original message they sent should be somewhere in my .sneed tag

[dragynkeep]

random to you question (not to me I saw a thing and it irked me... the person also said that the list in season 4 was eugenics- they made no mention of the grounders doing similar and its a lot of the usual bull one bit made me laugh though and they said clarke panicked and killed all the innocent people in mount weather the imagery is funny and stuff and there was another bit that made laugh which was basically Raven would be a better leader and Clarke is just incompetant) would season 1/2 clarke (before lexa one the worst leaders of the show got in her head*) have tried to force the stupid glorified usb stick on Luna? because I think NOT that was one of the most culty bullshit things they had Clarke say (take the flame its your destiny) and I just hate it so much

sorry to keep bugging you with random t100 things I'm trying to pysche myself up for a rewatch to remind myself of the shit (better prepared so i can properly analyise it and make a tally everytime lexa mentions dying) but can't do it I will do it if I can also play a certain game which is the one where the main characters 6 month old daughter gets kidnapped by a cult (split into four) to be used as a cult leaders dead child (same game people kidnap locals to be used in experiments some turn into monsters and others are just lunch) and the main character in both gets taken out for killing the bad guys

"raven would be a better leader" raven, the one who didn't want to make any of the hard choices — unless it was torturing lincoln to get information on how to save finn & then wanting to make the monumentally stupid decision of getting clarke to try & kill lexa to again save finn, ignoring how it would get them all killed? that raven? the raven that blatantly said to clarke "you're the one who chooses who lives & who dies", only to finally have to make that decision seven seasons in & she crumbles & falls apart so clarke has to put her back together?

yeah that's just ridiculous. raven has never been leadership material because she would have no one else to blame when things didn't go her way & clarke couldn't be her verbal & physical punching bag.

as for the cult aspect of the grounder's religion: i don't think pre lexa clarke would've tried to force the chip into luna's head, mostly because she was still very much critical of stuff like this & had not yet been indoctrinated into it by racoon coochie. clarke was very much willing to go against the establishment as seen from her defining, opening moment in how she ended up in confinement.

with the list "being eugenics", there was a sketchy element of how clarke was choosing who would go onto this list but she is at that point an 18 year old girl having to decide out of hundreds who would be the select few to survive. i doubt that intent was there & more clarke was trying to struggle through yet another trolley problem for her.

considering this is consistently held against her while actual eugenics in the grounders rounding up all the children with a specific blood so they can all die in a ritualistic cult murder spree to decide who will become the next religious leader is deified in the fandom, i wouldn't take it too seriously.

always feel free to bug me about t100 stuff, i never get to talk about it enough ✨

#the 100 #clarke griffin #anti raven reyes #anti lexa #anti grounders #ais.txt #answered #q

[albatmobile]

The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 4

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for Roy and Jason's child.

𓅪 Rated: E | TW: attempted SA mention (just dialogue) | 15.2k  includes: skipping class to hang w the seniors, jayroy x reader motorcycle orgasm, Jayroy saving u from a creep, Damian paints u like one of his French girls jk kinda tho

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter Four: She's a Riot | ao3 - wattpad

THEN 

It’d been weeks into your first term at Gotham Academy when Jason first appeared in your Honors English course. You watched with wide eyes as his signature skunk-stripe bobbed its way to the back corner of the room with his scarred face partially hidden in a book.

You sighed in relief at the sight of the familiar face in a class that was mostly filled with older, mean kids. Sure, in art you had Damian, but every other class? Yeah, not so lucky. 

Before you could second guess yourself, you got up from your desk to plop down in the seat next to him, though he didn’t stir from his book, leaving you to second-guess your decision. After all, your first meeting hadn’t necessarily been the greatest. 

With him still ignoring you, you decide to be the one to break the ice. “Aren’t you a junior?” 

You’d overheard whispers in the hallway about the ‘new Wayne kid’ and assumed it to be the angst-king you’d met at the manor. 

“Don’t remind me,” Jason sighed and marked his place in Catcher and the Rye as he answered you. “The boarding school I was at wasn’t able to transfer over certain courses, so I’ve been held back a few years in certain subjects.”

A few years? “How old are you then?” 

His green eyes danced mischievously with your curious ones. “17. I should be a senior.”

“Oh, wow.” You couldn’t imagine being held back that many years and still being able to put forth a good effort. “That sucks.”

“Eh, I’ve already read the books on the syllabus, so that helps some,” he shrugged while you scrambled to look at the list of required books for the course. You’d only read two out of the six, but it was still something.

“You’ve read Little Women?” you move your finger to the next line and read it off. “The Odyssey?” 

“Of course, they’re iconic,” you snorted at his response. And to think his brothers actually had the audacity to call you the nerd. 

“The Odyssey is pretty good for some ancient poems,” you admitted, but it was an understatement. The Odyssey had been one of your favorites due to its roots in Greek mythology.

Jason looked amused, “I think they’re considered epic.” 

“Sure, however you want to describe it,” you waved him off as you set out your math notebook from last year that you were reusing. There were still a decent amount of blank pages to use before you’d need to get a new one, anyway.

“You’re funny,” he scooted his desk closer to you and from here, you’re better able to see deep-set scars scattered across his face. You didn’t want him to notice you staring at them, though so you quickly glanced at his mouth instead. Wait- that wasn’t any better, you thought as you came face-to-face with his plump, sharp-angled lips. “I think you and I are going to be the only competent people in this class,” he acted like he was letting you in on a secret. “First project’s due in two weeks. Wanna team up?” 

You, competent? Him, hot? Okay, yes. You were in

“Sure.” 

He seemed nice enough and you needed an outstanding GPA to keep your scholarship here, so the more help you got, the better. Plus, he’d already read the books? Definite bonus.

“Cool,” you blushed at his deep voice.

Even just the casual nature of him splayed out in his chair had you fanning yourself with your notebook. He was so… ugh. 

Perfect.

His half-lidded eyes regard you as if he was about to fall asleep while you continued to blatantly eye him up. 

He was angry, hot and had scars. Not to mention the sexiest eyes you’d ever seen, but he was older. Out of reach. 

You belittled yourself for even considering chasing after the naive butterflies that fluttered around your stomach at the sight of the Adonis at the desk next to you alone. Thankfully the butterflies didn’t have to stick around too long as your English teacher began going over the project, forcing you to focus in. Well, somewhat…

For the next 54 minutes, you caught yourself stealing glances at Jason’s stoic build out of the corner of your eye up until the bell rang. Student's chatter instantly bubbled over your teacher’s final remarks as they packed up for their next class. 

Jason leaned over, invading your space with his musky scent as you stowed your notebook away, “We should meet up after school.” 

Damian hadn’t mentioned anything about you coming over, but you didn’t think he’d mind.

“Sure.” With Tim and Damian being brothers and Jason’s residency at the manor, you didn’t think it’d be out of the question to assume that Jason was another one of Bruce’s wards. It was for this reason you mentioned your locker being next to Tim’s. It’d been enough for Damian to know where you were talking about, but as evidenced by the confused look on Jason’s face, you’d been mistaken.

“Yeah, I don’t know where the fuck that is, babe,” you blushed at the nickname. “Me and Timmy don’t really get along much.” 

Well then. 

“He’s pretty nice,” you insisted while slinging on your backpack. Jason just rolled his eyes, following suit before motioning you out of the classroom ahead of him. “No, really. He always says hi to me and stuff.” 

“That’s a pretty high bar you got there,” he seemed just to be following you, so you headed to your next class with Jason in tow.

You laughed, realizing too late how pathetic that had sounded, “After my first few weeks here, you have no idea.”

Jason screaming at you in the manor had truly been nothing compared to the insults and rumors your classmates slung your way each day.

“What does that mean?”

You dodged his question easily, “Don’t you have a class to go to?” 

“No,” he shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Me and Roy are ditching to get something to eat.”

Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Who’s Roy?” You kind of remembered hearing that name at Star City, but he had been a high schooler at the time you’d been in middle school there. Probably wishful thinking, you thought to yourself. After all, there was obviously more than one Roy in the world.

“My friend,” he looked down at you with amusement. 

“Cool,” he laughed at your imitation of him earlier in class, leaving you to blush at being caught. 

“Sure, kid,” he sighed at your responding glare. “And don't try to tell me you’re not a kid when you’re the same age as that demon brat.” You assumed he was talking about Damian for, well, obvious reasons. 

“Would a kid know to make fun of you for reading Alcott?” You countered with a pointed brow. 

“Okay, fuck off,” he chuckled a bit. “Where’s this class you’re headed to anyway?” 

You faltered in your steps. “Should be in this wing,” you paused, looking around at the surrounding doors. “Maybe down this hallway?” 

Damn, you’d taken the wrong hallway again and ended up lost. It happened at least once a week, at this point, in the maze that was Gotham Academy.

“Alright, so what I’m hearing is you don’t appreciate classic literature, or know shit in general,” you gaped at him. “And now we’re both lost,” he sighed in tandem with the late bell ringing. The two of you watched as the last stragglers slipped away and disappeared into their classrooms. His pocket vibrated and he produced his cell phone to answer the call with an annoyed, “What?” you didn’t know whether to stay with Jason or continue looking around for your class, so you elected to awkwardly stand off to the side as Jason narrated to someone, likely Roy, your current location. “We should wait here,” you nodded at his statement, not really knowing what else to do. Jason shifted to lean against the hallway wall closest to you and you dropped your heavy Batman bag to the floor with an echoing thud. “You carrying a dead body in there or something?”

You gave him an odd yet amused look, “Because that’s the most logical thing I’d be carrying around in this tiny-ass backpack,” he shrugged, once again looking down each end of the hallway you were in. “Doesn’t your dad own this school, or something? How are you lost?”

Jason’s glare settled over you immediately, causing you to inadvertently step backward into the wall. “First off, he’s not my dad,” you nodded hastily until he dropped his glare. You hadn’t even realized you’d held your breath until his green eyes looked back down at his phone. “Second, he just funds the school. At least I think. I don’t know. I haven’t been around much until recently,” you gave him a quizzical look. “Boarding school and all,” he mumbled. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” you said. He at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed for blowing up on you. “I mean, everyone has their daddy issues.” That much could be said for you- well, parent issues. Neither of them were around enough to check in on you, let alone to care that you existed. “I get that.”

“Cool.” 

You dropped the topic and smiled lightly at what seemed to be becoming an inside joke between the two of you. 

“For sure,” he smiled back at you and, this time, it seemed genuine. That was a relief. The last thing you wanted was to be on his bad side again. 

Soon enough, over-styled, familiar red hair came into view complete with an untucked uniform and loosened tie. 

“Yoo! I know you,” he threw up his arm and waved at you. “Us Star City kids gotta represent!” Once he got close enough, he stuck out towards you for a hand for a low high-five. 

You lightly tapped his opened hand with a grin, “Hey, Roy.”

“I thought I saw you around the halls,” he said your name. “I was stoned out of my mind, though, so I wasn’t too sure.” 

“Really?” you looked at him doubtfully, not bothering to touch the stoned part. “I’m surprised you even remember me, to be honest.” 

You’d never talked, having only seen him hanging around the cafeteria sometimes after school, if that. It was possible you’d seen a tuft of his red hair sticking out of the crowd at the occasional football game if you bothered to go, but with no friends, it wasn’t really worth the trek or the $10 ticket. 

“Still have the prettiest eyes, princess,” he shrugged nonchalantly from in front of you and Jason with a wicked glint in his light green eyes. “That’s how I knew it was you,” you gulped, not sure how to respond to his blatant flirting. It was one thing to tease Damian, but Roy and Jason were older and you had to be more careful. “What are you doing around these parts anyway?” Roy asked, ushering you and Jason into the hallway opposite your current one. 

Jason wordlessly picked up your backpack like it weighed nothing and slung it around his free shoulder. You knew better than to try and fight him on it, so you just let him carry it around as Roy led the two of you around the labyrinth of Gotham Academy.

“I’m here on scholarship.”

“You say it like you wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Jason chimed in. 

He was right, but they didn’t need to know that. 

This was your only chance at escaping the same fate as your parents- doomed to scavenge for money by any means for the rest of their lives. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you couldn’t show it.

“I mean, truthfully, the scholarship is the only thing that would make me come to a crime-hole city like this.”

It was partially true. Gotham, even its richest parts, weren’t for the faint-hearted. Anything could happen at the flip of a coin.

“Fair enough,” Roy said as you entered a long corridor facing the back doors of the school. You’d only been back here once, but remembered enough to know that the whole back area was fenced-in by a high, cobblestone wall. 

“Where are we going exactly?” You asked as you hesitantly let them lead you out the back. 

“I thought you were ditching with us. My bad,” Roy looked to Jason, who turned at you with a questioning glance. “It’s cool. There’s no pressure, dude.”

“I forgot to mention she was looking for a classroom. It’s my fault,” Jason saw the hesitance on your face and handed you back your twenty-some-pound backpack before rubbing at his shoulder. “I don’t know where shit is to be any help.” 

“I can still show you where your class is,” Roy offered helpfully, watching as you struggled under your backpack’s hulking weight. 

Okay, skipping was definitely not up your alley, but showing up to class this late also wasn’t. 

It’s not like your parents would be there to pick up the call that you'd skipped anyway, you thought bitterly. Looking down at your phone, you anxiously noted that it was 10 minutes past the late bell and figured it was too late to show up at that point. 

“No, it’s good,” you started walking further back on the grounds to where the gardens and tennis courts were. “Jason wanted me to come, anyway,” you gave a small smirk, testing out just how much sass you could unleash on them.

“Sure,” he laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.” 

There it was again. The nickname that already had you in a chokehold.

“Where are you guys eating at?”

“Oh, yeah, food would be sweet,” Roy clapped you on the back. Not lightly, mind you. “Good idea."

“Jason said you guys were getting something to eat,” you said, stating the obvious. Had that not been their plan after all? 

"Sure, yeah," Roy tried to cover up with faux nonchalance. Jason, on the other hand, looked downright guilty. “Want to go to the diner on fifth?” 

You reached the courtyard wall, where they immediately began to climb over it, but you just stood there. The wall’s daunting height only seemed to double the longer you stared. Roy dropped back down from the top to grab your backpack before throwing it up to Jason, who sat saddled over both sides, with ease. 

Jason caught your backpack and dropped it to the other side before doing the same, just after Roy rejoined him on the top of the wall. 

“Okay, I didn’t realize skipping school involved level 20 calisthenics skills,” you brushed your sweaty hands on the front of your skirt as you finally approached the wall. 

“Video game talk, very hot. Nice, nice,” his red hair bobbed from above with his enthusiastic nods. You struggled for a bit until he started pointing out odd stones that stuck out. “Put your foot there, good,” you blushed at the insignificant praise. “Just like that.”

You were a bit over halfway up the wall when Roy offered you his right hand to pull you up. Once at the top, you held down the center of your skirt to keep it from rising before maneuvering both legs over the side so you could peer down at the ground below you. 

Below you, Jason seemed entirely entertained by the whole situation. He eventually opened his arms and motioned for you to jump. 

“Hurry up, princess,” Roy ushered from beside you. “Your chariot awaits.”

What chariot he was referring to, you didn’t know, but you did know that you didn’t want to get caught. 

“Coming, coming,” you waved Roy off, leaving him to gracefully drop to the grass below. “In the comics, they roll. Should I roll?”

“Do whatever the fuck you need to; just hurry up,” Jason motioned once again for you to jump. 

You looked behind you, then at the ground again. “Alright,” you leaped from the wall and rolled onto the grass with as much grace as a newborn bird. “Ow, okay. Rolling does nothing,” you groaned, gathering your bearings on the ground when you suddenly heard Roy clearing his throat. You peered up to see the older men pointedly avoiding your general direction. You quickly glanced down only to become mortified by the sight of your bright red Flash-themed panties on full display. “Oh, fuck me. Come on.” 

If there was a word greater than embarrassment, that’s what you were, but like times ten. Scratch that, times 100. 

You pulled down at the plaid uniform skirt, desperately shifting it back into place. You refused to meet Roy’s eyes as he extended a hand to lift you up, but you ultimately ended up taking it. 

You were pretty sure your face was going to remain red for the rest of the day and seriously considered hanging your head in shame, taking the L and just going back to class- that and never showing your face around either of them again. 

Yeah, that sounded about right. 

But you did none of that. Instead, you looked at them defensively, challenging them to say anything about what they’d just witnessed. 

Jason merely tilted his head in the direction of the parking lot, still content to avoid eye contact. He didn’t leave any room for conversation anyway. “We’re going to get caught if we stay around much longer,” you and Roy nodded, following his lead all the way to the far side of the parking lot where there were three Challengers, a station wagon and a red motorcycle. 

You silently begged whatever gods were out there that you wouldn’t be taking the death-trap. 

It was for naught. 

Jason and Roy soon sidled up next to the obnoxious crimson motorcycle that put the red of your Flash undies to shame. They beckoned you over and you obliged, albeit hesitantly. 

“Problem with the ride, kid?” Jason quirked a brow your way.

“If anything, I’m just thinking about how this adds to your whole superfluous, angsty persona,” you shrugged and continued to eye the bike with disdain.

“A true angst king then, perhaps,” Roy added.

“Indeed,” you nodded and fist-bumped, leaving Jason to roll his eyes.

“Good to know you’re both brushing up on basic ACT vocab, but can we get a move on?” Roy wasted no further time in sitting down on the bike before patting his lap.

You looked over at Roy, “Don’t you have a car or something?”

“Forgot my keys?” you glared as you let out a resigning sigh and straddled the seat, not wanting to keep Jason waiting any longer. You backed up a bit before ultimately settling down onto his lap. “Usually, Jason drives anyway. For real, though,” he said, trying to make you feel more comfortable and less like a set-up, considering you were sitting in his lap and he’d just seen your panties. 

It did help you calm down a bit.

Jason handed you his red helmet, then maneuvered to sit. His added proportions forced you backward, higher onto Roy’s lap. 

“Alrighty then, a warning next time would be great, princess,” his voice sounded restrained, leaving Jason to snicker as he continued to find the best way to sit. Huffing, he turned around to spread your thighs before turning back around and pushing his back in between them. 

You sat there stupefied; eyes wide, blush evident like a dumbass.

His touch had been brief but firm.

You were grateful the gasp you felt stirring didn’t make it past your lips. Especially when all you could feel was the leather of his jacket flush against your bare thighs where his touch still lingered. 

“Don’t suppose you have any more badass jackets lying around?” You managed around your sudden flash of arousal. 

“Ha, ha,” he toned, unamused. “Very funny,” he shifted slightly, inadvertently causing the center seam on the back of his jacket to come into contact with your seam. 

This time, you’re unable to hide your reaction as the contact leaves you arching backward into Roy. 

Being between the two of them had left you both hot and bothered and now also extremely wet. 

“I, for one, think she’s a riot,” Roy added unhelpfully. 

“Thanks, Roy,” you said, thankful for the distraction. 

You were still breathless from the dizzying leather contact in front of you and the muscular wall behind you that trapped you against it. You shook yourself out of your remaining stupor to put the helmet on to further hide your flustered state.

“Anytime,” he patted the top of your thigh where his hand had been resting. “You told us to hurry up, so come on, bro.” 

Just as Roy finished his sentence, Jason rev’ed his engine up, eliciting a huge roar as he high-tailed it out of the parking lot. 

You desperately clung to Jason’s rock-hard stomach while wrestling to keep your skirt from flapping up in the wind. From behind you, Roy howled with laughter right next to your ear at the adrenaline-inducing speed, but a sharp turn had him shutting up real fast. He then focused on wrapping both arms securely around you as Jason continued to zip around midday Gotham traffic on his bike. 

You’d lost the battle with your skirt long ago until Roy, having seen your pathetic plight, adjusted his grip. His right arm situated around your waist while the other splayed itself between your thighs to keep the offending piece of fabric at bay. “I got you.” 

All you could manage was a nod. 

The vibrations, coupled with Roy’s unfortunate-yet-fortunate hand placement, made you feel like you were in your room going at it with your vibrator.

You were glad the skirt acted as a barrier between your leaking arousal and Roy’s wrist, but it was only so thick. With the steady piling of chilling heat in the bottom of your stomach, you knew this wasn't going to end well.  

You were suddenly slammed against Roy’s forearm and into Jason's back when he came to an abrupt stop at a red light. 

“Oof!” You fell directly back onto Roy’s lap. “You’re doing this on purpose,” you growled through the helmet, assuming he’d think you were talking about the excessive speeding, but no. You were talking about the delicious friction that was about to push you to your limit. He held up his hands in faux surrender before quickly shifting them back to rev the handles as the light turned green. “JASON!” You screamed as he went from zero to round the corner at a highly illegal speed. 

Even through the helmet, you can hear his gorgeous laugh. He’s only laughing for so long as he completely blows through a speed bump, leaving the bike and all its inhabitants airborne from the shared seat. You let out a yelp as you bounced back onto Roy’s lap at the same time your chest bounced against the back of Jason’s leather jacket. 

Roy let out a pained groan at the contact. “I agree,” he mewled. In your highly aroused, nearly lucid state, your clit throbbed at the noise. “This is definitely on purpose.” 

You probably would’ve laughed along had you not been seconds away from your first, very public, orgasm on a motorcycle. 

Your shaky breath by then had fogged up your helmet, leaving you completely blind to everything around you. For some reason, this wasn’t helping your problem in the slightest and, if anything, was amplifying their obscene onslaught against you.

You attempted to shift, but were ultimately unable to find any relief from the, er… relief you were already feeling. At least, that is, until Roy smacked your thigh, holding it in place to stop any further movement from you. It was worse, a lot worse. And by worse, you meant better, a lot better for other things. 

You stilled suddenly as your eyes rolled back into your head. The vibrations, coupled with Roy’s hand on your spread thighs and your grip on Jason’s abs took control over your body. You shifted your hips forward against Jason’s back while your head fell onto Roy’s shoulder with a silent gasp. You quickly came to the realization of what you’d just done and straightened instantly in Roy’s lap to play it off.

“Can you guys stop humping each other back there for two seconds? We’re almost there.”

Your back tensed at his sudden statement and you wondered if your orgasm hadn’t been as quiet as you’d thought. There was no way, though, right? Jason was surely just joking… That had to be it.   

“Swear she just passed out, dude,” Jason and Roy cackled as you attempted to regulate your breathing. “I think your driving knocked her out, or some shit.” 

Sure, you thought, if that’s what they said happened, who were you to correct them? You glanced down to where an uncomfortable damp spot in your Flash-themed panties told the real story and made sure it stayed covered up. 

Jason hadn’t lied. Seconds later, the bike came to a lurching stop in the empty parking lot where the force of the brakes sent you and Roy pushing against Jason’s muscular back. 

“Was all of this necessary?” you asked him, still half-hanging over his shoulder from the abrupt stop. 

“Plenty, babe,” he turned his head so it was breaths away from your helmeted one with a wicked smirk and hopped down to help you get off the bike. Roy moved his hand from in between your thighs so you were free to hop off using Jason’s hand for support. “Was it really that bad?” you gave him a deadpan glare in lieu of an actual response as you returned his helmet. 

“She was shaking the entire time,” Roy answered for you, shaking with laughter as he got down too.

“I thought there was something wrong with my bike,” Jason snorted.

You hastily steered the conversation in a different direction before it got any further. “It’s all super hilarious,” you fake laughed obnoxiously before crossing your arms. “So, are we gonna go eat or what?”

“Jeez, Princess. You think you’d be a bit more mellowed out right now.”

You glanced wearily at Roy after his oddly specific comment, but refrained from any further questioning so they’d drop the topic completely. “Hangry,” You offered instead of taking the bait. “Now, let’s go,” you ushered both of them inside only to be led by them to the booth furthest in the back. The table was angled in just the right way to be able to see the diner counter and the entrance. 

You all ordered and you pulled out your phone to see a text from Damian asking why you’d missed art class. You sent back a quick reply that you’d tell him later before slipping your phone back into your backpack.

“Baby’s first skip day?” Roy motioned over to your phone. “Parents already on your back?”

“Sure.” Parents were another topic you wanted to avoid. 

Roy seemed to take the hint and offered a toast as soon as all of your milkshakes came out. “Well, cheers to your first day of delinquency.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Jason clinked his strawberry against Roy’s chocolate peanut butter and soon your own frosted glass joined in the mock celebration.

“To maybe having a few more,” you said. “Emphasis on the maybe, though,” you warned, but they were too busy slurping to pay you any mind. 

Your food arrived and you chatted more about their classes and hobbies. 

It turned out Roy was playing the same video game you’d had your eye on for a year now, so a majority of the time was spent with Roy trying to explain the plot and failing miserably, leaving Jason to correct him every other few minutes. 

“He was stoned out of his mind on that level,” Jason would butt in every few minutes or so and you’d lean in closer to hear the actual storyline per Jason.

“We should play together sometime,” you slouched down in the booth with a groan on account of your overly full stomach.

“Why not now?” Jason suggested, looking at you for permission. 

You’d all finished at that point, but you’d planned to head back to school after your long lunch. 

Now you were debating. You’d already left the school premises, so was there really any point to going back? You looked at your phone, seeing your long lunch had well extended into last period.

You gave him an affirming look, “Let’s do it.” 

You slid out from the booth to let Roy out. Meanwhile, Jason fiddled around in his leather jacket until he produced a wallet. Jason slapped a $100 on the table and gave you and Roy a look that it was not up for debate on who paid. 

A man walking in held open the door for you and Roy, but Jason, being the straggler, ended up right in the crossfire of said man’s sneeze. Jason stumbled out of the entryway with a horrified face, greeted by the sight of you and Roy cackling at his misery.

“I need a shower. No,” he shuddered as he stalked over to the two of you, “Five.”

“I’ll join you,” Roy obnoxiously wiggled his brows at Jason. “I’m so dirty, daddy.” 

Jason gawked briefly, then quickly wrinkled his nose in disgust, “Fuck off, you gay ass.” 

The two of them laughed at that, but you shut it down. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t make fun of someone for their sexuality.”

They both looked at you blankly, then at each other and grinned, “PFFT! ” 

“I’m serious,” they began to laugh to the point you ripped the helmet from Jason’s bony-fingered grip. “It’s not funny!” You stuck the helmet on your head and plopped onto the bike with crossed arms. “Lots of men are put down or unjustly feminized for being gay or bi. You guys shouldn’t perpetuate that kind of culture.” 

Roy snickered, wiping mirthful tears from his gorgeous eyes. “No, princess, you’re right,” he elbowed Jason, who’d stopped laughing soon after your statement. “Guess we don’t have to hide our undying love anymore, Jasey-poo,” he began to obnoxiously smooch at the air around Jason’s face. 

There was a sudden shift not even you could’ve been prepared for, let alone Roy.

Jason backed up, face scrunched up in disgust, “Shut up and get on the bike, Roy.”

Jason refused to meet either of your eyes. Well, not that he could even see yours through the darkened helmet visor, but even through the dark tint, you could tell Jason seemed bothered. 

You sighed internally. That’s not what you’d meant to do at all.

Roy cleared his throat, throwing on the second helmet, “You’re gonna have to get up, beautiful.” 

“Oh,” you quickly got up so Roy could sit where you’d just been, “sorry.” 

You fiddled with the oversized helmet as you sat back on his lap with a soft bounce. This time, you knew what to expect in terms of positioning, so settling onto the bike didn’t take as long nor had as many adjustments. Your clit was still tender from earlier, which made the ride back somewhat painful rather than the pleasure you’d felt earlier. 

The three of you pulled into the manor just as Tim and Stephanie were walking through the gates. 

“Yooo!” Stephanie threw a peace sign in your direction. 

“Hey!” You took off the helmet and handed it to Jason, who held out his other to help you down. 

“Don't you look all hot and bothered,” she wiggled her eyebrows, referencing the squished position between the two seniors.

The four of you chatted as you walked into the manor, where you met a confused Damian in the foyer. 

He looked surprised to see you, “You weren’t in class today.” 

You rambled a bit before Stephanie cut in.

“Trouble in paradise?” she cackled, causing her blonde tresses to bob up and down. “You should’ve seen her ride,” she obnoxiously winked at Jason, who blew past her without a word to go upstairs. 

You immediately looked at Roy, who shrugged and saluted to the other three in the room, “Fuck it, we ball.”

“What?” your head tilted in confusion. Damian seemed to be in the exact same boat. 

Roy simply tilted his head where Jason had gone, “Come on, princess.” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Damian cut Roy’s nonsense off, saying your last name in an accusatory tone. 

Well, you thought as you looked anywhere but at him, you were busy orgasming all over the back of your brother and his friend.

“I got cold feet?” 

He scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be there for you. In the class, I mean,” he quickly corrected as he looked over your shoulder to where Roy lingered, “perhaps you’d want to make up for the time we lost?”

You snorted, “Talk normal, twerp.” 

He ignored you, moving both hands behind his back, “Father will need me soon, but until then, would you want to hang out?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you looked to Roy for permission as if you needed it, but he just motioned to the two of you to follow after Jason. “I wasn’t trying to skip,” you confided as the three of you began walking up the stairs. 

“It doesn’t seem like you,” he agreed with your statement, turning to glare at Roy, who paid him no mind. “Don’t let these hooligans deflower your innocence.” 

The worst part was he was being completely serious. No, the worst part was they technically had deflowered you, albeit without knowing. 

He merely glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes as Roy howled, having to hold onto the banister for support. “Oh, my god, Damian. You’re hilarious, little dude,” his face was turning red enough to block out his freckles as he continued to howl, “Deflower, PFFT!”

“DAMIAN!” your mouth dropped open in complete shock. “What the fuck is your deal?!” 

You smacked at his shoulder. He returned the action tenfold, nearly sending you over the railing of the stairs with his brute power. You winced at the contact and hissed out an ‘ow.’ His eyes, however, remained glued to Roy’s back.

“What’s up?” Jason greeted monotonously once the three of you found him in the library.

“I thought we were gaming?” You questioned Jason, who sat on the floor with his papers spread out in front of him

“Yeah, what the hell,” Roy walked over to Jason and destroyed his organized papers by chucking his bag on the ground in front of him. “Then you ditched me to babysit, dude.”

Damian quirked a dubious brow, “More like the other way around, Harper.”

“If anything,” you concurred. 

The redhead motioned between the two of you as if it explained everything, “See what I’m talking about?”

“Sure, Roy,” Jason glanced up at you with amusement glimmering in his verdant eyes. Your cheeks heat up instantly at the contact, immediately shifting your eyes over at the copy of ‘The Odyssey’ trapped in his attractive hands. Was there any place on Jason’s body you could look at and not get flustered by? “And we need to get started on our project, so,” he motioned to the papers.

“Give me that, Todd,” Damian flipped over the book impetuously to scowl at both sides. “Purely elementary.”

“And what are you and Roy reading?” Jason challenged.

“Animal Farm?” you chimed in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “No, Lord of the Flies?”

“Don’t you join them!” Damian insisted, looking at you somewhat betrayed. Roy and Jason laughed as you comforted a distraught Damian and assure him that you’re not, in fact, ganging up against him. “It’s Grapes of Wrath, for your information.”

“Ah,” you pat him on the back. “Nature is king is a reoccurring theme. Boom, I just wrote your thesis for you.” 

“Please, we have to go more in-depth than that,” he scoffed. “It’s a lot more complex than ‘The Odyssey’.”

“How?” Jason challenged. “Different genres, different time periods. It’s completely unfair to even compare the two unless you’re just talking about them being literary classics.”

Roy leaned over to fake whisper to you, “I love it when he gets all book-wormy.” 

You nodded distractedly in agreement as you watched the literary battle between Jason and Damian roar on. 

“They’re about the plight between families, albeit for different reasons and how they’re able to overcome to ultimately come back together,” Damian said. You nodded, being able to see where his analysis was coming from. 

“Odysseus was on his own for the entire book practically,” Jason pointed out the flaw in his argument, but Damian was quick to refute it. 

“It’s a hero’s journey; of course he’s alone,” he said. “It always is a lone journey,” he gave Jason a meaningful glance that had you furrowing your brows. 

You nudged a distracted Roy. “Reminds me of Batman, to be honest," you lowered your voice into a dramatic rasp and use your arm to create a fake cape to cover the bottom half of your face, “I work alone.”

Damian wrinkled his nose, having heard you, “Please never do that again.” 

You all burst into laughter. Well, except for Roy, who was vehemently scribbling down what you assumed to be notes. Upon closer inspection, however, it all just appeared to be random, disconnected scribbles. 

He seemed to sense the weight of your eyes on him because he tried to explain, “I think I’ll actually manage to pass this year.” 

“Yeah,” you drawled, looking back down at his chicken scratch, turning your head every which way to make sense of it, “If you can ever manage to go back and decode this shit.” 

“I, for one, can read it perfectly,” he boop'ed you on the nose, leaving you to snort. 

“Hey!” Jason and Damian complained suddenly. 

You turned from Roy to see them glaring in both of your directions. 

Your eyes widened with confusion, “What?” Damian muttered something under his breath and then, out of nowhere, asked you to help him with his English homework. “Damian, you’re in Roy’s English class… Two years above me,” you reminded him. 

“Fine,” he sighed and made a demanding grab for the papers you were busy pulling out of your backpack.“I’ll help you with yours.”

“Unless you just up and do it, I can’t imagine how much help you’ll be,” you shrugged as he looked over the papers with a heavily focused look before shoving them back into your expectant hands.

“Pass,” Damian gave a curt nod before leaving you, Jason and Roy alone with a growing mountain of homework. “Enjoy these losers.”

“Keep those petals flowery, Damian,” Roy looked up from his notes to wink at Damian’s retreating form. He nudged his elbow into your arm, “Right, babe?”

“That’s my nickname for her, Roy,” Jason looked to you for an explanation but was met with you blushing at the memory of Damian’s uncalled-for comment on the stairs. 

“You’re right,” Roy smirked, turning to you. “Wouldn’t want to confuse you, now would we, princess?” he winked, leaving you to roll your eyes in return. 

You wished your cheeks would go back to their normal fucking color already, but they stubbornly refused.

“Are we actually going to work or not?” you reminded Jason of your upcoming project, but he quickly waved you off. It seemed like his priorities had changed after Damian’s appearance in the library.

“Roy, pass me the shit.” 

You raised a brow, but Roy just nodded with a coy smile before pulling out a gigantic colorful wrapped treat.

“What is that?” you skeptically eyed the treat as it was passed between the two boys. 

Jason unwrapped it, looking pointedly at Roy with a silent question, but Roy just shook his head.

“They’re edibles, dumbass.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms, “I think I like ‘babe’ better.”

“Noted,” he said, taking a huge bite and offering it your way, but you held up a hand to pass. 

Soon enough, absolutely no work had been done and the two of them had taken to fucking around with each other, making it nearly impossible to read. You tried to ignore their rambunctious laughter and rough-housing as you continued to note, but eventually, it got to be too much.

You sighed, catching both of their attention as you snapped your notebook shut. “I’m soo glad we’re partnered together on this project.” The sarcasm rolled off you in waves as they both finished off a second Rice Krispie each. Great. You continued to work on the outline you needed to complete by Friday while Jason and Roy immediately went back to reinitiating their smack-fest on the floor.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll do my fair share. It’s not like the weed is gonna stop that,” Jason reassured you, panting as he held Roy down on the floor by a fistful of his firey hair, but you were doubtful. 

In true stoner fashion, Roy butted in, face still smashed hilariously against the carpet, “Shit's less dangerous than alcohol. Don’t believe the shit they tell you about da kush.”

“Dude,” Jason shook his head at Roy’s pathetic lingo, pushing down harder on him until Roy’d had enough.

You watched half-amused, half-annoyed as Roy slammed Jason to the spot on the carpet Roy’d warmed up for him. The dumbass stopped to admire his work too long, leaving an open invitation for Jason to tackle him by the midsection to the ground below. 

“I think I’ve done enough rebellious teenage things for one day,” you admitted hesitantly, looking from the offending pot Fruity Pebble Rice Krispies Treats to the sweaty fuckers rolling around on the floor. “Besides, those don’t even look good.”

“True,” Roy panted, ignoring your last comment about the edibles as he held Jason in a headlock. “We did just break your skipping virginity.” 

They really had no idea about the true extent of virginity that had been taken from you that day, leaving a faint blush to appear at the memory of the motorcycle ride. That, along with Damian’s weird ‘deflowering’ comment.

“And with that lovely comment, Roy,” you squinted your eyes in his direction. “I’m out. I actually plan to get my shit done before school tomorrow.”

“You’re so smart, princess,” Roy made a heart with his hands over his actual one. “Maybe it’ll rub off on me one day,” he winked and Jason smacked him audibly on the arm.

No motorcycles ever again, you silently concurred after another one of Roy’s pointed comments about earlier that day.

“Stop trying to act like a fuck boy. It’s completely out of character,” Jason belittled his red-haired friend.

“Don’t even get me started on you Mr. Brooding, bad boy,” he morphed his freckled face into Jason’s seemingly permanent scowl, doing his signature ‘tch.’ “Babe this, babe that, check out my motorcycle I only got from my dad because I-” Roy trailed off, crossing his arms at both of your wide gazes. “What?!”

Jason looked deathly murderous. 

Definitely your cue to leave, especially considering what you witnessed the last time you saw that same look on his face. You shook your head, thinking back on your first visit here to now. So much had changed. Plus, you definitely had a lot more friends than you did the first time. You smiled lightly to yourself at this as you collected your things in the wake of their argument. 

“Alright, I’m officially out. Have fun with each other and all of this,” you gestured to the papers and edibles. “I’m actually going to get my shit done. See you guys tomorrow.” You managed over their bickering, but neither seemed to notice. 

As you shut the library door behind you, you heard Tim’s quiet voice too late and you ended up bumping directly into him. He greeted you somewhat off-handedly before giving your disheveled uniform a once over. You attempted to smooth out your skirt, which had been creased from your earlier ride, then adjusted the straps of your superhero-themed backpack on your shoulders. 

“Don’t think I noticed that the first time,” he said, referring to your bag. “You read comics?” 

“Of course!” you couldn’t help that the volume of your voice raised with your excitement. No one ever wanted to talk comics with you, especially no one in Gotham. It was taboo in a way most cities would never be able to comprehend. 

You’d tried to get Damian into Batman of all things, but it never held his attention. According to him, it was all “girly-soap-opera bullshit anyway.” 

“Want me to walk you out?” you nodded and he moved to guide you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I feel like I keep seeing you, but you’re gone before I can talk to you,” he admitted. “Who do I have to fight to get some attention from you?” He flashed a gorgeous smile in your direction, forcing your eyes away from his delicate attractiveness.

“Talk comics with me?” 

He gives you an amused smile, “Yeah, I can do that.” You ended up sitting down next to Tim in the living room, which was situated next to the foyer. He patted at the spot on the couch right next to him and you ended up settling close enough that you could feel warmth radiating from his slender form. “Who do you read?” he glanced down at your backpack and smirked. “Besides Batman, that is.”

You blushed, not sure how much you wanted to nerd out in front of Tim. You didn’t want to scare him off and having him think you were some weird freak. “Long answer or short?”

His bright eyes glistened with something you couldn’t read. “Long.” His voice was deep and controlled, making you squirm slightly in your seat.

You still weren’t encouraged he knew what he was getting himself into, but you divulged anyway. 

“Well, living in Star City I’m partial to any of the Arrow comics, Black Canary included,” you added but thought it was pretty self-explanatory. “Flash family is pretty interesting too with the whole speed-force thing… Poor Kid Flash,” you lamented as if the storyline was actually real. “Can’t go wrong with Huntress or The Question, OH!” you exclaimed, sitting up straighter on the couch, further invading Tim’s space. You cleared your throat as you caught a whiff of his earthy, pinewood-smelling cologne. “Nightwing’s hot as fuck. Serious buns of steel, so there’s that, but I know you said besides Batman,” you finished with a shrug.

“Er…” Tim looked around the room quickly.

“Don’t lie, Tim. You know it’s true,” you sighed as you stared off into space, thinking about the skin-tight uniform he donned. “Fattest ass in the whole superhero game by a longshot.” You inadvertently thought back to Dick’s speedo-covered ass that was now ingrained in your mind for the rest of eternity. Still had nothing on Nightwing, though you concluded. 

“I’ll take your word on it,” he trailed off amusedly. 

“But, obviously,” you pointed to your backpack. “Anything Batman or Robin is the shit,” you nodded and started listing off repeat characters that were featured in the issues over the years. “They speculate that there have been at least five Robins, if not more! How crazy is that?” you continued rambling. “And they all start so young too! Could you imagine being in middle school and going home to kick ass and then finish fractions homework? Wild,” you shook your head in disbelief. Tim had remained quiet throughout, so you glanced over to make sure he was still awake, only to find him still staring at you with the same unreadable look. “What?”

“Which one is your favorite?” It came out somewhat hesitant, but you shrugged, figuring you were reading too far into it.

You didn’t have to think on it for too long. You’d asked yourself this very question ages ago once the speculation came out, but actually explaining it out loud was a whole other thing.

“First Robin is always iconic,” you listed on your finger easily. “The second one… Not much is known, I don’t think,” you trailed off and looked to him for confirmation, but he just shook his head. “Red Robin is probably the most iconic Robin aside from the first panty-wearing one.”

Tim barked out a laugh, “Oh, yeah?” 

You nodded animatedly. “Red Robin’s uniform basically set the trend for the newest Robin’s garb,” you pointed out with a raised eyebrow, begging Tim to refute it, but he never did, so you continued. “Besides the hood and all, it’s just a boring Red Robin costume, but Red Robin,” you sighed and whipped out your phone to show Tim all the photos you’d captured of him over the years for your Batman blog. “He’s different.”

“Woah, déjà vu…” he muttered to himself and you let out a questioning noise. “I, uh, used to follow around Batman and Robin too.”

“No way,” you smiled widely. “We should go out together sometime then. With the two of us, we’ll be unstoppable!” he continued to scroll through your blog distractedly. “I haven’t been out to photograph since I moved out here, but I’ve been wanting to get back out there sometime soon.”

“I’d be down,” Tim nodded as he zoomed in on a particularly spicy photo that had somewhat blown up on your blog. “Seems like you always go for a, uh… certain angle?” 

You blushed and snatched your phone away, “It’s not like I can exactly repel up buildings like them to get a normal angle.”

“So, basically, you have a Red Robin ass-shot fanpage?” he teased, handing you back your phone.

You laughed at his accurate analysis. “I guess so,” you pocketed your phone and stood up. “I have to get heading out now, but if you ever want a large print of one of my pics, just let me know,” you nudged him lightly, teasing him right back. 

“It was really nice chatting with you,” he said, also getting up.

You nodded, “Nice chatting with someone who gets it.” You’d meant the comic book part because his brothers teased you relentlessly about it, but your statement seemed to be misconstrued by Tim as it made him blush brightly. 

Deep red stained Tim’s pale, striking cheekbones. “For sure,” he seemed like he wanted to say something else but instead merely ran a bony hand through his loose locks. “See you around,” he said your name. As he turned to walk off with a tiny wave, he came upon the ruckus heading directly your way.

You heard trampling from behind you and turned just in time to see Jason and Roy shoving each other down the stairs. 

"Oh," Jason drawled, schooling a bored face as he stared at the small space between you and Tim. "You’re still here?”

“Fuck off,” you turned on your heel and walked to the front door, still annoyed that they took edibles rather than help with the project. You waved to them and headed for the door.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Roy said, appearing out of nowhere with a strong hand on your shoulder to prevent you from going anywhere further. “We got you, babe-princess,” he looked back to Jason, who seemed extremely unamused by Roy's second nickname mix-up of the day. “You down for another motorcycle threesome?”

You gawked and turned to Tim quickly to set things straight. “I’ve never been down for that, but,” you turned back to Jason and Roy and admitted, “I do need a ride.” 

Tim walked out to the front with you guys as if wanting to see the motorcycle set up for himself. Based on his wrinkled nose, he didn’t approve of the intimate proximity between the three of you. If he really was bothered, he didn’t really show it as he still elected to wave at you. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said your name and walked back into the manor.

“You got a goal to fuck everyone in the mansion, or what?” Jason’s bitter voice cut through your daydreaming. 

“Definitely not the two of you, that’s for sure. Dick, though…” you sighed extra dreamily just to piss him off. 

“Just get on the bike,” came Jason’s gruff response. 

It had worked, you thought to yourself with a smile, and it wasn’t even true. You totally would bang any of them in a heartbeat- have they seen themselves? Everyone in the house looked like they'd strutted straight off the catwalk of Paris Fashion Week.

“When did you meet Dick?” Came Roy’s faux-nonchalant question, “I haven’t seen him around recently.”

“We played one game together, figures she’d already be attached to him.” Jason seemed a lot more upset than you’d expected, but why? Also, Jason hadn’t even technically been there when you’d first met Dick, so what did he even know?

“And yet, whose bike am I on?” you snatched the helmet from his hand to shove on your head. The ride to your apartment goes by quickly and is mainly drowned out by Jason blasting some angsty music. When you pulled up, they looked at you expectantly. “What?” you handed Jason back his helmet, hopping off Roy’s lap. “You want to come inside or something?” you’d only been joking, but they seemed to take it very seriously as they both dismounted swiftly to follow you into the apartment complex. “Woah, I was just kidding.”

“No takebacks,” Jason insisted, but you were too busy internally worrying about them seeing your pathetic apartment to truly be bothered by his resoluteness. 

“Alright,” you turned to go inside but hesitated enough for Roy, who was following behind you, to notice.

He quickly came to your side, “We don’t have to, you know?” It was muttered somewhat privately between the two of you as Jason was more preoccupied with the safety of his bike. “I definitely get it.” Did he, though? Your face must have expressed this because he merely laughed. “Listen, my uncle, Ollie may be rich, but before him, well, not so much,” he trailed off. “So, in that sense, I guess I get it?” he seemed uncomfortable bearing all this information with you, but you felt more at ease because of it. 

“I,” you placed a light hand on his shoulder in appreciation, “Yeah.” You weren’t so good with the being open part either. At least he was able to get out an actual sentence, you admonished yourself. “Definitely difficult living here and going to school in Bristol, too,” you shrugged. It was the truth and it seemed to be the primary reason almost everyone at school treated you like slimy trash beneath their Prada dress shoes.

“For sure, princess,” you blushed at the intimacy that leaked out from his voice. “Like I said earlier, ‘us Star City kids gotta stick together,’” you nodded, looking anywhere but into his hypnotizing green eyes. From this close, you could clearly see the light freckles that dotted his pale face. 

“You guys good?” Jason finally appeared behind you, wrapping a hand around your shoulder. “Is he bothering you?”

Roy slapped at Jason’s shoulder, effectively smooshing you between the two of them. It was a feeling that was becoming increasingly familiar to you and you definitely weren’t hating it. “Dude!”

“What?!” Jason pushed back at him, smooshing you into Roy now, who pushed back and smooshed you into Jason’s side. 

“Okay, not that I’m not loving this whole tug-of-war game here, but we really shouldn’t be just standing outside in this neighborhood,” you said, pushing them apart with both arms. “Are you guys coming up or not?” you stepped forward, turning around with a questioning gaze, efficiently commanding their attention. 

The sun was starting to set and you didn’t want to wait around for it to get much darker than it already was. You definitely weren’t about to get mugged just because these dumbasses wanted to wrestle on the concrete. 

They look at you and nodded dumbly. 

“Good,” you said, motioning them inside, where they followed behind you like lost puppies. It was kind of cute, you thought to yourself with a light smile. “They say this place is haunted or some shit,” you were making small conversation as you led them to the elevator and clicked your floor, but not before a seemingly intoxicated man could board as well. "I think people are just scared of old, broken-down shit, though."

The building was obviously dilapidated, with outdated aesthetics peeling and chipping into the rotting corpse of the building's barely withstanding core. Fluorescent flickering of sickening green glows throughout, well, the lights that were working, that is.

Without a second glance your way, both Roy and Jason herded you from the middle of the only working elevator to stand between the two of them.

You’d never seen the man around before, but you were glad you’d invited Roy and Jason in, if not just for the numbers. He didn’t seem right and with his blatant staring at you, you were becoming more uncomfortable with each passing second. 

You cursed the slow-ass elevator for taking its damn time.

“You didn’t click a floor, my dude,” Roy tried to sound light as he addressed the man. You looked up at Jason to see him clenching his jaw tightly. Meanwhile, Roy seemed calmer, yet reserved about the unfolding creepy situation. “What number can I hit for you?”

Instead of an answer, there’s a bone-chilling bark of laughter. All eyes shifted to the man now with a steadily growing feeling of unease. “I got my floor,” his dark, hollowed eyes never leaving your own. You glared at him, but all he did was smile back with a haunting grin. 

The elevator ‘dinged!’ and opened up to your floor, but no one moved. 

A couple of things could’ve happened, you figured as you looked around at the overwhelming amount of testosterone leaking into the small elevator car. One: Roy could attempt to dissuade the drunk man with his charm to get him to not follow you back to the apartment and everyone would leave unharmed, plus creepy dude wouldn’t know where you lived. Or, two: Jason would unleash his white-knuckled, clenched fist on the drunk dude, knocking him around and an all-out war would shake the entire unstable car until it threatened to fall. 

However, neither of those things happened. Well, rather a combination of Roy’s charm and Jason’s unhinged hostility. 

“‘M afraid I can’t let you follow our little lady over here, so if this is your floor, you better hop out now, dude,” Roy was smiling, but it didn’t meet his usually warm eyes at all. No, this was a hostile and frightening grimmace under the guise of a smile.

“We’re all men here, right?” It was completely slurred, but you were able to make out what he’d said. 

Your heart pounded frantically with every second that ticked on.

“That we are,” Roy’s lips grew tighter, essentially baring his teeth at that point. “Let’s get a move on, bud.”

The man, however, didn’t head the warning and continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “We’re men, we know what we’re doing. I know what you're both doing.” He gestured drunkenly to them, then to you. “Just like she knows what she’s doing. 'Specially when they walk around in them little school girl uniforms askin’ for it-”

Jason’s capriciousness is unleashed in a well-timed fist to the face, effectively cutting off the sleazy man’s ramblings. 

One punch is all it takes for the man to crumble to the elevator floor. 

You couldn’t help the gasp that slipped from your mouth and into the silent car at the display of violence that took place in front of you. It was only in the aftermath that the true weight of the situation fell upon you.

If you’d been alone… You didn’t have to say it out loud because it’d been what you’d all already been thinking. 

As you left the elevator in heavy silence, your stomach swirled and churned with unease at the memory of his black eyes. It was as if he could somehow see beneath your clothes. 

You felt completely dirty and utterly nauseated. 

Probably for the best, you realized with a sigh, considering you didn’t have any food to cook, but that was something to think about once Roy and Jason left. You hated to admit that the thought of them leaving didn’t quell any lingering nausea. After all, they’d been the ones who’d saved you. 

What would you have been able to do alone?

You’d been apparently staring at the front of your apartment door for too long because Jason and Roy both cleared their throats. You shook your head, robotically going through the familiar motion of pulling out your keys and unlocking the door as if on autopilot. No, you knew you were on autopilot because you kept forgetting Roy and Jason’s presence.

It was odd hearing voices and movement around the apartment. You weren't alone, per se, but with every rippling ache reverberating throughout the fog in your skull, you knew you were mentally alone.

“Where are your parents?”

You winced at the question, not having the energy to play it off.

No ‘are you okay?’, no ‘how are you feeling?’- no. It was the most invasive question you’d wanted to avoid this whole time. It was quite literally the entire reason that you hadn’t wanted them to come up in the first place.

You came out of your brain fog long enough to see them both looking around at the completely bare walls. You’re sure it was because it clearly lacked the normal familial clutter they were used to. 

You would never tell them but, ever since you were eight, you’d begun the process of raising yourself in your parent's absence. 

They were addicted to gambling, robbing and anything to do with money. Some might even consider them common thieves, you would just consider them absent addicts. They meant almost nothing to you. There was a small part of you that wished for a normal family life where your parents were more focused on taking you apple picking in the fall and swimming at the pool in the summer rather than their next fix of dirty money.

Jason noticed you were seeming to respond again and slowly approached you, “Would you want to stay at the manor tonight?” 

Roy looked concerned like he wanted to ask something more, but instead, he let you take your time answering. Seeing their brows knit together with worry only made your stomach churn more.

You considered the offer, but you were used to dealing with this side of town. At least, so you tried to convince yourself. If anything, tonight was a grim reminder that you really didn’t stand a chance in these parts, even against some piss-drunk fuck. 

“No,” you cleared your throat after hearing how small and pathetic it sounded. You wanted to shower and burn your uniform. 

“I’m sorry, but it had nothing to do with what you were wearing and everything to do with him being an absolute pedophile.” You must’ve let the last part slip out in your half-minded state but couldn’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed by Roy comforting you.

Roy looked to Jason, who merely nodded, “We can teach you self-defense that could help you in those situations if they ever happen again.”

You looked up into Jason’s emerald eyes, but your gaze was evidently dull and unfocused, “Maybe another time.” You wanted for them to leave and stay at the same time. It was just like how you wanted to shower, knew you needed to, but refused to move from the spot you’d been standing in since arriving. 

They said your name in unison and then looked between themselves with concerned looks. “We can stay here? If that would be more comfortable?” Jason finally broke the silence.

“At least while you shower!” Roy chirped with kind eyes that begged yours to meet his own. You couldn’t.

They didn’t want to leave you…? 

“Yeah,” you were too tired for words. Finally, you forced yourself to take step after step as the man’s voice repeated itself over and over again in your head.

You walked to the hallway dead ahead and into the bathroom before turning on the shower. 

Your hamper was in the closet in the hallway that faced the living room where Roy and Jason were currently stationed. In your haze-clouded brain, you didn’t seem to notice or care as you walked back into the hallway to strip in front of the hamper. You made quick work of discarding your ruined uniform, throwing it onto the heap of your other dirty clothes, not caring if Roy or Jason saw as you continued the motions of your usual routine. 

You returned to the bathroom and immediately stepped into its cold spray, not having had the patience to wait for it to heat up, though you regretted it instantly with a pathetic hiss. Soon, the shower had heated up to where you’d turned the nozzle all the way to red. You reveled in the scalding water that singed your skin red in its wake. 

You were clean. No, not completely clean, but definitely cleaner than you'd been in the elevator. You miserably realized that you would never truly feel clean when you could still picture and hear everything. 

Eventually, you heard a knock on the door, reminding you that you of your company. 

“What?” It came out harsh, but you couldn't help but be somewhat upset at being pulled from your pitiful spiraling. 

“Just checking on you,” came Jason’s gentle voice. “Roy headed out to get something for us to eat and maybe some groceries.” 

Your stomach growled loudly enough that you’re sure Jason heard it. You were embarrassed that, by now, they’d probably gone through your empty cabinet and fridge.

You didn’t respond, so you assumed Jason had gone back to the living room while you finished washing off your fourth round of suds. It was only in the foggy after-haze of your shower that you stepped out into your towel that you realized how rude you were being. You hope they wouldn’t hold it against you after everything they'd done to help you. 

You just weren’t in the right mindset right now.

Emerging from the bathroom, a wall cloud of steam billowed out from behind your small form. You stepped out into the hall and nearly tripped over Jason, who was stationed right outside the bathroomon the floor, in the process. 

“Woah!” he caught you in his arms before you could fall face-first to the floor. “I got you,” he said your name as he righted you and helped you stand. 

He looked away as you fiddled with your towel and headed into your room, shutting the door lightly behind you. You didn't care that it didn’t click into place, leaving a slight path of light from hallway into your own. You used this light to pull on your most basic t-shirt and short PJ set, seeing as the superhero ones didn’t appeal to you at the moment for some reason. You still do pull on your bat signal socks, though, before walking back out into the living room. 

Jason looked you up and down from where he slouched on the couch, but his eyes revealed nothing and you weren’t fully there enough to analyze it further.

You hadn’t shaved in a few days, so stubble showed across your bare legs that were normally covered by your uniform socks, but you didn’t give a fuck. It didn’t seem like Jason cared either as he tore his eyes away from your exposed legs to meet your eyes. “Do you want to talk about anything?” It was Jason’s way of asking if you wanted to talk about it.

“What’s there to talk about? Grown men suck.” It'd been an understatement. “They ruin everything.” You’d be stuck picturing the elevator ride from tonight every time you’d get in it.

“I know,” he shifted a bit on the couch so he could better face you. “It’s good you know it’s not your fault though, right? You didn’t do anything or cause this in any way.” Jason was very clearly trying to let you know that it was the dude’s problem, not yours. It’d been something you’d been thinking about since the incident. 

You, however, were mostly worried about what would happen once Jason and Roy left and it was just you in the building by yourself again. What would you do if you ran into that man again? What if he stalked your floor door-by-door until he found you? You hoped he’d be drunk enough to forget everything, but you couldn’t be sure. 

Suddenly, the door burst open and Roy walked in with piles of plastic to-go containers that stacked up way overtop of his red hair. 

“Solved our little problem,” he set down the bags on your laminate kitchen counters, doing a double take when he saw you sitting on the couch next to Jason. “The food problem, that is!” he rushed to cover his previous statement for some unknown reason. “Who’s hungry?”

Jason snorted and got up to help Roy unpack the Chinese food. “We all are, idiot.” 

You thought back to the two edibles they’d eaten earlier and imagined they’d have the munchies at this point. It was only then that the redness in both of their eyes became apparent, making each of their unique green colors stand out even more than usual. 

The munchies definitely explain the shit ton of food that’s being shoved onto the small amount of counter space you had.

“There’s only three of us,” you said quietly, motioning to the eight food containers.

“I know, but you’re a princess, so I gotta bring you a feast,” he smiled with crinkled eyes, but all you could think about was the terrifying one he’d shot at the drunk man in the elevator. 

Your eyes glazed over once again, heart pounding after suddenly being thrown back into that moment. You stare down at your feet. 

“What do you want?” Jason’s gentle voice washed over you, forcing you to focus back on the options in front of you. 

You shrugged, not feeling too hungry, all things considered, “Whatever's good.”

Another glance between them, but you were too tired to care, let alone read more into it. You found yourself walking back to the couch where you curled into the blanket that you kept on the arm of it.

Roy handed Jason your plate and his before making his way over to you on the couch, “Want me to turn something on?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t even bothered to try and turn the thing on yet. “I only get news channels,” you lied.

“I have Hulu on my phone?” he suggested as he handed you his phone to flip through the options. “Just pick something and I think I can AirPlay it to your TV.”

You clicked on Andrew Garfield in a Spider-Man outfit, then handed it back to Roy. He fiddled for a second with his phone and the TV until it popped up on the flat screen your parents had stolen from your neighbors when you’d moved from your old place to here. It was a pleasant surprise that it worked, seeing as every other TV they'd stolen (and hadn’t pawned) never did. 

Jason squeezed in between you and Roy, balancing three plates piled high with random Chinese goodness like a professional waiter. He distributed two of them out to you and Roy and kept the last for himself.

“You have good taste in spider men,” Roy attempted to joke and get you to nerd out, but you were more focused on eating with your tumultuous stomach. “We could teach you Spidey self-defense,” he obnoxiously pretends to shoot off webs like Spider-Man and even makes cute little noises to go with it. 

You smiled a bit finally at that, leaving Roy to beam at the sight. 

Jason pretended to be absorbed in the food, but you saw how his eyes lingered on your smile just a bit longer than normal. You knew he was glad to see you coming out of your fog a bit more. 

You thought back to the moment and realized how different it could’ve gone if you’d been able to actually defend yourself. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all? 

“I think it would be good for me to know that.” It definitely couldn’t hurt. “It happened so fast,” you looked at both of them with fearful eyes. “If you guys hadn’t walked me up, I would’ve been alone.”

They nodded gravely. 

It’s only then you feel the tears spill out of your eyes. 

You’d always been alone, you were used to being alone, but this time you weren’t and, because of it, something awful was prevented from happening. You tried to stifle your sniffling quietly so they wouldn’t notice, but it was fruitless. The first sob slipped out without permission, gaining both of their attention. They swiftly took care of the plates before wrapping you and your blanket cocoon in their arms, holding on tightly. 

“I’m sorry that this happened to you,” Roy spoke first, with his deep rumble cutting through your silent cries. “We both are.” 

You felt their hands lightly tracing patterns on your back and laugh somewhat when their hands met near the middle of your back. They both immediately pull away with hurried ‘sorry’s’ and mumbled excuses. You yawned, pulling them both back to curl around you and snuggled your head onto Roy’s chest, who stilled instantly at the sudden contact. You felt him glance up at Jason, who merely curled against your back, lightly leaning his head on Roy’s and on top of your own. You tucked your head under his chin and furrowed further into Roy’s exposed collar bones. 

Once you and Jason were settled, Roy kicked his feet up onto your coffee table and got comfortable himself. 

“Don’t suppose you’d want to sleep in a bed?” he whispered, but the even breathing coming from your small body against him was the only answer he received. 

•

You floated through school the next day, completely preoccupied with the events that took place last night both in the elevator and your apartment. Damian could either sense it like some freaky pack animal shit or, more likely, Jason had told him. You figured this to be true because Damian refused to leave your side the entire day, even going so far as to insist on you spending the night at the manor. You wouldn’t refuse and had already prepared for it by bringing your daily essentials with you in your backpack to lessen the number of trips you’d need to take back to the apartment.

Stephanie and Tim joined you, Jason and Roy at lunch, which helped keep your mind off of everything. That is, aside from the fact that everyone was walking on eggshells and shooting you the most pitiful glances that made your stomach knot. 

Damian was the most tolerable, aside from Jason and Roy who’d woken up with you. For the most part, though, none of them were pressing further. There was a part of him that seemed like he was holding back from saying something to you, but he never convinced himself to actually spit it out. It was just as well, you’d already grown tired of the topic and tired of feeling the cacophony of emotions that always followed. 

You truly owed Roy and Jason so much for stopping that man. You didn’t know how you’d ever make it up to them.

You walked home with the group, mainly trying to keep up appearances when they brought you into the conversation, but Damian made sure to keep you somewhat involved and distracted from your thoughts.

You were brought back to the present by Damian rehashing gossip he’d picked up on in the class you missed yesterday. You could hardly keep up with people’s first names, let alone their last names, enough to actually know who Damian was referring to. In the end, you were just glad for the noise. It was nice not to have to talk when you were still feeling so out of it.

“And she said that she didn’t fornicate with him and that it was all a ‘simple misunderstanding,’” Damian was flapping his hands around dramatically in frustration at the story. “How do you accidentally fornicate?” He pointed a finger at you to further his point. “And, coming from her, it’s rich, seeing as last year at the 8th grade party she couldn’t keep her sloppy ass away from…” you tuned him out as Jason and Roy sped by on his motorcycle, flipping you all off. “And Elliot, being her nosey self-”

“That’s rich,” you joked lightly, not realizing you'd accidentally cut him off. 

His eyes sparkled at the sight of your small smile, “Whatever. I know you live for the drama, too.”

You fled from his intense, hazel gaze to stare back down at Tim’s pristine sneakers on the sidewalk directly in front of you. 

“So long as it’s not about me, I guess,” you tried, but it fell flat. 

Damian picked up where he left off, not allowing you to bask in the silence long enough for what happened last night to resurface. “I personally didn’t even want to go to the party, but Father made me,” Damian looked for a reaction and when you gave none, he continued. “I wore a fine tuxedo, but everyone else dressed down for some reason.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, imagining Damian showing up to the summer pool party in a three-piece suit. 

“Hush,” he said your last name with gentle mirth. You hadn’t realized until that point that Stephanie and Tim had long stopped talking, but Damian didn’t seem to care or notice. “I wish we would’ve known each other then. It surely would’ve been more enjoyable with your company,” he confessed as he looked at you out of the corners of his eyes. 

“I’m sure I would’ve had fun with you too.” You thought about what you would’ve worn, what the pool looked like, etc. 

“I suppose we could go to the homecoming dance together next month,” he was still looking at you with a vulnerability you’d never seen from him before. “It’s not exactly the same, but it might make up for your previous absence.”

You shrugged, “Yeah, sure. That sounds fun.” 

You locked eyes again and he lightly smiled. “We always do what I want to do when we’re here,” Damian said once you’d reached the manor. “So, what would you want to do?”

You thought back to your bare kitchen and how fully stocked his had been. “Would you want me to teach you to bake?”

“I heard bake!” Roy yelled from the kitchen, where he and Jason were in the middle of making enough sandwiches to feed at least eight people. 

You and Damian wandered into the kitchen after bidding Tim and Stephanie goodbye. You were starting to get a hunch that they were a thing… You’d have to remember to ask Damian later. 

Whatever they were, it seemed off today.

Jason ended up helping you more than Damian or Roy did, that is, until Jason started sneezing and coughing and Damian told him to scram. Well, less told and more demanded.

Roy headed out a bit after Jason left and while the scones were still chilling in the fridge. He left after giving you a big hug and a head ruffle to Damian, making him huff in annoyance. 

“Call me if you need anything,” Roy was cut off by Damian slamming the door behind him, but you could still hear Roy’s laughter through the thick, wooden door. 

“I’ll never pretend to understand why you’re hanging out with them all of a sudden,” Damian turned his scowl on you. He suddenly seemed to remember the night you’d had and sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. “Never mind, I’m just glad you’re here,” his voice trailed off with a slight rasp. Recently you’d noticed more voice cracks that became less sporadic throughout the weeks and that the voice you’d met had been slightly changing each day.

You snorted, “You don’t need to go all soft on me because of what happened.”

“You have no family either.” 

You winced even though he hadn’t meant it as a jab. “Yeah, that too. Glad you’re caught up on everything,” you pushed past him abruptly to pull the chilled dough from the fridge and put it into the preheated oven. “Guess that’s why Tim wouldn’t talk to me today.”

“It’s not him.” Damian seemed willing to give you whatever information you wanted to stop being mad at him. “He and Brown are on the rocks.” 

“I knew they were a thing!” you exclaimed, turning around with the dirty mixing bowl in your hands. And, as you recalled, you also felt like something was off between them in the foyer early, too. 

Damian took the bowl and placed it in the sink, “Anyone with eyes could see that, stupid,”

“Whatever,” you jumped up onto the counter, then remembered it wasn’t your house and shamefully slid down, hoping Damian wouldn’t notice. He did. He jumped onto the counter and pat the spot next to him somewhat demandingly. 

“The only person who uses the kitchen is Pennyworth and Todd, so no one will care about your ass or mine being on here,” you snorted and hopped back up and boop’ed his nose. He’d been nothing but helpful and understanding in how to approach what happened and you were extremely appreciative. He looked at you like you’d grown a third eye. “What’s your deal,” he said your name in a deep voice you’d never heard from him before, sending shivers down your spine. 

What was with you? This was your friend... He didn't like you like that.

Your faces were inches apart without you even realizing it, but he seemed suddenly spooked by the close proximity. Yeah, he definitely didn't like you like that and, to be honest, you didn't know if you did either. It was almost as if you were addicted to the intoxicating feeling of being wanted and that's what you held fast to. 

You were just backing away from him when a deep voice cleared slightly, causing you both to turn immediately to the source- Bruce Wayne. 

He walked over near the sink to grab an apple without a glance in Damian's or your direction. “I don’t think we’ve officially met,” You slipped from the counter bashfully, even after Damian reassured you it wasn’t an issue, but you didn’t dare break eye contact with the older man. It was seemingly a challenge from the infamous playboy and you were more than willing to meet it head-on.

You smiled as genuinely as you could while simultaneously preventing yourself from shitting your pants, well, skirt, on the spot under his intense inspection. You told him your name with only the slightest wobble in your tone as you smoothed down the tweed fabric that had ridden up as you slipped off the counter, “It’s nice to meet you properly, Mr. Wayne.” 

"Call me Bruce," he chuckled politely and threw the red apple into the air before catching it quickly. “I’m sure I don’t have to make excuses for my sons at this point, though, if you’ve been hanging around my youngest.”

“His only,” Damian muttered. It’s only then that you felt like you could look back at him for support. When you turned around, you were met with the sight of him hunched over with crossed arms on the counter. 

“I see my point has been proven,” he winked at you, leaving you to genuinely laugh. 

Damian tch’ed. 

“I’m making scones if you’d like some,” you pointed at his state-of-the-art oven. “Jason got sick yesterday at the diner-” You stopped and looked up at Bruce hesitantly. “After school?” you tried to mend your statement, but it was in vain. You weren't used to having to cover anything up for adults seeing as you answered to no one. “Anyway, it’s his recipe and I wanted to make him something,” you shrugged and trailed off lamely. You made eye contact with anything but the attractive man in front of you who towered over you without even trying. 

You didn’t want to mention that Jason had also helped save you from an attack last night, but you assumed Bruce already knew, anyway.

“That’s the whole reason I came in here,” he said, disregarding your admission to skipping and instead moving to open the door to see the dough browning. "It smells delicious.” 

The older man who’d taken you home the first time you visited walked in soon after Bruce and also commented on the smell. “I assumed Master Jason was in here, but it seems like you might just take my job, Miss,” he said your name and you smiled lightly. “Master Damian, see to it that the proper accommodations are ready for your friend,” he turned to you once again, “You will be staying for dinner, Miss?” 

You awkwardly looked back at Damian, who was blatantly staring at you. “Only if it’s no hassle.” You still had lots of leftover Chinese at home, but you didn’t feel safe there on your own quite yet. 

“Of course not, Miss,” he said your last name again and bowed out of the room.

Bruce was about to follow but hesitated and faced you again. You looked up at him expectantly, making him falter slightly. It’d been evident enough that Damian noticed and decided to comment on. 

“What?” he spat at his father.

Bruce gave him an admonishing glance, “If you ever feel unsafe or just want to come over, you’re welcome here any time.” 

Your heart swelled at the offer and you couldn't deny that you felt your eyes start to glisten, “That means a lot.” It'd been a long 24 hours. 

He nodded and gave you and Damian one last look before following after the older man. “I’ll be back for the scones.” He shot you a smile that you returned easily. 

“Father approves of you,” Damian said as soon as Bruce was out of earshot. 

“How? I basically told him I skipped school with your brother,” you glanced at him incredulously as you moved to take the scones out of the oven. 

“I’m not related to those fools,” Damian said with a slight voice crack. You laughed and he glared unappreciatively in response. “Let’s go see if Alfred set up your bed.”

“What do you mean?” There were so many rooms you highly doubted Bruce would want two 14-year-olds of the opposite sex sleeping in the same room. 

“There’s an air mattress.”

“So, I sleep in your bed?” you raised a brow.

“Pfft, don’t be ridiculous,” he said your last name. “I would never sleep on such a contraption.” 

“Gee, sounds comfortable. Can’t wait,” you said sarcastically. 

“You’ll enjoy it,” he hopped down from the counter while you fanned off the scones. Damian mischievously grabbed one and sneakily pulled it away before you could smack it out of his hand, “Too slow.”

“That’s because you’re a fucking ninja or something,” you snorted. “And I’ll take your word on the mattress,” you placed a few scones on a plate and motioned for him to follow you to Jason’s room with some help from your friend to find it. 

You knocked on his door lightly and heard shuffles, then a sneeze, then a curse, then the door opened. The sight that met you had you nearly dropping the scones had it not been for Damian and Jason’s quick, cat-like reflexes. You gazed up beet red at a shirtless Jason, which matched the crimson of his red boxers that matched your obvious blush.

"What?"

“I- we made you scones,” you shoved them into his arms and turned on your heel before he could thank you, well, actually before you could make an even greater embarrassment of yourself. 

“Thanks, I guess,” Jason called after you, but you didn’t bother to turn around as you continued toward the art room for refuge. 

Damian caught up to you easily, “Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?” you snapped. 

You weren’t in the mood to have your capricious hormones tested when his were obviously doing the same with all his recent, very comical, you might add, voice cracks. You turned around to give him one of his signature glares as a warning to drop it.

He looked into your eyes, then at your blush and huffed, “If that’s all it takes, then… Never mind.” 

“Good,” you huffed right back and turned away from him. You suddenly noticed a new painting he’d done that was still drying. You walked towards it, analyzing the somehow aggressive, sharp strokes from a watercolor brush, “It's safe to say your style translates across any medium.”

He came up behind you, already knowing which painting you were looking at. It was your face, after all. 

“And what style is that?”

You look at him for a moment, then back at the canvas. “These lines you do are always sharp and heavy, even in watercolor. It looks like you were moments away from ripping through the paper but didn’t,” you looked closer at it. “It’s really beautiful. Can I keep it?”

He regarded you for a moment, hesitating briefly. “Are you sure you want it? I can make a better one of you,” he motioned you to sit in one of the expensive-looking armchairs that adorned the room. 

You shrugged, glad for the distraction and leaned back in the chair with your legs crossed over one another to conceal your underwear in your tweed skirt. You rested your elbow that was closest to the window down onto the arm of the chair and brought that hand to rest lightly and effortlessly against your rosy cheek.

Damian’s eyes slid up and down your body with a heavy gaze, then seemed to remember the task at hand and picked up his brush to dip into varying shades of reddish-pink and green. “Why those colors?”

“They remind me of you,” he didn’t bother glancing up from the canvas to answer you until moments later when he needed to reference you. “You’re very curved, which makes it more satisfying to draw your shapes.”

“Thanks, I think?” You laughed but stopped after Damian reprimanded you for messing up your pose. “Sorry, sorry,” you did your best to smooth your face back down. “I don’t think I’ve seen a single curved line in any of your work yet.”

“That’s because I’ve never had a live model before,” he was definitely staring at your tits now, which were very prominently on display in your long sleeve, v-neck shirt.  

“Damian Wayne’s first live model. What a prestigious yet oddly creepy title to be given.” 

He smirked, “Just stay still, would you?” You followed his orders and returned back to your original position. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

You subconsciously touched your lips. “No, why?”

“They look nice,” he said without looking up. “You don’t wear makeup, do you?” 

“Sometimes I do, I don’t know. I don’t really think about it all too much,” his brows knitted together in concentration while he analyzed your features with careful precision. “Have you ever worn makeup?” You countered his question.

He regarded you with an odd face, “Not willingly, no.”

“But you have?” you were surprised to hear Damian had walked around with anything on his face. You assumed maybe he was talking about concealer before going to a Wayne event, but you couldn’t imagine anything more than that.

He sighed and put his brush down. “Drake and Brown thought it’d be funny to hold me down and put a whole bunch of shit on my face when I was like nine,” you barked out an unexpected laugh at the imagery. “It wasn’t fucking funny,” he glared at you. “Whatever,” he said when you wouldn’t shut up and picked back up the brush to capture your smiling face. 

“I bet you looked beautiful,” you were part teasing, part being honest. Damian had truly stunning features that could definitely be highlighted through a little liquid eyeliner and smoked-out eyeshadow. 

“Fuck off.” From where you were, you could see Damian’s painting process. It was as if you were there for reference but only second to where his hand already wanted to go. Almost like he was possessed by an already mapped-out picture in his mind. The brush slid across the canvas at an alarming pace for what seemed like forever as it scattered from the cup, to the paints, to the canvas. “I’m almost done with the main outline. I can finish the rest without you needing to pose.”

“Alright,” you yawned, asking Damian for the time.

“It’s almost time for dinner. Let me just finish up,” he dipped the brush in the water a few more times, making dramatic, long lines across the canvas before setting down the brush. After a moment of inspecting his work, he called you over to look.

“Oh, wow.” To say he made you look incredible was an understatement- you looked like an actual goddess. He’d captured every minute detail about you in this outline, even on account of the challenging new medium he was using. “Damian, this is crazy good. I can’t even believe how little time it took you to make this!” He didn’t know how to react to the praise, which only made you want to continue to stroke his ego. “I think I’ll need you to teach me how to paint people with watercolors because I sure as fuck can’t.”

“Please,” he waved you off with warm cheeks. “I merely used the techniques you showed me. You’re just being modest.” 

“Whatever,” you blew him off, staring at all the little details. “This is amazing. You’re amazing," you added the last part at the last second. 

Damian shifted under your attention uncomfortably. “We better not be late to dinner, or Pennyworth will have our heads.” 

You couldn’t quite place a person like Damian Wayne, not then, at least. Would you ever be able to? That was something you weren’t sure of.

“Alright, let’s go.”

A/N: one of my faves chaps so far! what r u thinking- let me know!

in case you missed it- here's a link to the spotify playlist! (it's also linked on the masterlist seen below :p)

[next] ||  masterlist ||  pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

#reader x jason todd x roy harper #jayroy #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #reader x roy harper #my fic: the art of rehabilitating snowbirds #my fic:ars

[yeslieutenant]

Soulmate AU #1

Saw a prompt, wrote a story that wasn't even what I was supposed to be working on. Tada.

A/N: I used the Soulmate prompt of 'The first words you hear your soulmate say are written on your arm.' Unedited. I wrote it, and now I'm posting it.

Warnings: Swearing.

Words: 1,282

Soulmates are bullshit. Ever since I was born, people thought I would be military, all cause of the stupid writing on my arm. I was dubbed ‘The Colonel’ for years, despite my protests. That’s what led me to this moment, and the frustration I was feeling as Clarice chuckled at my arm again.

“I just think it’s funny that people call you colonel, despite your brother being the Colonel here,” she says, her tone light, muffled only slightly by the obnoxious chewing of her gum.

“Dr. Stokes, you know she hates being called that.” my fucking hero. I tug my sleeve down further, gripping it tightly in my hand. I never wear anything but long sleeves anymore. I hate explaining it.

“So what does it even say? Just Colonel?” Clarice asks, pestering me again, and I choose to ignore it. I watch Eric open his mouth to answer, before he decides against it.

I feel the gravity drop for a split second, and hear the pilots talk about the descent starting. I reach down, tightening my grip on my seat and feeling my stomach lurch at the motions. Eric’s hand lands on my knee in a comforting gesture, and I give him a tight lipped smile. As soon as the wheels hit the solid roof, Eric and Clarice are up, and I struggle to keep up with them in the Iraqi heat. I definitely feel my heart screech for joy when my feet land on the solid stone, and I quickly pick up my pace, trotting behind Eric. A gasp leaves my lips at the sight of the man in front of us. He brings his arm up in a salute, and a shiver courses through me at the sight of his muscled arms. His dark brown eyes are trained on my brother, only flitting over me briefly, and I watch dimples poke holes on the sides of his mouth. I manage to catch myself before I stumble over my own feet, my fingers tightening around the med kit’s heavy handle.

“Colonel. Good trip?” No. Fucking. Way. My eyes go wide as the kit slips between my fingers, and I realize a moment too late, the kit landing on the ground with a audible thud. I quickly pick it back up, thankful the clasp stayed firm, keeping it’s contents contained. When I return to my full height, I notice all three eyes locked on me. A deep crimson blush flushes on my cheeks, and for the second time in 10 minutes, I allow a tight lipped smile to grace my features, all though this time is only for a second before my eyes fall to the stone beneath my feet. Eric knows. He knows what my arm says. He’s known since the moment I opened my eyes. He knows this guy is my soulmate.

“Not particularly.”

“Welcome to Camp Slayer. You’re early…”

“Apologize for arriving early, Lieutenant. Things are moving fast.” Lieutenant?

“I hear you, Colonel. We’re glad to have you onboard.” Dreamboat pauses, and I swoon at his accented voice, my heart beating almost too fast, “Techs are ready for your presentation. Soon as we get word from the C.O., we’re good to go.” I hear paper ruffling, and realize Eric is pulling out the letter from CENTCOM.

“You should read this.”

“Didn’t you hear? There’s a new king in the castle.” I roll my eyes at Clarice’s blatantly flirty tone, and I feel irritation bubble up in my throat. He’s mine. I swallow down the nasty words already swelling in my mouth, ready to rip her a new one. Calm down. He may be your soulmate but you don’t have some weird claim on him yet.

“Looks that way.” Swoon. “And you are?”

“This is my assistant, Clarice Stokes-”

“Doctor Clarice Stokes.”

“And my sister, Y/N King. She’s a trauma nurse specializing in injuries received from WMDs.” I lift my eyes, noticing his eyes are trained on me.

“Kolchek. First Lieutenant Kolchek.” I nod, and we stare at each other for longer than is probably normal before Eric cuts in.

“Well! The briefing room?”

*****

What if the first thing I say to him isn’t on his arm? What if it was a fluke? What if-

“I can practically see you getting into your head, Y/N. Calm down.” Eric says, his voice practically a whisper over the bustle of the base.

“How can I calm down? You know what’s on my arm, Eric,” I feel myself spiraling, anxiety spiking. Eric rests his hand on my shoulder.

“I do. But I also know that if you arre freaking out, this whole thing is going to be ten times harder-”

“Sir?” We both look at the Lieutenant quickly, and I know my face must be that of a deer in headlights. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Y/N’s just new to all this. She’s not military.”

“Well, ma’am, I assure you, you’re safe here.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” And there goes the first thing I said to him.

*****

“I’ll leave the techy stuff to you.” His voice isn’t any louder than the radios and conversation around us, but it feels like he’s standing right next to me, speaking directly into my ears, his voice like honey. I feel my hands shake as I sort through my med kit, reorganizing after the jostling it took up on the roof.

“And I’ll leave the heavy lifting to you.” and all at once, it feels like I have been dropped into an ice bath, my skin prickling at Clarice’s sultry tone. I know she doesn’t know but god I could just-

“Actually, I skipped the gym today, so I’d leave the heavy lifting to Corporal Merwin. Let me know if I can help with anything else, Dr. Stokes.” He shut her down? “Ms. King?” I drop the bottle of saline from my hands in surprise, a small squeak leaving my throat at the Lieutenant’s sudden proximity. He reaches out, grabbing the saline before it can roll off the table.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on ya.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just on edge.” My hands are shaking almost violently now, and I try to steady them by gripping the roll of gauze, as if it was some sort of stress ball. He’s so close, I can smell him, like aftershave and a fresh clean scent, probably just the standard soap they get. He’s radiating warmth, and it takes all of my strength not to lean in, pressing my nose to his neck and reveling in every feeling that surrounds him.

“Can I talk to you?” He asks, and his hand lands on my wrist, and I long to know if he can feel my pulse thumping under his fingertips. I look up at him and notice how close we are. “Alone?” I nod wordlessly, following him down another corridor and into a small room with nothing but a desk and a chair. The desk is covered with papers, all looking recently disturbed.

“You wanted to-” But I don’t finish. He turns to face me, his arm outstretched, dark eyes swirling with confusion and distress. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant’ is written there in dark ink.

“Can you show me your arm?” He asks, his voice so quiet, I almost don’t hear it. I extend my arm, tugging the sleeve up gently to reveal my own dark ink. ‘Colonel. Good trip?’

“You’re my soulmate, Lieutenant,” I say without thinking, the words almost not feeling real as I watch a smile light up his features, the dimples that I know will be the death of me appearing on his cheeks again.

“Call me, Jason, doll. Just Jason.”

*****

Tags: @kawaiiwitch224 @yellowroseskolchek @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @buttermykolchek @katsufairies @kassiekolchek22

#jason kolchek fanfiction #jason kolchek #house of ashes #house of ashes fanfic #jason kolchek x reader

[coffinsister]

Hey I just want to let you know I've felt that way before too, rather someone hates you than never thinks of you again, and especially being so touch starved and it making you feel like you're repulsive, like you're a monster. You're not, but I know those words can ring hollow. I would get so sick of people saying "you'll find someone" like oh but not you right? I'm not good enough for you??

All that to say, you're not alone. I hope this brought you some small comfort at least

Thank you for this it is a comfort to hear I'm not the only one like this.

Sometimes you like or love a person so much that you would prefer to be hated by them than genuinely ignored, and it sucks being touch starved, after a while it's easy to start thinking that well "If anybody wanted to touch you they would have. If you deserved to be touched you would be."

All the same with people saying "Oh I'm sure you will find someone" it's so bothersome don't tell me I will find someone or that someone will want me when you are so blatantly rejecting me.

How can you so confidently say I am wanted when you don't want me?

Hearing things like that would make me really angry.

While I have never really had issues finding people who like me physically I have very rarely met anybody who isn't scared of me or likes my personality at all. It feels easier to just be an object or a sack of meat.

But that's not true at all. It is not a moral failing of your part at all whether other people decide to touch you or not, and of course it is also trough no fault of yours if other people decide to reciprocate your feelings or not.

You are not a monster or a failed person you are not subhuman or an object you deserve love and affection and respect just like all other people do.

I know this and right now I'm not maniac anymore so I can analyze the situation better.

It's so funny cuz the person I was thinking about while writing all that probably in reality does not give a fuck about me like not even in a mean way just in a "They don't even know me enough to have any strong opinions" way.

So yeah, know you are never alone.

#mania makes everything really intense so yeah one conversation or glance or just any text with a slightly different tone any one word really #just triggers the most insane results out of me #soleil asks

[angelofrainfrogs]

Spend the Night: Ch. 28

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

All stay strong

We live eternally

All is well in the Afton family

Lives, they fell to pure insanity

All is hell in the Afton family

~Afton Family by KryFuZe~

Gregory watched Charlie leave to brave the halls with Vanessa. He’d miss her. He knew that it’d feel odd not having her watchful presence at his side. A sigh escaped his lips, and he left the vicinity of the couch to gawk at his reflection in the mirror. Once he was positioned on Freddy’s chair, he braced his hands atop the vanity and peered into the reflective glass, pulling a long face when he realized exactly what Vanessa was freaking out about.

He looked dead. Or at the very least, extremely ill. He blinked and pulled a few funny faces, and still didn’t recognize himself.

“Guys—am I ugly?” Gregory asked, turning to gauge Michael and Freddy’s reactions. Knowing them, his family might lie to save his feelings.

“What—no, you’re not ugly!” Michael responded, coming over to stand behind Gregory. He turned the boy’s head back to the mirror, meeting his gaze in the glass.

“You should’ve seen William in that nasty old springlock suit… now that was ugly. And smelly. Ugh…” He pulled an exaggerated face of disgust, which soon turned into a playful smirk. “As Charlie would say, you’re adorable—look at this face!”

In a sudden attack, Michael swooped his hands around to pinch Gregory’s cheeks, not hard enough to hurt but enough to thoroughly annoy him. Ignoring Gregory’s attempts to push him away, Michael glanced at Freddy who’d joined them by the vanity. “Surely you agree your kid is the farthest thing from ugly, right, Fredbear?”

“Most certainly!” Freddy replied with a chuckle, deciding it best not to intervene in their brotherly struggle.

While this did reassure Gregory, he had to fend off the annoying little pinches Michael attempted to land on the baby fat of his face. Still, he had a feeling he’d remain a little subconscious due to Vanessa’s reaction—that definitely wasn’t the only one he’d get to that degree.

What’s wrong with him?

Well… I died. What’s her excuse? he thought glancing back to their shared reflections.

“My eyes aren’t too bad, right?” He’d hate to give someone a heart attack, thinking a ghost was walking around trying to stare into people’s souls.

But then again, so what if they did? Gregory could choose to feel bad about his situation, or he could move past it—at least until they had less important things to deal with.

“—Actually! You know what? I don’t care. Let them be creeped out. I’m fine the way I am,” he said definitively, taking back the negativity as he gave himself a determined pout in the mirror.

“You’re lucky your immortality just made you a little paler, kid; you could’ve turned purple,” Michael said with a grimace, subconsciously shooting a look towards the vent near the ceiling. His shoulders sunk a bit as he thought aloud: “We should probably fill Ennard in on the plan and tell them to give the ghosts down below a heads-up that we’ll be heading there later.”

To Freddy, the sudden switch in Michael’s train of thought almost seemed like whiplash. Although, he was starting to put the pieces together—it was blatantly clear that Ennard directly connected with another bad event in Michael’s past. Still, the animatronic had only been helpful to the group in the Pizzaplex and Mike seemed to tolerate them well enough to look past what happened before… for now.

“Do you want to call Ennard in here?” Freddy suggested, thinking Michael might feel a little more at ease in the comfortable room as opposed to the dimly lit storage area. Mike instantly started to shake his head, although he caught Gregory’s silver eyes in the mirror and paused.

“Well… it’s up to Gregory,” Michael said slowly. He certainly wasn’t as concerned about the boy getting hurt, although he still wasn’t going to let him with grabbing distance of the amalgamation. “I can talk to Ennard anywhere; I’ll leave it up to Gregory’s comfort level.”

Gregory looked to the top vent, following Michael’s line of sight.

“The carpet clown?” Gregory asked. Despite their demolition of Roxy under the raceway, Ennard was far too silly to scare him. Though he didn’t know exactly what Ennard had done to Mike, it’d been enough to mentally scar the man. Gregory aimed to show that at least he was alright with the creature. “It’s cool. I’m all good!”

It was then that an eyeball popped unceremoniously from the vent. It gazed down at them from the ceiling with an odd appreciative glance—like the way people stare at monkeys in the zoo.

“WE CAN COME OUT…?” asked the voice from on high. They'd apparently been waiting for permission.

“Yeah, come on—just stay over there,” Michael instructed, pointing to the corner of the room. It was on the opposite side from where he, Freddy, and Gregory stood, but even so Michael ushered Gregory off the chair, situating the boy in front of him with a protective hand on his shoulder.

“Were you able to hear any of our discussions, Ennard?” Freddy asked as the amalgamation began making its way into the room. Clearly they’d been listening in, though for how long was anyone’s guess. No one but Ennard themselves knew how they delegated their time between spying on Michael verses other members of the Pizzaplex.

Ennard dropped from the vent and the room shook where they impacted, leaving echoes of their entrance as they waved to the group.

“WE HAVE BEEN LISTENING SINCE LAST NIGHT...” Ennard replied honestly. While Ennard hadn’t been privy to William’s plan with the plushie, they saw when Michael rushed past the bathroom doors and watched him try to pull his brother from danger.

“WE CAN TELL THE REST... TOGETHER... OR WE CAN GO ALONE...” they would reply in regards to the plan. “STAYING... LESS... CONSPICUOUS...”

Though they remained a few yards back where Mike instructed, their many lines of sight flicked to Gregory ever so often, watching him. One child in the room, but one adult—and one animatronic.

Besides, the part of them that held certain compulsions was expelled long ago anyway.

There was a second where an indescribable spike of rage shot up Michael’s spine when Ennard mentioned they’d been listening in since last night. He wanted to scream at the thing, asking why they didn’t warn him about Gregory’s impending danger housed in a soft toy—

But the fury subsided just as quickly when logic won out: if Ennard was following Michael, how were they to know what William was up to?

“Uh… I don’t know,” Mike responded, loosening his unintentional grip on Gregory’s shoulder and patting it in silent assurance that he was alright.

It would certainly be less conspicuous for Ennard to slink down through the vents and warn the others, but… Michael couldn’t help but want to see Henry one more time before dragging William along. It was a selfish thought, especially without Charlie, but they also had Gregory’s Fazwatch hooked into the camera feeds, as well as Ennard themselves to play lookout.

A frown creased the android’s brow as a question rang through his mind that he’d never quite gotten the answer to. He looked to Ennard, disregarding its twitching and the usual wires slowly inching closer. It was a shot in the dark if Ennard would actually be able to answer his query, but he had to try—and whatever response he got would help sway his decision of whether to wait things out or take a preemptive trip downstairs.

“Ennard,” he began slowly, flinching involuntarily when all their eyes snapped to him at once. “There’s other spirits down there besides Cassidy and Henry. Do you happen to know how many? Or… who they are?”

Ennard's head snapped, twitching and shivering at the thought of the ghosts. The one they had to physically remove from their body, and the one who hung in the shadows, always just outside Ennard's field of vision.

“TWO.” He answered, eyes locking back onto Michael with intensity. “CASSIDY'S FRIEND... AND CIRCUS BABY...” was all he could identify them as.

The clown had become so bossy. Her demeanor was infecting their systems. Everyone apart of Ennard had been tired of taking the orders of a scorned child... So Ennard tended to avoid parts of the basement with Circus Baby lurking around.

As for the near-inseparable kids that had once shared the same empty springlock suit, Ennard couldn't recall the littlest one’s name. He never mentioned it, and Ennard had frankly never asked. Cassidy was always protective of him anyway, asserting that they’d end up scaring her friend should they hang around.

“Oh.”

The word was breathed out like someone had punched Michael in the gut, knocking all the air from his lungs in one go. He leaned heavily against the wall, one hand fisted in his hair and the other flat against the checkered paneling behind him. Mike's gaze was suddenly far away, no longer seeing those in the room but the smiling faces of his siblings staring up at him.

Before his eyes they transformed, Evan's face and hair suddenly matted in dark, staining blood—but only for a second before he turned into the eerie Golden Freddy suit, sitting with its head cocked at an unnatural angle even for an animatronic.

Lizzie became the robot she'd most wanted to see, Circus Baby all dolled up and shiny... and then she changed again too, shifting to the mangled, scrapyard version that sat across the table from Michael in the darkness of Henry's false pizzeria.

“Oh god; why?” Michael muttered, completely lost in his own world. He was pulling his hair hard, though he felt no pain. It was a wonder he didn't tug any of the brown locks out. “Why couldn't they go with the others...?”

“Michael, it is alright,” Freddy said softly, moving to comfort. The man jumped as a cool metal paw gently pulled his hand away, blank eyes staring up at Freddy for a few seconds before he blinked back to the present. Michael's gaze whipped around to Ennard, then to Gregory still by his side.

“Shit... sorry,” he muttered. “I... I know exactly who the spirits are—exactly who I expected. My siblings.” He managed the smallest, huffing laugh; he really shouldn't be surprised they'd stick around to see this through as well. “They're just as damn stubborn as I am, apparently...”

Ennard had seen Michael in such intense pain only once before... They felt entirely awkward, watching Mike have a panic attack at the information they so willingly handed over. Ennard raised their hands; their instinct to go to his side was strong.

Yet common sense was stronger. Michael surely wouldn't appreciate their touch. Though Ennard had been surprised to learn the deeper identities of these lost souls.

“WE SHOULD SHOW YOU WHERE—WHERE—WHERE THEY ARE.” Ennard offered a solution, moving towards the backroom. The chances of getting either Freddy or Michael to move in through the vents was more unlikely than an asteroid impacting the Pizzaplex.

“...Can we see them? Just for a minute, I... we don't have to stay long, I just... I need to see them before my father gets to them,” Michael said, looking to Freddy as if he was his—much preferable—dad that needed to give him permission before going out. Michael grimaced, but before he could even begin to unpack this Freddy responded with:

“If we are assured that William is nowhere along the path and we are very cautious, I believe we can.” The bear offered a smile, squeezing Michael's hand once before releasing it in favor of running his paw through Gregory's hair. “Besides, I do not think there is anything useful we can do until we receive word from Charlie and Vanessa. Additionally, it would be beneficial to know the best route down to the basement for when we are able to gain William's attention—the less unknown factors in this operation, the better.”

Freddy looked to Ennard then, his gaze measured and focused on the clown mask. “You will show us the safest path?”

Gregory was shocked, watching the time Michael was having. As Freddy reassured him with a swipe of his paw into his hair, Gregory gave him a soft smile and grabbed Mike’s hand. Michael tried to be strong; so strong that when he faced things he couldn't stand, he simply crumbled beneath the weight.

“It'd be nice to know the plan anyway,” Gregory pointed out. He’d also like to see these ghosts himself before they had a chance to jump scare him.

Ennard lifted their hand, eerily stretching it up to press an extended pointer finger over the mouth of their still mask. Mismatched eyes met Gregory's pale grey ones, and the animatronic whispered.

“IT'S A SURPRISE...” Before returning their collective attention to a distressed Michael and doting Freddy. “I WILL GUIDE—GUIDE AND PROTECT...”

“Thank you,” Michael said, directing it to everyone. Even Ennard deserved a miniscule amount of acknowledgement, for without them Mike would've gotten the shock of his life upon seeing his siblings in the basement. He kept a hold of Gregory's hand, not willing to let go as they traveled, although he did raise the boy's wrist up to see the Fazwatch. “Alright, let's check those cameras—if the coast is clear, we can go.”

Freddy shifted to the side, trusting their combined judgement on whether it was safe to move. While they examined the feeds, Freddy examined Ennard.

Despite Michael slowly spilling his heart out over the course of the weekend about his family and personal struggles, his past with Ennard was mostly a mystery. Getting even a smidgen of information was like pulling teeth, and while Freddy respected Mike's wishes to keep things to himself, the bear couldn't help his curiosity on not only how they were connected, but what exactly Ennard was... and their purpose. Clearly there were a few animatronics that made up their body, as evidenced by the multitude of eyes and tendency to speak in the plural. Freddy knew they cared for Michael in their own, weird way and seemed ambivalent to everyone else, but... that was about it.

He'd have to see if he could speak to the animatronic alone at some point, simply to ask them a few questions—although that could be done once all of this was over. For now, it was time for Freddy to finally meet the literal ghosts of Michael's past, including the good founder of the company that made his very existence possible.

Ennard's many eyes watched Freddy as they led the way. The ones jutting from the back of their shoulder and just over where a kidney might be, were they human, blinked in a simulated fashion. Once the group had stopped, they too glanced around the corner with intrigue.

Things in this place typically ran from the amalgamate. The DJ so far had not appreciated them crawling through his tunnels, his mini-bots scurrying for cover each time the scraping of wires echoed through the vents.

Ennard was just happy that Michael may be finally softening up to them! Unfortunately, they failed to realize that Mike tolerating their presence was merely malicious compliance.

Together Gregory and Michael watched the feeds, switching between them in the backrooms, searching the surrounding areas before repeating a second time. It was worth it not to run into any other odd things William may have unleashed into the Pizzaplex. After another round watching the camera feeds, Gregory found little to see—

Then, a familiar pink leotard caught Gregory's eye. Chica. More dirty and busted than ever, she’d moved far from the garbage patch Mike and Charlie left her in. It would be unreasonable to think she had gotten into that back office by herself.

“Ch-Chica's out?” Gregory asked in disbelief, minding the volume of his voice. “But how? Charlie crushed her! She shouldn't be moving!”

“What?!” Freddy exclaimed, practically lifting Gregory off the ground by his arm in his haste to see the Fazwatch's screen.

To his utter shock, the boy was right: there was their old, faux-feathered friend, lurching along like she was about to fall over any second. It was hard to tell, but Freddy swore her beak and a good chunk of her face was gone... He hadn't seen the remains of her after being subjected to the garbage disposal and hoped he wouldn't have to.

“We can't let her see us,” Michael whispered, looking towards the direction the camera came from, which just so happened to be the one in which they were headed. He scanned the area and found a little janitor's closet on the other side of the hallway, and a quick jiggle of the handle proved it was miraculously unlocked. “In here—come on! We can wait until she goes past, then backtrack and find another way.”

The sounds of shambling, scrapping metal had grown closer as the crew entered the closet. Ennard themselves did not follow. Gregory held the door, but Ennard shook their head and took the handle, overpowering Gregory by pulling it shut.

“STAY INSIDE,” their gurgling, static-laden voice whispered.

There was a slight knock, the sound of Ennard blocking the door with his body as Chica rounded the corner on a painful limp. She even sounded like she was crying. Her voice box had fallen out, and the unrefined noise generating from her endoskeleton created a weeping, scratching sound. Glancing around with eyes rolling in their sockets, Chica immediately stopped in her torturous romp through the dark hallways.

She didn’t stop for having noticed the family’s escape, though—she paused because whatever stood in front of the janitor's closet wasn't something she wanted to mess with. The intimidating stare of the mysterious clown figure was already too much when she was horribly injured and in a state of deep disrepair.

As quickly as possible Chica moved on, not even daring to look back as she retreated the way she came.

The group huddled together and watched the camera as Chica stopped, staring at Ennard for an agonizing amount of time before shuffling on. Freddy's mechanical heart ached at the sight of her, and he had to fight the urge to push open the door and offer his help and consolation. He just kept reminding himself that after tonight, they'd get everyone fixed up and together again.

But... No, that wasn't quite true. Freddy wouldn't be with them anymore—not if he moved to a new body.

The slow, quiet motion of the door opening broke Freddy's train of thought. He tensed, arms wrapped around Michael and Gregory, though upon seeing it was only Ennard the bear relaxed his grip.

“Thank you,” he murmured, going so far as to gently pat Ennard's shoulder as he passed, being sure to avoid one of the eyes that blinked at him in surprise.

The group lingered just outside the door as they gathered their bearings and triple-checked the way forward—the closest Michael had allowed them to get too Ennard since they began stalking them. When comparing immediate threats, Ennard was much lower on the list than the stumbling, broken Glamrocks. However, that didn't mean they were completely without their problems.

“Ennard, I swear to god, if that wire tightens around my waist anymore I'm going to rip one of your eyes off and crush it,” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, trying to dislodge the relatively thin wire that'd snaked itself around his torso the moment he stupidly paused in Ennard's bubble. Even if this was supposed to be some sort of disturbing attempt at “comfort,” Michael wasn't here for it. For all he knew, Ennard was checking to see if this new body had a set of organs they could scoop out just like old times.

Ennard had squeezed around the smallest part of Michael's waist, the coil as thick as a strand of yarn—yet it remained to be an annoyance until it snaked off of Mike’s person. Still, they took their time trailing the wire down his leg to drag across the floor.

“MIKE IS OKAY..?” Ennard asked, attempting to be emotionally reliant like they had seen Gregory or Charlie be.

“I don't think he wants to be touched right now, big guy,” Gregory clued the socially unaware monster of a robot in before deciding to lead the charge down the cramped hall. No point in dawdling; Michael had family to see, and Gregory and Freddy had new ghosts to meet!

It may not’ve been outwardly obvious to their little group, but Gregory had been trying to display some sense of responsibility and awareness. He felt like since his accident, Freddy may not believe him capable of doing things on his own anymore.

“I'm fine,” Michael responded to Ennard tartly, shooting him a glare as he shuffled after Gregory. The feeling of that thin metal trailing across his body brought back things he did not need to remember right now.

He moved to Gregory's side, slipping his hand into his brother's and squeezing it in silent thank you for sticking up for him. He could tell the boy was trying to be the strong one through all of this, and Michael appreciated it. Freddy simply followed along, happy to take up the rear so Ennard could point Gregory in the right direction. The bear would occasionally glance over his shoulder, expecting to see a flash of pink rushing towards him, but the path behind them was deathly silent.

“TAKE... THIS DO—OR,” Ennard alerted the young boy. Gregory acknowledged them with a nod, eyes glued to his watch as he scanned the next room intently before walking on through.

“Just a heads up—” Gregory told the crew. “—we’ve officially hit the basement. Past this warehouse section, we'll be blind as far as cameras go.”

The way had become dark to the others, but Gregory walked confidently with hardly any lighting.

“WE ARE CLOSE... I CAN HEAR HER...” Ennard froze up at their place besides Freddy. With knocking knees and their hands pulled and tucked by his chest, Ennard had stopped in the hall. “AHEAD. GO DOWN, KEEP GOING—THEY'RE INSIDE THE PIZZERIA...”

Freddy and Michael's eyes were equipped to see in dim lighting, but they didn't seem as confident as Gregory as the atmosphere shifted. When Ennard stopped, Freddy looked back to them with a concerned tilt of the head. “You cannot go any farther? Why?”

“Just leave them,” Michael said, waving a nonchalant hand, correctly guessing that Ennard wasn't too fond of his little sister. He remembered their bickering, so loud and echoing in his head for a week straight. God, it was a wonder he hadn't gone completely insane...

Grabbing Freddy's hand as well, Michael took charge and continued their trip into the depths below. They were in another area of inactivity, a place Gregory had never been before—somewhere the living weren’t meant to be. Eventually, their path led them to quite a sight: the burned, dilapidated façade of a diner.

Chains barred the doors, but it only took a few pointed kicks for Mike to break the rusted links. The main room was lit by a few naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling and the trio made their way inside clutching each other in an iron grip. They stopped just over the threshold of the front door, listening for the spirits within.

A faint metallic clicking could be heard, distinct from Ennard’s movement. There was a thick, silent pause, before something in the shadows asked in the very distinct, soft voice of a little girl:

“...Who is it?”

“Lizzie?” Michael asked, his own voice hesitant and strained. “It... it's Michael. Are you... can I come in? I, um... I brought some new friends, too. We wanted to s-see you.”

There was another pregnant pause, before a lock clicked to a side room. In unison, the group turned and Gregory’s surprisingly well-adjusted eyes caught the glimpse of a... trash can moving?

The lump of metal darted forward, fast and sharp as it stopped mere inches from Gregory's face. In the two seconds it’d taken the completely scrapped animatronic clown to rise up and greet Gregory, he presumed this must be Michael’s little sister. She managed to scare a silent scream from Gregory's throat, causing the boy to fall backwards. He hit the ground as his mouth hung open from shock.

“You're strange...,” Liz told him, her crudely made hand resting on one of the sharp ruffles of her tutu. Though once she saw her brother—really saw him—her blackened eyes softened to a degree of heartache.

It was Michael as she’d known him in life. He looked like home, something Elizabeth wanted desperately to curl up next to and tell him about the lonely years she spent on the streets. But she couldn't. All she could do was stare at him.

“How are you doing that..?” she asked, wondering for a moment if this was a trick. A leftover hallucination caused by Henry's audio prompts. Their deceptive ruse had her seeing and hearing things that would never present themselves in front of her, even years later. Michael would never have come back to her willingly; she assured herself of that long ago. His soul had given up its ghost and moved on.

Like Susie and the rest.

Like her mother...

She barely registered the Glamrock bear, solely focused on the solid form of her older brother. Blinking, Lizzie came to the conclusion that this was a moment of true lucidity. Despite it all, for some reason Mike had actually returned.

“You… You really came back for us?”

“Of course I did!” Michael's tone was placating, though with an undercurrent of regret and relief combined in a way that made him sound like he wanted to cry. The sight of Lizzie's soul in such a burned, beat-up body would've been shocking had Michael not already witnessed it before.

“I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner,” he continued, managing a shaky smile as he stared up at her. “I never should've left you alone for so long... B-But I'm here now, and I'm going to help make things right as best I can.” He paused, his gaze roaming over the state of his sister.

Before he realized Lizzie's soul was trapped in Circus Baby after the horrible day she'd disobeyed their father for the last time, Michael had looked upon the animatronic with nothing but disgust. When he finally figured out that she was in there, hidden away and pretending to be something she wasn't, he still couldn't stand the sight of the cheerfully smiling clown. Yet now, the only thing he saw was the soul underneath, lonely and aching and deserving to be free.

“I missed you a lot, you know,” Michael murmured, a few tears escaping unbidden. He wiped them away, trying his best to be strong for his family.

Speaking of family, his new friend Freddy was currently having quite a time trying to process the animatronic before his eyes. His databank registered this as “Circus Baby,” although she did not match the reference image. She'd been changed, altered from years of torment, though Michael didn't seem scared in the slightest. When it was clear Lizzie wasn't a threat to anyone's well-being Freddy turned his attention to Gregory, who by now had gotten up and was wandering towards the other side of the room and pointedly trying to get away from the second freaky clown he'd encountered this weekend.

Elizabeth managed to produce the essence of a dower expression through the fixed smile lighting up her burned face. She cast her gaze down, touching her hand to the massive clawed arm as she furrowed her brow at the kindness Michael displayed towards her.

“You shouldn't,” she protested with a quiet sternness. “I hurt you, Michael. Deliberately.”

Perhaps years of abuse had finally caught up to the both of them, and now they couldn't trust their own feelings. How could Mike truly both understand and forgive her?

Gregory moved towards the soot-blackened glass doors of the pizzeria. Impossible to see in from the outside, Gregory found escape from the giant... clown crab to be unnecessary now. So he relaxed with her in his sights, crossing his arms as he leaned against various pieces of soot-stained junk.

The main pillar of his comfort had been a plush, half-rotted yellow bear suit. It reeked of mildew, though honestly Gregory knew he didn't smell great after a week without bathing. The ancient Freddy model hardly bothered him and his racing heart.

“Oh no—don't you start that, too,” Michael said quickly, shaking his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Lizzie with all the sternness a big brother could muster, although the effect was slightly lessoned by the fact that he had to look up to meet her gaze. “You didn't realize what you were doing—er, at least, not who you were doing it to.”

He couldn't help the grimace that crossed his face, though he managed to wipe it away before it could linger and gave a heavy sigh.

“Look... let's just agree that we've both been really, really shitty siblings. But now we found each other again, and I just... I just want us to not hate each other, okay? We’re too fucking old for that; we need peace.” This time Michael's face did twist, teeth clenched together and brow furrowed as he stared hard at the ground. “I really hoped you'd left this place after the fire... you deserve to be free, Lizzie. You and Evan.”

Elizabeth perked at Michael's short explanation. Though Liz's spirit was powerful and vengeful, she suffered from similar issues as her father. Her impulsive anger and fancies had led her down a rather stark path in her life, following in her death and afterlife now. While things weren’t normally black and white, she hardly ever found things to be grey morality wise. She could either justify her actions, or vilify them.

“I'm not mad, Michael,” Liz sighed. “Not anymore... Stop being a dramatic dummy and come give me a hug? Just—watch the claw.”

It sounded less like a suggestion, and more of a question. Would he hug her? Could he after all that happened?

“Don't call me a dummy, dummy,” Michael responded with a laugh, the quip flowing easily off his tongue as if they were back in their childhoods before everything went wrong. He was quick to lean in, wrapping his arms around Lizzie's torso and giving her a squeeze

Lizzie would’ve given Mike the biggest squeeze in turn, if she wasn’t certain he’d snap in half. Instead she settled for petting between his shoulders with her good hand.

“I’m glad I stuck around,” she whispered. She found no sorrow in staying behind. If it meant she got to watch her father suffer a little more at a distance, it was fine. Now that all Lizzie’s sibling were here, it was worth the wait.

Evan's soul had perked up at the sight of Michael, though the golden Freddy suit remained motionless in its slumped-over position. As usual, Lizzie attracted the attention first, though Evan didn't mind right now—honestly, he'd been enjoying the peacefulness of being the only soul inside the bear. He'd been a little peeved at Charlie when Cassidy suddenly warped out of existence, only to return and inform him and Lizzie of the Puppet's reawakening. Why couldn't she have pulled them all out?

Still, he couldn't stay mad at Charlie for long. She hadn't asked to be the one pulling the strings that tied them to these fur and metal monstrosities, after all. She’d thought she was doing something good.

To Evan's surprise, Michael had brought along not only a shiny new Freddy model, but a kid as well. Evan couldn't get a good look at the boy, first because he was too far away and then because he was too close, using the golden bear as an unintentional pillow. Curious about who in the world this child was, Evan decided to try and speak to him. His voice was small and quiet as he whispered a faint:

“...Hi.”

Lizzie was pulled away from her moment with Mike ever so slightly, though refused to turn around as Gregory whipped his hand in an odd pattern. He batted the air by the old Freddy suit in fear as he let out a startled squeak! When Gregory realized his mistake, he touch the sides of his head.

“Crap! Oh no—dude, I'm so sorry! Uh, let me get your... Your head—” Gregory laughed a little scrambling to grab the upper segment of who he assumed to be Evan as it rolled across the floor. Though he kept his chuckles to a polite minimum, as the last thing he wanted was to be perceived as laughing at Michael's sibling. He held up the heavy, moldy Freddy mask with a triumphant smile, ignoring the way the crude fur stuck uncomfortably to his fingers. “Here we go. Hi, by the way!"

“Why's it always gotta be my head?” Evan groaned, lapsing into silence as said object was resituated onto the slumped-over bear.

Cassidy was usually the one to take charge and control the suit, forcing Evan to take a backseat through most of their afterlife. It wasn't that he couldn't move the bear—he'd certainly been in the damn thing long enough to learn how to control it—he simply wasn't used to being front and center. Finally, Evan was able to get a good look at the new kid. This time, there was a subtle shift—a faint pinprick of light in the dark, cavernous eye sockets that seemed to move up and down as Evan let out a gasp of shock.

“Whoa... you... y-you look just like me!” he exclaimed, voice wavering a little bit. Always the nervous one, Evan Afton. But to be fair this was a weird situation, to be suddenly faced with what could be his identical twin. The pinprick eyes shifted to Michael across the room, then back to the boy. “I-I'm Evan, by the way. Um... how do you know Mike?”

The voice that echoed from the inside the suit was sweet and mild, with an odd sort of accent that Gregory couldn’t quite place. It reminded him a bit of those old black and white movies—like Evan had grown up being weaned off the British dialect of his siblings, yet was around them enough to inevitably incorporate some of it. Above it all, it was how calm the kid sounded that put Gregory at ease.

“Mike? Oh man—he saved me like a billion times!” Gregory confessed, wiping his hands off on his pants. “It’s cool to finally meet you. He and Charlie talk about you guys a lot!”

Gregory had reached out to fist bump Evan in greeting. Though a part of Gregory wondered if he could really move well when controlling the empty mascot.

Inside the suit, Evan was grinning from ear to ear. To know his brother and Charlie still talked about him after all these years made a warmth bloom in his chest that he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

Slowly a golden paw reached up, curling into a fist and gently touching its knuckles against Gregory’s. The huge paw dwarfed the boy’s tiny hand, but the gesture was clear. As Evan lowered his arm back down, he shifted into a more upright position. His movements were slow and measured, reminiscent of someone old and weary.

After releasing Lizzie, Michael glanced around the room to see what the others were up to. It was then that he caught sight of the golden Freddy animatronic settling itself against the wall, Gregory standing nearby and watching it with rapt interest. Instantly, Mike felt his mechanical heart drop.

There was Evan.

The little brother he’d so ruthlessly destroyed all those years ago, still trapped in the animatronic suit that was his downfall. Michael sucked in a shaky breath, wringing his hands as his face twisted into a mask of worry. Still keeping his eyes on the golden bear, he asked his sister:

“Lizzie? Does he… does Evan hate me?”

Michael was fully expecting the answer to be a resounding “yes.” How could it be anything else, after what he’d done?

Lizzie had nearly completely forgotten why Michael would ask such a thing. It caused her to look at her brother in alarm at first. Then when it finally clocked, Liz shook her head.

“No? He was really upset, for sure—I mean, you were an asshole. Never said he hated you, though,” she’d reply in honest candor. Elizabeth rolled her mechanical eyes. “He’s only been trying to get your attention for the past few decades!”

“…Oh,” was all Michael could respond. He spared a side-eyed glance at Lizzie, then began a slow shuffle towards the golden bear. Despite Lizzie’s encouraging words, Michael’s anxiety still wouldn’t be fully calmed until he heard them from Evan himself.

Enchanted by Evan’s state of existence, Gregory tried to peer inside the darkness of the suit. It seemed not even light could escape, and all he found were those twin, white pinholes. It soon registered that they were the same as what Puppet had in the depths of her empty sockets during Charlie’s possession. Were these Evan’s eyes, then?

“My name’s Gregory—almost forgot to introduce myself,” he laughed, excited to finally meet the kid that threw up blue popsicles around William Afton’s house. An absolute legend in Gregory’s opinion.

“Gregory… I like that name,” Evan said, not a hint of sarcasm to be found. He’d never been one to lie, his tendency to wear his emotions on his sleeve proving this near-impossible, especially when it came to him being upset. Although, somehow he and Michael still got up to quite a bit of mischief over the years…

The older brother in question had arrived at Gregory’s side, and the pinpricks of white snapped up to Michael’s face. The golden suit started to vibrate slightly with excitement—finally, Evan could talk to his self-lamenting sibling and tell him how he really felt.

“Mike! I mi—”

“Evan, I’m so fucking sorry!” Michael accidentally cut him off, too absorbed in his own thoughts to realize soft-spoken Evan was trying to talk. Sinking to his knees, Mike unintentionally matched Gregory’s height as he looked into the dark eyes of the decaying suit with the most guilt-ridden expression in the universe. “I’m sorry for everything… for what I did and for taking so long to realize you were still in there. I-I’ve been trying to set you free for so long, a-and I just wanted you to know that despite however you might feel about me, I love you and Liz more than anything!” He swallowed thickly, fists shaking where they rested atop his thighs. “…But I understand if you totally hate my guts.”

With that, Michael hung his head. The room was silent for a moment while everyone waited with baited, unnecessary breath for Evan’s response. Freddy took this opportunity to inch closer to Gregory, not necessarily to protect but just to better observe. He was having his own hell of a time processing everything, and couldn’t find the words to vocalize anything quite yet.

Eventually Evan spoke, the suit eerily still once again.

“Michael… it’s been like 40 years.” His tone was full of nothing but fond exasperation. “Yeah, of course I was mad at you for a while. I mean—yeah. But I haven’t been for a long time! I’ve been trying to tell you that, but either Cassidy hijacked my body when I got close or you just ran away!”

Michael bit back a sob of delirious relief. “Really…?”

“Yes! Oh my god—” The white dots rolled in affectionate annoyance, then flickered to Gregory. “—has he been like this all weekend?! He can get really stubborn and fixated on stuff… it drives me and Lizzie crazy!”

Gregory slung an arm around Michael, as he looked like he would collapse from emotional exhaustion any moment. He kept the poor guy propped up while nodding in confirmation to Evan.

“—Dude, the whole weekend,” Gregory remarked in good fun. “I’m really glad we found you guys; I feel like his internal motor was going to explode if he didn’t talk to you!”

Gregory could attest to the amount of times he and the gang consoled Michael over the tragedy. Lord knows he’d done the same for all of them, though that wouldn’t stop Gregory from affectionately picking on his friend.

“Correction; He’s been like this for years,” Lizzie inferred, her robotic body slanting to the heavier side slightly while she stood. She looked away, bashful as ever to admit when she’d been wrong. “We love you, dum-dum… Sorry I used you like a suit.”

Gregory looked up to the clown, noting her size, then back to Mike. What… exactly did that mean? That she wore his skin?

“You… Wha...”

Lizzie interrupted him with a charismatic wave of her claw. “Nothing. Don’t look so worried.”

Michael had closed his eyes while his siblings chattered around him, simply basking in the fact that he’d been forgiven. No amount of self-loathing could be worse than the feeling of Evan and Lizzie hating him for decades, cursing his very name for everything he’d done and all the hurt he’d caused the family.

But… they weren’t doing that. In reality, they’d been searching for their brother just as much as he’d been searching for them.

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf au #michael afton #glamrock freddy #ennard #evan afton #elizabeth afton #gregory #cc afton #crying child #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #angelofrainfrogs #zeitghest #spend the night #the wires that bind us au

[elshells]

Happy STS!

Today I’m asking for an anecdote related to your writing - sad, or silly, or sweet, whatever first comes to mind.👀

Happy STS! <3

An anecdote, you say? Well, the first one that came to mind is not super happy, but at least it has a good (or at least hopeful) ending! It actually has to do with how I ended up on Tumblr! It was kind of a butterfly effect.

This ended up being a bit longer than an 'anecdote,' because I can never be concise, so TLDR: After dealing with some shady shit on Wattpad, including but not limited to having my work plagiarized, I decided to branch out and meet more writers. My sister recommended I get a Tumblr, and about a year later, I finally got around to making an account, and now here I am!

Full story below the cut!

The first place I started sharing my writing was Wattpad, and for about five years that was the only site I used. I'd found a community I could be happy with, and even though a lot of us lost touch because of COVID, we would still read and comment on each others' works.

But then, I was smacked in the face with my worst nightmare—my writing was plagiarized.

I don't know if you're familiar with the site NovelHD (I think it's called NovelWW now? I haven't been able to find it tho). If not, it's a mirror site that has a similar layout to any other reader website, except pretty much all of their stories were stolen blatantly off from Wattpad authors. And I was one of the authors affected!

I found out after two of my friends on Wattpad made separate messages warning people about this website because both of their works had been stolen. So I went to take a look, and lo and behold, I discovered that they had copied both EMBR of the Earth and Agent Ace (Encore didn't exist yet). And y'all, they weren't subtle. They listed my Wattpad username as the author's name, used the same covers, and copied my blurbs and chapters word-for-word. They even included the disclaimer I added that basically said: "I only post on Wattpad. If you're reading this anywhere else, my work has been pirated." Even though I cried a lot when this happened, I actually started laughing when I read that. They were so fucking blatant and lazy with their plagiarism that it ended up being kinda funny.

I reached out to Wattpad and explained to them what had happened, and they responded basically saying that since the plagiarism hadn't occurred on their website, there wasn't anything they could do except encourage me to contact NovelHD directly.

Fine. It's frustrating to hear, but I get it. I filled out a DMCA form and emailed them, and then just... never heard back. Go figure. The people who cared about solving the issue couldn't do anything about it, and the people who could do something to solve it didn't care. And meanwhile, I was stuck in the middle of it all with a bunch of other unfortunate writers.

The extra little kicker came when one of the two friends I mentioned above messaged me and told me she managed to get through to NovelHD and get her stories removed from her site. The process had more complicated steps, but she told me that it had worked for her and a few of her other writer friends who were affected. So, I tried exactly what she told me to do (I don't remember all the details). Still, nothing.

It's then that I realized that my friend, and all of her other writer friends that got their works removed, were Wattpad Stars (which is basically the Wattpad equivalent of getting verified on Twitter). I was/am not a Wattpad Star.

So, the people who had a bigger influence on Wattpad were listened to, while those who didn't have a strong presence were ignored because we were less of a legal threat. I see how it is.

That was all about two years ago (circa 2020-2021). Wattpad has since made some questionable choices, which I could talk about more, but since this post is already way longer than it needs to be (oops, sorry), I'mma try and wrap up. I wanted to keep my relationships on Wattpad, but I also wanted to try and expand my writing to other platforms. My sister (who's also a writer) suggested I try Tumblr. I'd been enjoying screenshots of Tumblr posts vicariously off of Pinterest, so I knew it was my kind of place to be. After procrastinating on it for a year, I finally made an account earlier this year! And now I'm here, talking to y'all! Except it's getting late and I've got to get to bed sometime 😅 Regardless, thanks for being so accepting, and remember, if someone plagiarizes your stuff, don't let it get you down. They're the ones that fucked up, not you 💕

If you read the whole thing and made it this far, 1) sorry, 2) congratulations, and 3) thank you so much!!

#thank you for the ask! #storyteller saturday #ella thinks

[little-grey-dowitcher]

I honestly cannot fully express the extent of my frustration and exhaustion with these “left-wing” political commentators who are basing their unyielding, undying support for Joe Biden solely on the economy.

It’s mostly millennial and Gen X commentators doing this with the occasional boomer, at least from what I’ve seen, but they’re always saying some shit like “these younger voters not supporting Biden just don’t understand how great the economy is under him” and like no, younger voters not supporting Biden understand better than anyone that he’s a career politician who is just trying to appeal to as many people as possible and improving the economy is an easy way to do that. We also understand better than anyone that he’s not actually as left-wing as he makes himself out to be, he’s a moderate centrist in a leftist trench coat offering empty promises of change and progress to passersby on the corner.

I’ve even seen commentators I used to kinda respect outright bash younger voters like myself and write us off as naive while in the same breath trying to use how great the economy is to justify glossing over Biden’s refusal to stand against Israel and blatantly ignoring the fact that that’s exactly what every career politician ever would want you to do. They don’t want you to push back against them and refuse to vote for them when they do abhorrent and inexcusable bullshit, they want you to stay complicit and vote for them regardless because “Look! The funny money numbers went up when he was president! That must mean he’s doing good things only/it’s ok to ignore any bad things he did!”

Is the economy improving a good thing? Yes, absolutely, especially since we are still feeling the effects from the height of the ongoing pandemic. But the economy is one of the few things both parties can agree and work together on, so it generally tends to improve in some way, shape, or form no matter which party holds the presidency, as long as Congress doesn’t do something stupid. And to this point, I do think that Biden has been somewhat held back by Congress in terms of what policies he’s able to push for, since they hold a Republican majority and here lately they vote almost exclusively on party lines, making it difficult to get anything the conservatives don’t like passed. But it’s undeniable that Biden has rightfully lost a good portion of his voter base over his refusal to condemn the genocide of Palestinians and nobody should be making excuses for that, especially not if their goal is to get those voters back.

If these “left-wing” commentators really want to win over young voters who are disgusted by Biden’s support of Israel, maybe they should, oh I don’t know, stop alienating those young voters further by treating them like they’re ignorant and naive? Help to further pressure Biden into doing the right thing by using their massive platforms to condemn him? Stop acting like the economy is the end all be all for why anyone would want to elect someone as president? Because idk about you guys but I personally care more about the lives of millions of people than the fucking stock market, and am not going to be more inclined to vote for someone when all of his supporters tell me I’m being dumb and selfish for not voting for a guy simply because he made slight improvements to the GDP, and also the other guy he’s running against is a literal fascist dictator. I’ll instead be inclined to vote for a guy who listens when his approval rating drops to the second-lowest of any president in history because his voter base is saying “hey dude we don’t approve of your complicity in genocide” and decides to act accordingly in order to get those voters back.

#Palestine #free palestine #current events #us politics #politics

[alyjojo]

April 🌻 2023 Monthly - Sagittarius

Whole of your energy: 2 Swords rev

Whew, your meditation has me SHOOK, and they don’t normally do that. Rarely. Very intense. I’m literally shaking. I walk through the door on an extremely high platform, and there is a very PUSHY and insistent man immediately strapping me up to some zip line gear. The entire time, I’m trying to be polite, I’m saying no, I don’t want this, please stop. I’m getting very frustrated, emotionally panicking even, and he cuts me off. Says “have a good run!” and PUSHES me off of the ledge. Two things I hate more than anything in this world are pushy people and heights, which Spirit knows. So I’m screaming the whole way down, partially because I’m terrified of course but even more so because I’m FURIOUS my boundaries have been so blatantly ignored and disrespected, I want to ring this person’s neck!! I had to literally stop, walk away, and breathe after this ended. THE audacity! And at the end of the line, a similarly moronic person just lightly waved me aside with a sarcastic “you survived didn’t you?” Because my/your feelings didn’t matter to them. It didn’t continue to the point of violence bc…whew 😰

As soon as I pulled your cards I understood, you’re likely to end up ghosting someone, because they refuse to take no for an answer or pick up on a hint. Romantically. Very pushy, very insistent, and you’re trying to show signs you’re not interested. Trying to not be a dick. But they INSIST. Ack. That’s running for the hills energy. You’re trying to maintain your balance and stay level-headed. You’ve decided it’s a huge burden on you and you just want to let it go. This all could be switched and you’ve done this to someone else, it’s a more immature Sagittarian stereotype to think someone’s boundaries are “funny” and to push your will on others, especially water signs, which are coming out here strongly. Because when you think you’re right, that’s all you care about…even wrong, having done zero shadow work anyway. For the majority, I don’t get that it’s you, but it’s possible. An Ace of Cups connection is being abandoned due to a lack of respecting boundaries, and the other person is throwing their hands up.

What’s going on in April:

3 Wands rev:

You’re not hesitating whatsoever, once you make your mind up that this all is too much for you, there is no more conversation, no more chance for a new beginning with this person, you’re absolutely shutting down and refusing to communicate at all. Possibly going so far as to block this person. Ace of Cups shows this as being a new connection. 3 Pentacles showing up later, this could start out as a friend, a coworker, some casual connection. They seem to like you with Page of Cups and the Ace, it’s flirty beginning energy, but it doesn’t get further than that. You find this person very pushy, or they do, and whatever initial flirty gesture occurs seems to be the only one before it’s shut down.

6 Swords:

You are moving away from this connection and any drama you feel possibly stirring on the horizon. It does feel more like them than you, but each Sag has a different story. King of Cups is how this person is described, emotionally mature, wise, deeply loving, and nurturing regardless of gender. Could be a Scorpio, Aquarius is strong in this row too. With The Star, they could be needing to heal from something separately from you, in their own world, or they do have deep emotions and maybe even love for you that they hold back, waiting to gauge your reaction to their small Page offer or message. The Star could indicate they see you as a wish come true, and they take this very seriously. Or you feel this way about them. This isn’t even acted upon before the other one darts off in the other direction, blocking the other from access and refusing to entertain this. With this energy and the Page at the start, some of you may be wanting to apologize for initially cutting them off. Or they could be doing this to you.

6 Wands:

This person hoped for victory, success, recognition of their feelings. But what they got was defensive energy, possibly an argument, sadness and disappointment, either by something you’ve said or done, or vice versa.

8 Wands:

These are either very fast moving wands, so fast your head could spin and leave you wondering what the heck just happened. Like the meditation. Or they’re messages. This is clarified by whatever casual relationship you had with this person before, and The Tower, a complete sudden upheaval of everything that existed in this connection prior to this event going on between you. Whoever is bringing down the Tower, and in doing so, the rug has been completely pulled out from underneath the other person. The whole thing is very shocking to them, or you, and unexpected. This may be an event or a feeling, one person likes the other and the other is just “absolutely NOT” and were never seen from again, that’s the vibe here. Tarot can be very dramatic sometimes, so maybe not quite so shocking, but the tensions in both the meditation and the reading are high.

7 Pentacles rev:

This is giving up, completely giving up, the seeds that have been planted aren’t growing, there’s no point, it’s time to scrap this whole idea and start again somewhere else before any more time is wasted, what’s the point? Queen of Wands and Knight of Wands clarify, probably showing you. Either you’re not even bothered by this for long, and rushing off passionately into the next thing, or this person is seeing you as immature and unreliable, someone they have to give up on because…with a meditation of disrespected boundaries, no regard for the other person’s feelings, that message is bleeding through here. It’s like they have no choice. Or you don’t, but in the case it’s you, you don’t seem as bothered by this whole thing as the other person does from any angle. You two exist on totally different wavelengths, and I don’t think any effort is made to meet in the middle or figure the other out, it’s just a nice knowing ya, goodbye ✌️

A small side story I have here is this is a work colleague, not love, and because of these same insistent reasons and lack of respect or boundaries, you’re releasing the position, person even, possibly speaking to the others around you for support, you’re planning a nice knowing ya type of exit, or a transfer, which may shock the other people you work with. If so, I do see you successfully arguing your case. When I clarified specifically about work and you moving on to other things, you pulled The Magician, which is a very good sign ❤️

Signs you may be dealing with:

Scorpio, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Taurus & Aries

Oracles: ✨

11. Overwhelm

- The hard work we love can leave us feeling burdened, drained, and burnt out, among other problems.

16. Dream

- Connect to your intuitive dream world of metaphors and symbols.

2 New Beginnings 🌅

Water, emotion, energy, all life affirming and life giving. Patience is the key. Once the deluge of emotion passes, you will see that left in its wake is a wondrous new day, a rainbow of possibilities. Do not get attached to the emotions that surround this situation. This will only attach your identification with the emotion itself - giving it more power and hindering the release, so that the door to your new beginning will not open. Sit in the emotion, cry, journal, talk it out with a friend, and then let it go. Be thankful for the experience of the situation and proclaim to Spirit that you are ready for the newness that is about to come into your life.

We enter into April as:

Emaciated Periwinkle ⚖️:

“I must create before the opportunity disappears.”

This card is a good indication that something is out of balance in your life. You may be too focused in one area and therefore neglecting another. Change takes place in proper time. Slow down. With balance we gain the love and support we need to take risks. Periwinkle is also an indication you need to look at your eating habits. This could be a plea from your body to take better care of yourself. This can also point out workaholism or any compulsive behavior that has you feeling out of whack. Is there a part of your life that needs serious attention from you? This card wishes to remind you that...you take you wherever you go.

What is to be learned in April:

Silver Cloud ☁️:

“Every silver lining has a cloud.”

If confusion is a familiar state for you, then you already know Silver Cloud. Clarity is only available by journeying with him for awhile. Through a willingness to be in confusion, we find clarity. You are to slow down, meditate, contemplate, rest. If you were to know what lies ahead, you might not take on the next task willingly. You’re not supposed to know, you will when it’s time. Bide your time in gratitude and know that clarity will come along the way.

Silver may be a lucky color 🥈

#sagittarius tarot reading #monthly reading #april 2023 #Sagittarius #tarot #astroblr #tarotblr #free reading #monthly tarot

[throbbingwish]

Keep wondering when she will just stop being a bitch. I honestly think it's really funny how much she blatantly ignores me and treats me like I don't exist, yet stares at me ALL THE TIME. It's not like I did anything wrong either, all I did was call her out on her bullshit and how she was a shit friend who never liked me, treated me terribly and excluded me. And now suddenly I'm the bitch because I didn't put up with your unfair treatment? The audacity of her saying that me and my few friends splitting from the group "gave her depression". Bull fucking shit, you were one of the main root causes for my diagnosed severe depression that I have to go to therapy for because you treated me like a worthless, invisible piece of dogshit. You act like we're bullies, but you're the fucking bully! All you are is just a lying, manipulative, victim complex asshole who doesn't know how to form a taste of your own so you literally like whatever trending song is on tiktok. You get everyone on your side even though you're incredibly stupid and anyone with half a brain can see through you. You try and make yourself into the victim in every situation, and guilt trip everyone when you don't get your way. Upon meeting someone, you instantly decide that you're never gonna like them or treat them fairly and then exclude and bully them for 3 years! If I ever called you a bully, you would vehemently deny it. But you're worse than those bullies who are just outright cows, you're much meaner than them, you just know how to hide it with a nasty mask of passive aggressiveness. You're a worse bully to me than those girls you criticise have ever been. Eventually, all your friends and loved ones will leave you and you'll end up working as a shrivelled up hair stylist wondering why you wasted your life and peaked in highschool. When you die, nobody will come to your funeral because the only 2 people who supported you now are on the other side of the word living the same pathetic little life as you. I would tell this to you if I could, but you refuse to talk to me. You stare at me all the time yet you're too much of a pussy to actually have a thought out conversation about your behaviour. I wonder how people like you can be so immature and daft, but I'm not surprised. What I am surprised about is how society is 90% people like you, and how you have so many friends. Manipulative cunt.

[moonlight0507]

Do not want to be found

No one’s pov

After the guest left, the two twins decided to take a shower turn to remove all the make up after the shower they were getting ready for bed even if they had one bad, they liked it because they were able to cuddle up more like Angel was able to cuddle Daniel  love being close to his sister the problem is that they never actually know what their mother look like they she die when they were babies now looking back on it Daniel was able to make out some features that they both had between tom Shelby, the same eyes, the same attitude, same face features. It freaked them out. He hoped that he wasn’t his father. He will not let Tom Shelby ruin their life. They build their way up to the top and the circus they would not go down without a fight.

Polly Gray pov

I was waiting at home for after, Arthur and Tom need to come back from the circus I saw the posters, but I did not want to go the circus how funny. I saw Tommy come to the front door. How did it go? I asked tell me turn to so Tommy could be looking at me and he said I think I have children what you can’t have any children he hasn’t have a why you haven’t been with any woman why do you think you have children? I ask them then he said I saw two kids in a circus they were called the puppet masters and it was a boy and a girl they look just like me, but there was a difference. I looked at Thomas and said you find out if they are your children.

Angel pov

I have to go to the store today around two. I saw Mr. Thomas Shelby. he saw me and Waze, but I didn’t wave back. I just walked past him like he was no one. One of the last turn around and say hey, show respect to the peaky blinder. I just turned around and look at him blatantly until I said hey listen I just got back here. I don’t know who the Peaky Blinders are give me a break I only came to shop at some store. Also I don’t know him he’ll tell me I was about to say something, but I just said goodbye.

Tom pov

Looking at her now, I can’t believe there are two different people one that was in the circus session to be a child the meaning someone who talk to her sibling and ask the other life now she’s just saying I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me what is happening she does know me or I did she say, and that she not really know about the peaky blinder oh my God, but I did see her going to the store one to buy fabric field and food I didn’t know if she was going to ignore me for the rest of today maybe she just came by to town to buy something that she needs right?

Daniel pov

Why did I get stuck on seeing if there’s any food around here? Maybe there are some pump that we can go to eat lunch and dinner but I mean why will we go to a pub for dinner? Doesn’t make much sense I mean sure we might go for it for lunch but I don’t know why did I get stuck with this? I mean I just look around the little town then there is a pub but looks like it’s mostly for being an alcohol but thank God they look like it also serve food I decided to go and I have money on me, so then, my sister she need to buy new fabric for are doll and maybe some stuff animal says she can make I really like her rabbit ones we usually sell them. 

[opia-tarot]

⚡️ ╤╤╤╤ 🌪 ╤╤╤╤ ⚡️

random astro notes

rebellious placements

⚡️╧╧╧╧ 🌪╧╧╧╧ ⚡️

🌪 mars-uranus

especially the opposition, square and conjunction

Perhaps self destructive. But these are the people that really dgaf😂 They’re not scared to cause a riot. I love these people, they’re so fun to watch when they’re in their element. They come and go like a tornado, whooshh gone. They are literally like a lightning strike, electrifying everyone around them. They cause this chain reaction. Once they do something, other people want to copy. They’re trendsetters. Always on the move, looking for something fun to do or an adventure. If you tell them no it gives them fuel to start a fire, or perhaps an explosion.

🌪uranus-moon

especially opposition, square and conjunction

Try telling these people what to do, hold on i’ll go get the 🍿. Honestly telling them what to do is like pouring water in a sieve. pointless! They do what they want, when they want. They resist authority😂 The individualistic iconoclast. They are so unique. They can be very destructive if you try to contain them. They keep rebelling until they get their way. They have their way of doing things and they won’t ever get in the box. They will always be different. If you don’t allow them to express this individuality, they will make sure you do.

🌪pluto-sun

If they make a decision it’s impossible to get them to change it. They are STUBBORN. I feel like it’s about approach. If you are more soft about it then perhaps they listen. But usually they do what they want. These are the type of people you need to use reverse psychology with. Opposite instructions. You want them to clean something, tell them they don’t need to😂😂 They can’t be convinced. They are more subtly rebellious, it’s not necessarily in your face. But it’s more ingrained, part of their identity. They won’t change just because you want them to. I love this about them. They are so stubborn about sticking to their own morals and decisions. They aren’t scared to oppose what they think is wrong.

🌪mars-pluto

opposition,square,conjunction

I wouldn’t recommend telling these people what to do. They can really explode if you try. They are soooo stubborn, when they decide on something oof. They won’t stop until they get what they want. They aren’t afraid to deal with obstacles. Just make sure you’re not an obstacle. They can get pissed off if you prevent them from pursuing their own individuality. They’re not much about expressing it but more about pursuing it. Ensuring their decisions are actually theirs and not from influence of other people. It’s not rebellion for the sake of it, but to defend themselves. Just try not to undermine their individual autonomy.

🌪uranus 5th house

Ahhahah, these people are great! They are such a force to be reckoned with seriously. They are the epitome of unconventional. They don’t care about your opinion, they do what they want. They’re rebellious in love. Their art is rebellious. And the funny part is, it’s not usually intentional, it’s just what they like. They’ve always been like this so they don’t understand the fuss😂 They revel in anything unconventional. They’re RISK TAKERS and it usually pays off. They aren’t scared of change, they keep adapting. They experiment. Every boring parent’s nightmare kid ahahah. The kid in school who would blatantly ignore school dress code or wouldn’t even bother going to school half the time. They won’t bother if they think something is pointless. REBELLIOUS.

🌪aquarius mc

REBEL ALERT🚨 Every manager’s nightmare ahahha. They can detach easily if you try to make them do a chore/work they don’t want to do. They need a unique career, they shouldn’t work a 9-5 because it won’t be fulfilling. People see their rebellious nature even if they don’t fully express it. Their reputation has something to do with their eccentricity. They march to the beat of their own drum. Perhaps even make their own drum😂😂. Very cool people. They can be so influential too, they can start a rebel riot.

🌪uranus-ascendant

I had to include this aspect!! They are drawn to experiences that allow them to express their rebelliousness. It’s not always intentional either, it’s just their personality. They might have found when they were younger they kept attracting self destructive habits or maybe even pursuing their rebelliousness. They express their individuality and if you don’t like it they don’t care😂😂 They usually have something unique about their appearance. Piercings, tattoos, colourful clothes, ripped clothes, hats etc. They push boundaries and oppose rules. If they don’t express it within their style, then it’s usually within their decisions or the people they attract.

🌪sappho 11th house

Rebels with a cause!! They can really cause positive impact due to their rebellious nature. They can lead protests and they have the potential to be great activists. Friends could possibly be attractive artists. If they’re artistic, it would be appreciated by other people. Their art is usually shocking or very unconventional. It could be un/intentionally provoking. They’re very unique individuals. I really like this placement.

🌪uranus square sun

conjunction, square, opposition

Complex people. They could actually have to learn to pursue/express their individuality. Some of them have dealt with authority figures stifling their expression. So this can lead to a self destructive rebelliousness in younger years to oppose being confined. Usually such behaviour stabilises when they hit adulthood. They can feel this straining tension when they can’t express themselves. They often get restless and they feel like they need to escape. To start again. They are very independent and they need space to be themselves. They can’t allow anyone to control them.

🌪sagittarius mars

They really don’t care ahahha. They are very rebellious. If you try to interfere with their independence…. I wouldn’t bother trying😂 they need to feel free to do what they want. They like adventure and they want to experience different countries, cultures, people, music etc. They can be a bit restless and might just impulsively do stuff to use their energy. They have so much energy. If they don’t then they’re spontaneous. If they want to do something, they just do it.

🌪mercury-uranus

Less directly opposing and more mentally rebellious. The rebellious thinkers. They aren’t scared to challenge the conventional way of thinking or processing things. They challenge normality in a very intelligent way. They are very intelligent. The mad scientists ahaha. They have such unique ideas. They investigate and they oppose. Why do we have to think a certain way? I really like this placement. You know that meme that’s like-> do you ever wonder what’s going on in someone’s head?😂😂 Yeah i bet people think this about them.

🌪aries moon/moon-mars

Perhaps they’re more stubborn than rebellious but i wanted to include this placement. They’re very sure of themselves and this can really influence their decisions. Even if other people say they can’t do it, they’ll do it just to prove they can. Thrill seekers! Maybe even adrenaline junkies. They can defend themselves just fine, they can oppose society if they wanted to ahahha. They don’t care if you don’t like them, they do what they want. Cardi b has this placement😂😂

🌪 saturn opposite pluto

So their rebellion is very different. It can take these people years to realise how powerful they really are. Power struggles usually are a theme in their adolescent years. Once they realise their power, they’re impenetrable. They can literally destroy powerful/ societal structures if they really want to. Their rebellion can actually be quite dangerous. They won’t take your advice once they decide something.

🌪uranus dominant

I guess this is self explanatory. But of course they’re rebels. Of course this would also depend on their other placements, this can indicate how they handle/express their rebellious nature. Quirky, individualistic people. If they aren’t really rebellious then they’re geniuses. They are very interesting. But they need to be free and make their own decisions. They aren’t scared to keep pushing until they are free to do what they want. They’re VERY UNIQUE.

🌪mars-sun

They’re so determined, like an absolute unstoppable force. Once they figure out what they want, all guns are blazing. They will erupt if they’re stopped or prevented from doing what they want😂🌋 smoke out of their ears like 💨😡💨 They are so intense. They are actually unstoppable when they decide they want to do something. They’ll break barriers with their bare hands😂. I admire these people so much. Their rebellion stems from self belief.

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#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #opia tarot #tarot blog #zodiac #venus pluto aspects #astrology readings

[alicentsgf]

Things the americanised internet thinks is cute:

Dark Academia (photos of white kids in fancy uniforms at british private schools/redbrick universities)

Cottagecore (loads of photos of upper/middle class british gardens, houses, and villages)

British period dramas (literally just members of the gentry/nobility wafting around looking elegant)

Things the americanised internet thinks is funny and/or gross:

the british working class accent (notably the Multicultural London English dialect)

'chavs'

any british poverty food - baked beans on toast, cheap cut pies, chip butties, etc

pretty much any british regional accent (i know you cant understand louis from one direction pls just shut up about it. the upper class monopolises the media and arts so naturally you're more used to their accent)

when british people have bad teeth (dental care is not covered by the NHS and many working-class people cannot afford care out-of-pocket)

that the national dish is a curry. even though its a specific dish created (or at the very least heavily adapted) in the UK by the British Bangladeshi community? I lose my shit over this one. Like seriously the way you guys talk sometimes its like you think 'british' is synonomous with 'white'. You can't just erase entire communities to fit your narrative. I won't get too much into the racial aspects of all of these points but it's important to note jamaican, african, and south asian immigrants have brought a lot to british working class culture specifically. Like... you guys think its bad that they continued to enjoy their own cuisine and share it with the people around them once they got here? I swear some of you go so far with cultural appropriation you come right back around to 'everyone should go back where they came from'.

I understand most of you aren't surrounded by the cultural framework to understand how classist you sound talking about modern britain, but you are not immune to british propaganda just because you do not live here, in fact you're probably less immune as you (somewhat understandably) do not have the cultural knowledge to notice the red flags. But ignorance isn't a good enough reason to propogate classism thoughtlessly. I'm not saying you can't engage with elements of cottagecore or dark academia, but you definitely can't put repackaged aspects of middle and upper class british culture on a pedestal and then shit on all the aspects associated with the working class its so blatantly fucked up. Theres a good reason a lot of British people get so touchy about strangers on the internet mocking the rhotic british accents, americans just don't understand it because class-specific accent privilege doesn't exist within your cultural framework in the same way. You clearly all decided British people can't take a joke, but honestly it's just you're being a lot more offensive than you realise.

Do you not see how deeply wrong it is that so many of you seem to enjoy the superior feeling you get from trampling another culture? You guys will straight-up whitewash britain just so you don't feel guilty about it. You clearly think you're punching up but you're not, being british does not ensure affulence or 'whiteness' any more than being american does, and whenever any of you goes to say anything about Britain in a non-historical context all that comes out is pure classist ignorance as you leave middle/upper class britain absoloutely untouched. So educate yourselves, please. Working-class americans have more in common with working-class brits than they do anyone above them on the social ladder in the US.

#british tag #i will continue to lose my shit over this every week #until it makes its way into the internet mindset #im so fucking fed up #please please reblog this