#i never expected to post this and i feel so lame but fuck that feeling i'm not letting it stop me :)

[masschase]

Here's my OTP playlist again with full explanations of each song.

Bitch with a Keyboard, Asshole With a Gun: Matt and Casey's Journey

There is mention of nsfw stuff but I've kept it pretty vague tbh.

Wicked Game (Chris Isaak): I used the original of this because I already have a HIM song on this playlist. Still considering switching to the Stone Sour version. I know it's probably a cliché choice. But I felt like I needed a starter if this was going to be a cohesive journey. From Matt's side this reflects the fact Casey both spared his life and saved him from the simulation first. For Casey it represents that moment a couple of weeks into being on the ship when they've just had sex and they're just joking around together. She looks into his eyes and as I've said before, she sees a dangerous potential there and realises they just can't do this again. She has important world-saving shit to do and she can't just go falling in love with anyone. So she rambles out the rule about not sleeping with anyone on the ship more than once, and she sticks to it when more of her friends come aboard. Thing is, once those months have passed, everyone's like oh yeah, we all had that one time with the Boss, and doesn't think much of it. Matt is probably the only one who still thinks about that rule a lot, for obvious reasons. He has no idea he's the reason it exists.

Secretly (Skunk Anansie): This is really representative of the kind of mid-portion of their friendship before romantic feelings develop. When Matt in particular is trying his best *not* to be attracted to her (by the way the scene with him and Johnny regarding this is one of my favourite things ever ever ever I love their bond) but Casey keeps absent-mindedly telling him shit about how much she'd like to be pinned to the bed by a dirty talking Austen hero type and that sort of thing. 😅 Also kind of works from the opposite perspective. Matt wants to be with Asha so really he should be steering clear of Casey but he just... doesn't manage to. Honestly when I said a while ago I worry I portray Matt as a bit of a dick, it's this sort of thing I mean 😅

Dreaming Of You (The Coral): This could be an innocent enough song but thanks to Scrubs I associate it heavily with sex, plus with the kind of tempo it has... I tie it together with the feverish results of the interactions I mentioned in connection with the previous song. I don't know what the correct term is for "a captain and lieutenant listening to each other erm.... enjoying themselves through a wall and getting encouraged by each others noises" other than "inappropriate".

Right Here In My Arms (HIM): I really associate HIM with Matt; I feel like he has a bigass heartagram belt buckle hidden somewhere in his old flat, haha. Anyway, this is their friendship a little later on. "So hard she's trying, But her heart won't turn to stone" is very very Casey and this whole song is representative of the way she keeps returning to him despite the fact it's inadvertently leading to her falling for him.

Surrender (Billy Talent): I've said before how much the second verse reminds me of them "Even though I know what I'm looking for, She's got a brick wall behind her door, I'd travel time and confess to her, But I'm afraid she'd shoot the messenger.". It's very representative of both when Matt gets to the pining, unrequited (ok not really) love stage with Casey as well as the whole time travel plot and how that plays out. Also I just want to talk about the line "She wonders why I'm always in a good mood" because like... I constantly think about Casey thinking "Matt's secretly such a sweet funny guy, I wonder why not everyone sees it?" and it's like... he's comfortable around you my dude. He's happy and can be himself. His socially awkward has stopped socially awkwarding and that's why he doesn't need that egotistical facade.

Gunslinger (Avenged Sevenfold): for that period of time they are really missing each other during my fic. It was playing when they were bonding in Camden a year previously and Pierce complains that Casey starts listening to it over and over when Matt is gone. The bit that captures her is "I won't question why so many have died, My prayers have made it through yeah, 'Cause with all these things we do, It don't matter when I'm coming home to you."

Demolition Lovers (My Chemical Romance): This could really be placed higher or lower but it mostly makes me think of if Matt and the younger Casey really did go and do some "Bonnie and Clyde sorta shit" or really did run away together after the party. But it also makes me think of any situation of them running off and dying together. Which happens more often than you'd think.

Gone Too Soon (Simple Plan): Pretty much this whole album (Get Your Heart On) reminds me of the thing between 2022 Matt and 2016 Casey, and the band has links to both of their teen years in my hc. But this is the song they dance to and it has heavy foreshadowing for the next couple of chapters.

Last Dance (The Cure): It plays right after the previous song but they don't get to dance to it in 2016. That's really supposed to symbolise that this is not the end for them. But it sums up so much of the way I see Casey waiting nervously the night they finally get together, and they dance to it that night too. I've said this before but a lot of The Cure songs remind me of them.

Undisclosed Desires (Muse): This to me is very representative of their sexual relationship but also of the fact that even before they are together Matt begins to see more to Casey than the typical perception of her.

Running (No Doubt): This song is so them to me. The fact it's No Doubt makes me think of Casey, the fact it sounds like chiptune makes me think of Matt. The fact they do make this agreement that for the sake of their survival they will run instead of fighting when needed. Matt's surprise that she chose him of all people. Casey's fear that she'll fuck this up somehow. But the fact that they have each other through it all. I'd say it's between this and Last Dance for 'their' song, but I feel like this is the one that they'd think of as their song.

Deathbeds (Bring Me The Horizon): OK, admittedly, I have a load of songs on the longer playlist that could go here (I Will Follow You Into The Dark, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out etc.). But I feel like this one is a really good representative of that feeling of "I strongly believe we might end up dying together but I'm still never going to leave you.".

House on the Hill (The Pretty Reckless): It's a little more sombre than it should be for how I picture their future/endgame but nonetheless a lot of it relates. The way it starts with "Somewhere in the end of all this hate" relating to how they first crossed paths. The fact that what Matt manages to pull off more or less allows them to settle down by hiding/fading away, at least for a while. I'll eventually do a long post on what that entails for those who haven't read my fic but suffice to say it links back to themes from the first game of Aisha's name persisting through her music but her fake death protecting her. Nonetheless, the Saints are going to be forever and the next generation will inevitably get dragged in which is where "Until they drink the wine and they will, they will" comes into it.

Always (Killswitch Engage): I just wanted to end on a more optimistic note and sum up that although they are never going to *quite* have a traditional happily ever after, they will always have each other. Their love is eternal.

❤💜💙

#i never expected to post this and i feel so lame but fuck that feeling i'm not letting it stop me :) #playlist #sr boss: casey clark #matt miller #matty x cass #saints row #saints row boss #otp #spotify

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Smile❤️ (Yandere X Loser!Reader)

Micky thought that he couldn't feel love.

Ever since he could remember, Micky couldn't connect with anyone on an emotional level. Even his own family members were like aliens to him, creatures that stretched their lips into strange contortions, ETs that became unreasonable when he wouldn't do the same. As a teenager many girls flirted with him in school, hell, a few guys did as well, but none of their confessions ever stirred any emotion from him, even at the height of his puberty. The smiles of the people around him never felt warm or welcoming. Just, tight. Cheeks pulled back, revealing teeth, expecting him to mirror their action, and Micky couldn't understand why.

Nothing made him smile.

College was further isolating. Group projects seemed to no longer be a thing, (at least in the classes he took) so his interactions with humans slowly became less frequent, making his classmates look more inhuman and monstrous.

Until someone in his college was doxxed for being a creep. It was interesting, watching how quickly people turned on their friend, forcing him into an outcast because someone online revealed his private post history.

An annoying young woman in his language arts class gathered people around Micky's seat to talk about what had happened. Micky wouldn't have searched up the drama on his own time, but he didn't see the point in pushing everyone away.

"This user on Xforums, anonymousXnightmare is the one who doxxed Nathan."

AnonymousXnightmare? How fucking lame.

"That's a lame username..."

"Maybe it's a kid..?"

Micky did his best to ignore them, but the username kept popping up in conversation throughout campus. It was getting a little annoying. Some people were mocking the name, while others were praising the "internet hero". It started interfering with his ability to focus in his classes.

But the gossip cooled down after a week, and life began to run as normal, until another student had their life ruined. A football player, they didn't post anything incriminating or disturbing. It was anonymousXnightmare who posted their own collected evidence. Pictures taken from afar of the player with his highschool sweetheart, as in sweetheart who was still in highschool. Recordings of the two of them. Months of stalking all compiled by the stranger.

Again, Micky was bombarded by chatter, excitable young adults losing their minds over the situation. It was... irritating.

Back in his dorm room, Micky was scrolling through Xforums, the most popular forum used by students in his university, made by students for students, searching for the loser with the lame username. Scrolling past the photos he had heard about, he found a post stating

"Dear Allen Brackens, if you cannot stop blasting your shitty music in the halls on your shitty speakers, I WILL ruin your life!"

and Micky had to lean back, to just take in what he had read. That must have been the name of the football player. What he was doing was genuinely gross, and should have been exposed by someone. But did this poster really stalk them for what looked like months just because he listened to music they didn't like?

It was so dumb.

He scrolled down farther into the mystery poster's history, to the first man they doxxed.

"Dear Nathan McAllister, we all know you're a two faced little bitch. Either stop littering the campus with your Jesus pamphlets, or else..."

Micky, for the first time in his life, was amused. The whole situation was so stupid. They really ruined their fellow students lives, just because they annoyed them?

He made an account just to follow his mystery poster, not sure yet why he was interested to see what they would post next.

Less than two days later, and Micky's phone notified him of another post.

"Dear Samantha Rudbeckia, your obnoxious laughter is driving me insane. Can't you see how annoying you are? Knock it off."

That was it?! That was enough to set you off? Laughter? Micky paused mid step, still staring down at his phone. Something felt off about his face. It hurt.

It was pretty easy to find anonymousXnightmare in his school. Micky picked up a map of the university, and mapped out the paths of the three people targeted. They ran into a lot of different students throughout their day. But they only ran into a couple of people who openly seemed to hate them, and only one of those people was a student named (Reader). (Reader), who constantly appeared as though they would collapse at any moment, the hollows under their eyes so dark they looked sickly. (Reader), who despite being borderline anemic, was very sneaky, and very good and being unnoticeable despite their extreme appearance. Unfortunately for them, they had someone watching them as closely as they watched their victims bullies. Micky watched as they stealthily snapped photos of students from around corners, how they seemed to blend into the background and nobody noticed them hiding in waiting.

Micky felt ashamed for ever thinking you were lame. You were.. cute.

The way you crouched like a bug, hunched over like a roly poly scared of being picked up. The way you bit your dry lips in anger to the point they bled.

Micky's face hurt more and more. Every time he saw (Reader) a pain he had never felt before would strain at his cheeks, and his face would feel hot all over. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of himself in his reflection in a window that Micky realized he was smiling. He never knew that smiling hurt. But he couldn't stop it.

Pictures and videos of Samantha and her married professor were posted online, and Micky was excited to know what (Reader's) face would look like when they reaped the fruits of their labor. But when he snuck into their classroom, zooming in on their exhausted face with his phone's camera, he felt a new emotion seeing that (Reader) was just as annoyed as they always were. A hard pit fell from his ribs into his lower stomach. He was disappointed.

Why aren't you happy? You won. You should be rejoicing right now.

He felt conflicted and confused. Like an octopus was throwing a tantrum in his abdomen, squirming uncomfortably. And it ruined his day. Micky couldn't focus on any of his classes, and the rest of his day was like a foggy dream. What was it about (Reader) that attracted him to them so much?

A cute young woman with smooth black hair approached Micky, a dark blush complimenting her picture perfect face.

"Um, excuse me? Excuse me? Excuse me?"

Micky snapped out of his thoughts, turning his gaze down towards the beautiful person. Her rosey lips were slightly upturned in a posed way.

She's smiling.

Micky internally verbalized it. The same way he did whenever he saw anyone smiling. It never looked good. Smiling was so awkward, and strange. People loved seeing others smiling, and smiled when they were happy, but it always reminded Micky of how not one of them he was.

"Hi! My name is Maggie."

I don't care.

"We have econ together?"

"Okay."

Why was seeing her smile make her look fake, inhuman, alien? Just like everyone else. Then why was Micky so let down seeing (Reader's) lukewarm reaction to their victory?

"I was wondering, I mean, (laughs), a group of us are going out for drinks later, and we, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us.."

She giggled nervously, fiddling her fingers and biting her lip. The image of (Reader) practically eating their lower lip was triggered like a trap. This woman, whose name wasn't worth remembering, made Micky feel nothing. The uncanny feeling of speaking with a living mannequin or an advanced AI. Her movements weren't natural, her smile was just a contraction of muscles. Then, like an epiphany, Micky realized all at once what made (Reader) so special.

Maybe, it wasn't that everyone else was alien, but Micky. Micky was the only one who never fit in. The only one who didn't feel emotions or connect with others like everyone else could. And there was a bug walking around in human clothes, barely staying awake in class and casually ruining peoples' lives simply because they annoyed them. (Reader) wasn't a human either, just like Micky. That's why they didn't seem happy with their victory. Why would a human bring them joy?

Micky's lips pulled tight, smiling brightly at the young woman before walking away without saying a word.

You're the first person to make me feel, because you're just like me. Right, (Reader)? If no one but you can make me feel, then no one but me should be able to make you smile!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

(Reader) slouched over their laptop, their messy hair pulled back in a top bun just to keep their untrimmed bangs out of their eyes in the privacy of their dorm, eating another cup of noodle while reading all of their "fan mail". Samantha wasn't getting kicked out like they had hoped, but Professor what's-his-nuts did get canned, so hopefully when Samantha comes back to class she'll be too busy sobbing "woe is me" to find anything funny.

Ba-ding♪

A private message popped up from an account with an automated username.

(Reader) snorted so hard a noodle went up into their sinuses.

user01793664544001: I know who you are <3

"Ah-ow! God damn!"

anonymousXnightmare: Who the fuck is this?

user01793664544001: ur prince charming <3

anonymousXnightmare: Don't fuck with me

user01793664544001: come find me

"Watch me, bitch."

Looking up IP addresses is a lot easier than people make it seem. It doesn't take a genius hacker to doxx someone. Of course, (Reader) goes above and beyond, often following assholes for months to collect evidence of their douche baggery. (Reader) got an address in less time than it took to finish their noodles, and took down their hair, quickly setting out to start getting information on their newest "bully".

The address took them to another dorm across campus. How dumb are they? (Reader) faux chuckled, feeling superior to this newest dick. No one was quite as smart as them.

As they crept through the building, no one payed them any attention as they began taking notes on the residents. It had to be one of these losers.

They didn't have a chance to fight back, as they passed one of the rooms the door opened and pulled them inside faster than they had a chance to scream. The man who abducted (Reader) wrestled them to the floor, panting heavily.

(Reader) glared up at the handsome stranger, smiling down at them in a creepy way, his cheeks twitching like he had never smiled before, like his face hurt from the small action. His face was pink and he was sweating, panting with a feverish moisture glazing his eyes.

"Aren't you happy? You found me~"

"G-Get off of me, you pervert!" (Reader) attempted to kick the kidnapper off of them.

This wasn't the answer he was looking for. His smile fell briefly before bouncing back.

"You're just upset because you don't know me yet. Don't worry, it took me a while to realize you and I were the same species as well, so don't worry. I'll wait, I'll wait for you to realize you love me too..."

He rambled quickly, pressing harder against (Reader's) body. A strange noise squeaked out of his throat as he seemed startled, (Reader) feeling a bulge form against their upper thigh.

"Ah, I'll wait.. I'll wait for you to love me too.. but I need you to do something for me while I wait.."

Micky stuck his fingers in (Reader's) mouth, pulling their dry lips out till they bled across his skin.

"Smile for me..."

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere #pathetic loser #loser reader #tw stalking #bully reader #yandere fanfiction #gender neutral reader #romance #not proofread

[comet-forgot-you]

shotgun

amber x reader

ambers kinda cute or wtv 🩶

summary: amber is known for throwing the best parties in woodsboro, being anika’s best friend always secures you an invite.

warnings: 18+ pls weed consumption, thigh grinding, shotgun kisses bc yes, smut

a/n: this is my first time posting my work on anything, sorry if its not the best. do not repost for any reason🙏🏼 ao3

the cold fall air felt like a relief from the stuffy heat of amber’s crowded house. you take a seat on the outdoor couch, the backyard was empty, the small amount of people who remained at amber’s house either inside or passed out somewhere out front. you stuff your hands into you pockets and lean back, thankful the party was coming to its end so you and anika would be leaving soon.

“hey,” you look up, eyes locking with amber’s as she took a seat next to you.

“hey,” you sit up a little straighter, suddenly conscious of your appearance. she takes a joint out of her pocket.

“why’re you out here? party’s in there,” she says as she lights it. she puts the joint against her lips and you can’t help but keep your eyes trained on her movements.

“too many people,” you say, turning to look away, not wanting to make your crush on her so obvious.

“you smoke?” she asks, taking another deep inhale. you look back at her as she exhaled.

“not really, no.”

“here,” she offers her joint and your cheeks flushed, now worried about having to actually tell her you’ve never actually smoked.

“i um,” you pause, “i’ve never smoked weed before,” you mumble, adjusting your hoodie. she smiles lightly and you cant help but miss it when she puts the joint back up against her lips.

“do you want to?” you take a moment to reply. you want to say yes because its amber freeman. you want to say yes because her lips were just on it. but the thought of the thought of not doing it right scares you, and you want to say no.

“yeah,” but fuck it, you’ll do anything amber asks of you. amber smiles again, flicking the ashes off of the joint and she pulls herself over your lap.

holy fuck. this wasn’t what you were expecting. “this okay?” she asks. you’re looking everywhere but at her, your hands lamely at your sides, unaware of where you’re supposed to put them. she tilts your chin so you’re looking up at her, you grab her hips to ground yourself so you dont day something stupid.

“yeah,” you whisper. she smiles again.

“good. when i tap your neck, inhale, okay?” you nod with her directions. she takes a hit and her lips are on yours soon after. you grip her hips ever so slightly and when she taps on your neck, you almost forget what the purpose of this was. you inhale the smoke she blows out of her mouth. your lungs burn with the unfamiliar burn of the smoke. you blow the smoke out of your nose and amber keeps kissing you, her tongue trailing across your bottom lip. the hand on your chin trails down, grabbing softly at your neck.

your lips chase after hers when she pulls away and you hear a soft laugh. you open your eyes and you’re sure you look pathetic with how you look up at her but you dont care. “again?” you ask in such a quiet voice, you’re not sure she hear you. but when she takes a hit and taps your neck, her lips are back on yours and you’re inhaling the smoke again. you’re too focused on the feeling of her lips on yours you almost dont notice the roll of amber’s hips against your thigh. you groan out at the thought of her using your thigh to get off. she smiles in the kiss.

you help guide her hips against your thigh, flexing it, bouncing your leg ever so slightly, anything to make her feel good and when she moans against your neck, you feel like you might cum at the mere sound. “f-fuck, y/n,” the simple words making you melt. “you feel so fuckin’ good, shit,” she mumbles. her hands tangle in your hair, giving it a tug, exposing more of your neck. she sucks dark spots where she could reach, and you whimper when she runs her tongue over the bruised areas.

“amber, fuck,” push her cunt against your firm thigh, pushing and pulling her hips at a fast rate, a satisfied moan leaving her lips.

“don’t you fucking stop, y/n. you’re doing so fucking good, you feel so fucking good, fuck,” a whimper leaves your throat so pathetically. you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so caught up in the moment. “fuck,” she mumbles, bringing her lips up to yours. your tongues fight but its clear who has the dominant hand, and you wouldnt have it any other way. “fuck,” her hips stutter in your hold, a wet feeling slowly seeping onto the denim of your jeans. you slow your movements, allowing her time to come down from her high.

she struggles to catch her breath, panting against your neck. you bring your cold hand under her shirt. she arches into you, and she smacks you ever so slightly. “your hands are cold as shit,” she says, pulling your hand out of her shirt. she kisses your neck once more before pulling herself off of you. you cant help but miss the feeling of her warm body against yours. “fuck,” she whispers, swiping at your shoulder. you look at it, your hoodie sporting three small burn marks. “i put it out when i remembered it,” she says, a frown tugging at her lips. “guess i didn’t put it out in time, sorry,” she mumbles.

“its fine, theyre small, nothing to be too worried about.” she pulls your hand from your pocket and tugs on it.

“help me kick all of these people out and we’ll go for round two with a lot more than that,” she says.

fuck, maybe you wouldn’t be leaving with anika. eh, she’ll be fine without you, besides, she has mindy.

a/n: i wrote this in like 30 minutes. sorry 🙏🏼 how is this??

pt 2

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #scream #first post #idk what im doing #idk how to tag this #mikey madison #scream 5 #scream smut #amber freeman smut

[vettelinyourarea]

all of the girls you loved before - carlos sainz

genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

word count: 1,051

inspired by all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

warning: english is not my first language, otherwise none i think

feel free to give me any feedback!

When you think of all the late nights

Lame fights over the phone

Wake up in the morning with someone

But feeling alone

Your past relationships were not like the one you currently have with Carlos. When you first spend the night with him, you thought it would just be the same as waking up alone, because that’s how you feel when you dated other men. But you were surprised when you woke up feeling comfortable, being hugged by someone who you have come to know since you were just a child.

Really, no one was surprised when you started dating your childhood friend. You and Carlos on the other hand, were very very surprise when you learn about each others feelings for the first time. Your thoughts got abruptly cut off when you feel a kiss being pressed on your temple by a pair of lips you have come to be familiar with.

“Good morning, hermosa.”

Your past and mine are parallel lines

Stars all aligned and they intertwined

You first met Carlos when you both went to the same kindergarten. You remember you were playing with fake fruits all alone when he first came to you and stuck out his hand. “My name is Carlos!” he said with a toothy grin. And both of you are inseparable from then on.

All of the girls you loved before

Made you the one I’ve fallen for

Every dead-end street

Led you straight to me

You were crying in your dorm room alone when you suddenly hear a knock on the door. Trying to wipe off your tears, you immediately started to break down again after seeing who it was.

Carlos, standing in your doorway holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant down the street. You had not expect him to come to you immediately when you texted him about your relationship.

I broke up with him. He cheated on me with my fucking friend.

But here he is, hugging you while you cried your eyes off. You were surprised he came to you not even 30 minutes after you texted him, especially because he just finished training, preparing for the upcoming season. But he was always like this, always putting you first, even above himself.

Now you’re all I need

I’m so thankful for

All of the girls you loved before

“I should definitely thank your exes for this,” you said jokingly after feeling a little bit better. “What?” he said, quite surprised by what you had just said. It was not a secret between both of you that neither of you two have ever like each other’s exes.

“Yeah, she really taught you how to comfort someone. Remember when I broke up with my ex and you asked me to go fishing?” you said with a little smile on your face, remembering his panicked face when you started crying more hysterically after he asked you to go fishing with him.

“Please don’t bring it up again,” he said with a soft smile, trying to act annoyed even though all he could feel at that moment is happiness in seeing your smile.

“By the way, I can definitely treat you better than your exes,” he said.

“I know you can.”

When i think of all the makeup

Fake love out on the town

Cryin’ in the bathroom for some dude

Whose name I cannot remember now

You were at your backyard when he talked about your high school years together. “Remember when you cried over your crush when we were 16? I remember you were crying in your bathroom and didn’t want to go to school,” he said while laughing. And you can’t help but laugh at it too. Partly because of hearing his laugh, and partly because of how random it was.

“Of course I did! I was so sad because he posted a picture with his girlfriend back then, and I have always thought I would have a chance with him even though I’ve never even talked to him, I don’t even remember his name now!” you said with a big smile after hearing Carlos laughed once again at the story.

“Well, good thing I still stick around you even after you went to school with mascara all over your face.”

Your mother brought you up loyal and kind

Teenage love taught you there’s good in goodbye

Every woman that you knew brought you here

I wanna teach you how forever feels

It was no secret that Carlos is a gentleman. He never raised his voice at anyone even when he was frustrated, he always tells you about his problems so there is no miscommunication between you two, and he also always treats you like a queen. But one dinner though, he made a quite shocking revelation to you.

“You know, I got scolded by my mom after our first dinner as a couple together,” he said while eating his slice of pizza. You were having a movie night and dinner together to celebrate your second anniversary. “Huh? Why did she scold you?” you asked because you didn’t remember seeing him getting scold by his mom.

“Yeah, she scolded me because I forgot to pull the chair for you.”

“Ooohh, so that’s why you scolded me when I pull the chair myself?”

I’m so thankful for

All of the girls you loved before

But I love you more

“You know, I think I really need to thank the girls you dated before,” you said suddenly. Of course it makes Carlos shocked, you just got married and it was the first thing you said to him right after the ceremony. Not even I love you or I’m so happy or other romantic things.

“They made you become the man I’ve come to love, you know?” you said after seeing his confused look. Thankfully, it was quickly replaced by a soft smile on his face, mirroring yourself. “Well, I also become the current Carlos because of you, hermosa.” He said while looking at you.

“Well, I know that. I just want to thank them, you know? Although, I know that I love you more than they have ever loved you. That’s why I married to you now.”

“Oh, I also know that.”

#f1 #carlos sainz #formula 1 #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz imagines #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #vettelinyourarea

[weird-an]

nsfw, because of dicks (in the end)

The Creepy Kids Club made a fucking group chat that is called "Hawkins Monster Hunters". Max added his number a few weeks ago and since then, Billy has left the chat seven times on his own and got blocked three times by Max after one of their stupid fights.

It's not really about the stupid monsters. Demodogs are gone and won't ever eat anyone. So what's the point of the chat? Billy doesn't want to talk to dorks.

Apparently Henderson likes to sends photos of his fat cat, Mike Wheeler sends the most embarrassing selfies only Will reacts to and Sinclair sends a few basketball memes and well, that's something Billy can support. He gives him a like for each post.

But besides that? Billy leaves the group chat on read most of the time. Oh, or occasionally he lurks a little and laughs about Max' attempts at trying to look cool.

Steve Harrington is also in that group. On a whim, Billy saved his number under Pretty Boy. It's his phone, no one will ever find out. It's not like Steve is ever gonna text him.

Or so Billy thought. It's after midnight, he's on the way home, only that home is way too many miles away and he's a bit tipsy, after one or two - more likely five - cocktails he drank with Heather and God, it's that moment when he feels so fucking lonely, when he wants to cuddle and hates this shit stain of a town.

U up?

Billy almost trips. Pretty Boy sent this text. It's a mistake, Billy thinks. Maybe his name is right under Betty or so. Harrington is probably too drunk to realize. He's just gonna ignore it.

His phone vibrates. Another text.

Cum over

Poor Betty. What a lame booty call, Billy thinks.

This is Billy, he answers. His fingers are shaking. He shouldn't be nervous. Those texts aren't meant for him.

I know

Billy's throat turns dry. He's either more drunk than he thought or not drunk enough for this. This has to be a joke, right?

Got something for u

Billy stares at his phone. It vibrates again. This time, it's a photo.

Steve Harrington has sent him a dick pic. Billy knows what Harrington's dick looks like. He has pretended not to stare at that huge cock under the showers every practice. Fuck, he's pretty sure he could draw that cock, even get the thick vein and the mole just above it right.

He never expected to see it hard, the tip glistening with precome. Dark curls around its base. Harrington must have stopped shaving.

He shouldn't. If Neil ever finds out, Billy is still all the words he calls him, he's six feet under.

He stares at the photo again. His own pants are way too tight right now. He hasn't gotten laid in ages. He's way too lonely easy.

What's your address?

Harrington starts typing.

#steve says jump and billy does #modern au baby #also happy sunday #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | teaser one

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  Chapter one →

Summary: Going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, “Y/N”)

Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

Genre/AU: best friends to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18

Word count: 11,9K

Warnings/tags: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But for chapter 1 it's; pent up sexual frustration, vulgar language, a lame game of 'never have I ever', mentions of past sexual encounters, fluff.

Author’s note: I’m only finished with the first chapter, but I’m too excited about this, so I’m posting it as a teaser. Don’t expect me to post at a regular time, because as I said, I’m still writing it (though I have planned most of it out already 😉).

Teaser is under the cut ⬇️

Snippet:

“Nice tits,” Yoongi's mischievous comment hung in the air, punctuated by a chuckle that echoed with playful admiration. Heat rushed to your cheeks, turning them beet red as you instinctively glanced down your body, realizing with a sinking feeling that your white shirt had become transparent when it clung to your soaking body. Panic surged through you.

In a hurry, you covered your breasts with your hands, the wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Your heart raced, and your body felt hot, a combination of embarrassment and an unexpected wave of arousal coursing through you.

Why the fuck is he still looking? you thought with a mixture of irritation and intrigue. His gaze bore into you with a lazy smirk, and your skin prickled with a blend of vulnerability and desire.

“Stop looking!” you hissed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and frustration. The tension between you was palpable, an unspoken connection simmering beneath the surface as the world around you faded into the background.

In an angry, trembling tone, you hissed at him, “And don't you dare say a fucking word!” Your hands remained firmly pressed against your breasts, your skin still tingling from the electric encounter. With a mix of indignation and vulnerability, you turned on your heel and hurriedly retreated, the path back to the van stretching out before you, each step echoing the tumultuous feelings churning inside. You retraced your steps in stifling silence, the tension between you and Yoongi lingering in the air like an unspoken secret.

#new bts fic coming #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x reader smut #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi #myg x you #myg x reader #myg smut #myg #Friendcation_series #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfic #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bts suga fanfiction

[dbnightingale24]

I'll Wait For Your Love

A StevexReaderxBucky Messy Triangle

~~

~~

Everyone thank my husband because he fixed the wifi! This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here. I didn't finish this as quickly as I wanted to, but it still got done a lot faster than I thought it would (yay anxiety!).

Thank you @fuckingbye for always putting up with my shit, and always making me amazing moodboards because I'm lame as shit. I love you and I can't wait to tackle you with a hug <3.

As always, please heed the warnings and I hope you enjoy it! Here we go!

Word Count: 35,290 (it's called growth)

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), Slight Infidelity, Arguments, Drinking, Smoking, Angst, Swearing, Self Loathing, Fluff, Heartbreak, Lying (by omission), Daddy Kink, Uhh...I think that's it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Cling To Your Papers and Pens, Wait Until You Like Me Again

Summary: When two major parts of your past come back and ask for another chance, do you stand your ground and stay with the life you've created for yourself, or do you decide to test the water after all this time and see if it's worth the leap of faith?

~~

I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

It’s weird. You had made peace with never seeing either man again, yet for the past hour, the three of you have been in your kitchen arguing. Bucky snaps at you, Steve defends you, you snap at Bucky, Steve gets you to calm down, Bucky snaps at him, and you threaten to kick him out. Honestly, for the most part, Steve is the mediator. You’re assuming that they have some level of friendship again, or he just doesn’t want to pile anymore guilt and pressure onto you.

It was clear to you that he hadn’t expected Bucky to follow him and, if he hadn’t been so focused on seeing you, he would’ve noticed Bucky’s car. Apparently, with Maria being pregnant, Steve assumed that Bucky hadn’t even noticed his erratic behavior.

He should’ve been right.

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say,” you sigh for what feels like the millionth time as you stir the white sauce on the stove. “I can only apologize so many times, but it’s not like you were in the dark. You saw the connection between Steve and I, and you decided to pursue me anyway. I didn’t start cheating until long after you had-”

“You being in love with Steve was already cheating!” he shouts at you, and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Are you ever capable of holding yourself accountable? Or is it only when you know you’re in danger of losing me? You never apologized for cheating and you still won’t fess up to it, you never actually apologized for your behavior when we found out I couldn’t get pregnant, and even now, you’re just throwing it in my face that I cheated on you after you cheated on me. Is that what you came all the way here for? To yell at me and make me feel small in my own home? Because, if it is, you can get the fuck out right now. I don’t need this shit from you, James. I didn’t need it then and I sure as shit don’t need it now,” you say firmly as you finally turn to face him.

You don’t miss the small smile that comes to Steve’s face, before he takes a sip from his beer bottle. 

Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh before he ran a hand through his hair, “no, that’s not why I came out here.” “Then what did you come here for?”

“I wanted to see you,” he confesses softly.

You turn and open the oven to check on the salmon, “she’s pregnant, James. That’s what you wanted-” “I wanted it with you and you know that.”

“You cheated with her, James. You cheated with her because you knew it would hurt me the most, you fucked her at work, in our house, and went out with her after work very publicly to make me look like a fool. Then, you denied the whole thing to try and make me feel crazy, like I couldn’t see the lipstick stains on my pillow-”

“You hurt me!”

“Because I couldn’t have a fucking kid? You think that was a fun thing for me to find out?!”

“It wasn’t just the baby! You never loved me in the way that you love Steve, and I tried and tried-”

“Then why not just let me go?!”

“Cause I loved you. I love you.”

“Well, you got married to her a year after I left, and now she’s gonna have your child. Looks like you’re doing just fine.” “Don’t be fucking callous,” he scoffs.

“James, you followed Steve to my home to berate me, and you’re gonna sit there and tell me not to be callous? You went out of your way to have this argument, and for what? Because you couldn’t trap me into being in love with you? Go fuck yourself and die on that fucking cross you’re so desperate to hang yourself from!”

“Darlin’,” Steve snaps and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but fuck that. You want me to feel so bad for something I tried to ignore, and that’s not fair! What I did was wrong, but I tried. I defended you, I looked the other way, and never held anything over your head. You constantly went out of your way to hurt me, and I’m supposed to feel bad for finally following my heart? I’m supposed to feel bad because I wouldn’t let you trap me and make me hate myself anymore? Fuck that. I never played you for a fool, you did that shit to yourself, and I refuse to pay penance for it anymore,” you snap as you pour the bow ties into the boiling water. “God, where does your pregnant wife even think you are?”

“I just told her I needed to get out for a while.” “You’re such an asshole. I don’t even like the bitch and I think it’s a low blow. You leave your pregnant wife to tell your ex-wife that you still love her? What the fuck did you think was going to happen? What did you think I was gonna say? You thought I’d see the light and wanna take you back? You married her out of spite, James.”

“I do love her-”

“Well, clearly not enough,” you scoff, “this feels a lot like the pot calling the kettle black, because you love her, but you’re still pining over me? That’s fucking rich, I gotta say. You’re a real piece of work,” you chuckle dryly as you pour yourself another glass. 

“I wanted to see you...make sure you’re okay. Nat and Meg won’t tell anyone anything, Meg won’t even talk to me-”

“Well, what the hell did you think was going to happen, James? I’ve been her best friend since we were six. Yeah, she’s not too fucking fond of you after everything that’s happened.”

“So what? You just hate me now?”

“I don’t hate you, you self centered asshole! I should, I have every fucking right to after the last year we spent together, and I wish I did, but I don’t! You’ve been attacking me! I’m sorry that you decided to pursue the one person your best friend was in love with, and I’m sorry that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t love you the way I’ve always loved Steve. I’m sorry that I cheated on you with Steve and it broke your heart even more. However, a lot of this shit could’ve been avoided if you would’ve just stayed away! I’m not your fucking scapegoat anymore, James. You’re finally getting what you want, and you’re still not happy-” “I don’t have you! I don’t have what I want-”

“You had me and then decided to treat me like an object! I can’t do anything about the fact that you treated me like total fucking trash, James! That’s on you, not me,” you state as the timer goes off.

As you turn off the stove top, Charlotte makes her way into the kitchen and sits patiently.

“You know better little miss,” you laugh softly, “go lay down.”

She huffs, but gets up and walks back to her bed nonetheless, and your heart flutters at Steve’s soft chuckle. 

“So, that’s it?” Bucky huffs.

“I honestly don’t know what else you expect. I don’t know what more you want to know. Everything you’ve asked, I’ve been honest about, everything you deserve an apology for, I’ve apologized for...what else is there to say? What else is there to do?” you ask as his phone goes off.

Pulling it out (rather aggressively), he mutters, “what the fuck now?” before getting up and storming out, slamming the door shut behind him.

“If he breaks my house, I’ll break his neck,” you mutter, checking on the broccoli, before taking another sip from your glass.

“It’s Maria. She’s been on edge lately. She’s due in two months and she feels like Bucky’s attention is elsewhere.”

“I wonder why,” you scoff. “What about you? Are you gonna rake me over the coals too?”

“You know better than that, honey,” he sighs heavily. “We don’t have to-”

“You might as well, Steve. It’s why you’re here-”

“I’m here because I’ve missed you like crazy, and I wanted to see you. We’ve already gotten farther than I expected us too.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d wanna see me or not.”

“I was never angry with you, Steve. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I still cry over it,” you scoff, rubbing your forehead. 

“Then why-”

“I couldn’t do that to you, Steve. I loved you. I love you. Breaking up your friendship with Bucky? Stealing you from the Avengers-”

“I told you I’d go with you-”

“But you would’ve felt guilty. Yeah, you’d still love me, and you’d be happy to make a life with me anywhere, but you’d feel guilty. You and Bucky? I knew it could get resolved once I was out of the picture, and for the most part, I was right.”

“You didn’t give me a chance-”

“Because you wouldn’t have been logical about it, babe. Neither of us are ever exactly smart when it comes to each other,” you smile softly and he chuckles with a slight nod. “Please understand that it wasn’t something I did lightly, or that I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you. It seems like I’m always hurting you one way or another, and I’ve never wanted that.”

“We always find ways to hurt each other, darlin’. We can’t seem to get this dance right,” he sighs.

“No, we can’t.”

“Whatever you’re making smells amazing,” he smiles weakly.

“One of the many perks of no longer being an Avenger, I get to work on my cooking skills.”

“You’ve always been the best cook, babe,” he compliments as he gets up and makes his way over to you.

Having him so close to you still makes your brain so foggy, even after all this time.

“I’ll leave after dinner-”

“You don’t have to,” you quickly interrupt. “Neither one of you do. I have spare bedrooms...” “You’re comfortable with us staying here?”

“I mean, I’m already feeding the both of you and I don’t want you to spend the money, when there’s no need.”

“Still the most thoughtful person I know,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and you lean into his touch. “There is something I have to tell you though.”

“Oh God.”

“They know.”

“They who?” “Everyone. I told Tony I’d be gone for a few days, because no matter what happened today, I knew I was gonna need time to recover, and he kept saying that he needs me to train the new recruits. So, I just folded and told him where I was going.”

“Shit.”

“I’m sorry, I really am, but I needed to see you, darlin’. I had no right and it’s your privacy, but I knew he wouldn’t let me go if I didn’t tell him.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m the one that left the way that I did...”

“He wants to see you, they all do.”

“Steve-”

“I didn’t promise them anything, I just told them I’d let you know.”

“I guess I owe it to everyone, don’t I?”

“That’s for you to decide,” he smirks as his eyes study your face. “You smell like vanilla and strawberries.”

“It’s my soap,” you giggle.

“I feel like I should be angry with you. You looked me in the eyes and lied to me.”

“To be fair, you did the same thing, Rogers. For years.”

“That’s true,” he sighs, backing up and leaning against the kitchen island.

Your confusion is short lived when you hear Bucky come storming back in.

“Are you staying over or not?” you ask as the second timer goes off. 

He glares looking from you to Steve, “do you even want me here?”

“Whether I do or don’t isn’t the point. I’ve already made dinner, it’s getting late, and there’s no reason for you to spend money if you don’t have to. If you don’t have to go back tonight, I prefer you to stay where I know you’re safe. The last thing I need is for you to get into an accident on an almost five hour ride home, because you were sulking and not paying attention,” you mutter, dumping the bow ties into a strainer before transfer them to a bowl.

He looks taken aback (in a good way) , before responding with, “thank you,” and grabbing another beer.

“Ya know, I know you two can’t get drunk off of anything I have, but I do have stronger drinks.”

“This is fine, doll. Thank you.”

Well, at least he’s being nicer.

Soon enough, you’re taking the salmon out of the oven and breaking it up, before cutting up the broccoli and adding both to the bow ties. After adding in your homemade white sauce, you add just a bit of lemon juice and mixing it all in together. You can’t lie, it’s nice to cook for someone besides yourself for a change, even if the situation is extremely awkward.

“Uh, darlin’?” Steve asks softly as you take three plates out of your upper cabinet.

“Hmm?”

“Not to be creepy or nosey, but your phone keeps vibrating,” he laughs.

“Ah shit!”

You completely forget to answer the chat between you, Meg, Nat.

“Take as much as you want,” you tell them before sprinting up the steps.

Grabbing it off of the nightstand, you let out a small groan as you see the string of missed texts in the ‘Three Crazies’ chat.

Ms. Widow: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: What happened???

Ms. Widow: Steve heard me on the phone with Y/N, and hes taking a few days off go and see her.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Oh shit! Oh SHIT!

Ms. Window: I think Buck is going too, or something, cause he took a few days off too. Maria found out and she’s freaking the fuck out. 

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Fuck.

Ms. Widow: The whole fucking compound is buzzing, and Bruce is more than upset with me. Y/N, I’m really so sorry.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Has anyone said anything to you?

Ms. Widow: No, Tony’s been pacing all day and the team is kind of dumbfounded. No one knew where she was, now, both Steve and Bucky are off to see her. No one knows why the divorce happened...no one knows anything.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Babe, has anyone said anything? Has anyone showed up?

Ms. Widow: Oh God, please answer.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Starting to get worried here, babe.

Ms. Widow: Please don’t hate me. I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t know Steve was even around.

Y/N: They’re here now, both of them are downstairs eating dinner, and they’re staying over tonight. I’ll talk more after dinner when I’m getting ready for bed. I could never hate you, Nat. You should know that by now.

You place your phone in your back back pocket and run a stressed hand through your hair, pacing before you remember they can both hear you and just stand in the middle of your bedroom. How was everything spiraling so fast? How the fuck were you supposed to explain things without saying too much? Oh God, how the fuck were you gonna deal with Maria?

All of these thoughts were giving you a headache, and you’re growing hungrier by the second. Racing back downstairs, you walk right by the two sets of inquisitive eyes, and make yourself a large helping of the pasta dish into a bowl before showering it with a generous helping of Parmesan cheese.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Steve is first to ask, but the look on Bucky’s face lets you know he’s just as worried. 

“Everything is fine, just having a day,” you mutter, grabbing a fork and your drink before making your into your living room, and curling up on the couch.

You honestly aren’t even mad at them, but you’re now trying to navigate how all of this is going to work. You’d closed that chapter of your life, and had dealt with things in your own way, but now? Now, everyone knows and for as much as you hate to admit it, they deserve an explanation. It doesn’t matter that you technically did everything by the book (turning in all your weapons and any sensitive and classified details you had), you still abandoned your friends. The family you got to create. All they want is to see you and know that you’re okay, and who are you to say no? None of them did anything to deserve that.

God, you hope they don’t think you’ll stay. You have no desire for that life anymore, nor do you feel like seeing Maria’s smug fucking face anymore. No, you’re life isn’t exactly quiet now, but it’s a lot more calm and a lot more stable. You have your job, your fur baby, your home-

“Darlin’,” Steve sighs as he sits at the other end of the sofa.

You hadn’t even noticed that Charlotte had sensed your anxiety and stress, and curled up by your toes. 

“I’m sorry, this is my fault-”

“I’m the one who walked away like I did, Steve.”

“Be that as it may, I-we disrupted your privacy. No, I didn’t expect Bucky to follow me, but I...I just needed to see you and didn’t think about anything else. I haven’t seen much of your life out here, but I can tell it’s quiet, you’re happy, and you’re finally at peace. Now, you have a million questions to answer and people to answer to. I’m really sorry, honey.”

“It’s...it’s fine,” you sob, not even understanding why you’re crying.

All at once, all of these emotions just overwhelm you, and you feel as if you’re drowning.

“Darlin’?!”

“What the hell did you do to her?!” you hear Bucky faintly yell.

Everything seems to fade around you and all sound is lost. Your family, friends, past...you have to face them all. Everything you’ve tricked yourself into thinking you’ve healed from is all of a sudden back in your life at once; the scabs all feel torn off and bleed again. Without warning, no easing back into it, and you have no idea what to expect. What if everyone hates you? What if no one even wants to see you? Is Maria the favorite now? Is she in your old office? You faintly feel someone wrap their arms around you, and you honestly don’t care which one of them it is, you just cling to them in a weak attempt to bring yourself back down.

“Darlin’, you’re okay, it’s all okay. Buck and I are right here,” Steve promises with worry laced in every word as he softly rubs your back.

He pulls you close and you can tell he’s trying to regulate your breathing with his own.

“I need you to breathe for me, pretty girl. Deep breaths,” he coos softly.

“M...Meg! Please call Meg,” you sob.

“Call Meg!” he repeats harshly towards Bucky, and you hate yourself for how worried they both are.

You pray that they don’t start arguing, because you don’t know what the hell you’ll do, and you can faintly hear Charlotte whining and feel her little paws on your lap. You haven’t had a panic attack since your second night there, and she’s never seen you have one.

~~

This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here.

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #a03 fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #Patreon #patreon artist #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #chris evans character x reader #chris evans characters #chris evans character fanfiction #Seba #sebastian stan characters #Steve #stevexreaderxbucky #steven grant rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x f!reader #Steve Rogers x

[kimbapisnotsushi]

hey all i know a lot of us aren't on twt so here's a post of info from the translated material very kindly given to us by @TrianaNero. first we're starting with info from a bonus volume given to people going to the movie, in which furudate is interviewed about the characters!! some of the questions aren't really necessary to know, some are, and some i think are just funny, which is why there's a mix of them! find the full thread here, of which i directly quoted

kenma is STILL having trouble choosing a fave game BUT apparently his first game was mario kart 64!!

lev's weirdest nickname he received from the upperclassmen is "flora-san", which is (and this is a direct quote) "to honor lev's commendable gut flora that helps him always have good bowel movements" (LMAAAAAO I'M CRYING)

taketora's mohawk came from copying an italian player during his first year

okay i HAVE to include the question in this one because the question was "i admire how considerate and serene kai always is, how can i also become like that?" and the answer is. "face death once". ????? kai??? are you okay???

a "lame pun" that fukunaga likes is "happiceive" LMAO

other than racing each other, inuoka and hinata compete in who can eat fish the cleanest

THIS ONE IS ABOUT SHIBAYAMA MY BOY anyways the question was "nishinoya taught shibayama how to keep calm -- did he manage that?" and the answer was "i'm sure he still has a long way to go" so. it's a work in progress i guess (poor shibayama . . . )

"teshiro and tsukishima both try to avoid noisy places when eating or taking a break and because of that sometimes end up near each other" (this is SO cute i'm crying)

apparently the player that impressed akane the most at the tournament was atsumu?? girl you can do better

"what does alisa consider cool about her brother" "everything" STOP IT RIGHT NOW MY HEART

coach nekomata's favorite alcohol is "sake (the bitter kind)"

IUGASDAD LMNGAAAO ON THE OTHER HAND NAOI GETS "HALF-DRUNK "HALF INTOXICATED" FROM TWO GLASSES OF BEER (and his face turns red at one!)

furudate says that fukunaga was the hardest to draw "because i feel pressured to come up with interesting lines for him"

he also says that he'd be friends with yamamoto if he was on nekoma, because "once you get close to him, you become really good friends pretty easily"

the "we are the blood" speech was something kuroo and the others wanted to "come up with something original for the team" in their second year!! (i think for when they would become third years, according to the post)

AYUDSFBTFDKAS WE HAVE CAT MASCOTS!!! apparently they're all crossbreeds except lev and inuoka (i don't know enough about animals or cats to know what that means) kenma: calico kuroo: black cat yamamoto: orange tabby (@kanoyachi says that he's not neutered in that illustration of them which i have not seen?? do with that what you will) yaku: grey tabby kai: tortoiseshell cat fukunaga: bicolor cat inuoka: maine coon (I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS) lev: russian blue shibayama: tuxedo cat (SOBBING) teshiro: white cat

never mind i have since been sent that image. what the fuck

uhhh okay i don't entirely get what this one means but Q: Share a secret about Nekoma A: It's not Hanako-san in the toilet, it's Suzuki-san

the full lyrics of hinata's toilet song: "Toi-toi-toilet! Toile-let! Whoam I! The guy! Who'll become the ace! Fly fly a 100 meters! Go go 10k km! And befo-ore tha-at--" (repeat from beginning)

the reason why kageyama is concerned that animals don't like him: "when i was in elementary school, a toy poodle from the neighborhood who'd show his belly to anyone always kept barking at me for some reason"

the only times daichi was angrier than when kageyama and hinata fought was when noya and tanaka "wrestled and broke some equipment". and also when they "tried to race a car while running". apparently they ignored the first warning both times

IUAHFDOS FURUDATE GOT ASKED WHETHER SUGA OR FUKUNAGA WAS FUNNIER AND THE ANSWER WAS "i think it depends on the person. for kenma it's fukunaga"

asahi's favorite animal is "whichever doesn't bite"

Q: How to become as mentally strong/solid as Nishinoya? A: Do everything you're scared of

Q: Tanaka said he gets down in the dumps about once in 6 months, what caused that before? A: When he couldn't spike or serve or pass properly, be that practice or official matches

tsukishima likes shortcakes bc "he used to be rewarded with them for getting his vaccine shots" . . .

apparently yamaguchi likes soggy fries because "they have a very pronounced taste". whatever the hell that means??

Q: What was Yachi's most pessmistic episode up until now? A: When she got an award of excellence at a crime prevention poster competition in middle school. She feared that other people'd be like "why did they choose this", "there's clearly better submissions" (YACHI YOU ARE SO PRECIOUS)

Q: I like Takeda-sensei's "Chaaah!" when he drinks. What other sounds does he make? A: "Okkaree"

ukai got healthy eating habits from a book where he read that your muscles break down if you don't get all the nutrients you need, "and that gave him a really good scare"

Q: Who'd you be best friends with on Karasuno? A: Azumane. Peace.

so apparently a secret about karasuno is that they used to share the club room with a mountain climbing club which "disappeared" (??? i'm assuming that means disbanded it just sounds so ominous) and so they "ended up with quite a big room"

furudate uses a bird-person as his avatar because "i like birds and apparently i remind some people of a bird"

Q: What was the idea behind the recent bonus chapter? A: I wanted to include how nekoma realized it was useless to dive after that ball but they simply couldn't help it in the main manga—but it ruined the flow a little, so i took it out, and then I wanted to include it here.

(STOP IT I'M CRYING YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT COUL;D HAVE BEEN IN THE SERIES???)

HJKSDFGBJKSFD LMAAAAO during furudate's research process he took pics of the players and the seated fans during the match and received suspicious looks for it. and ended that question with "I'm sorry for acting suspiciously" and that's that!!! WHEW that was a doozy. i'll make another post describing some illustrations from the same thread, and one covering the magazine digest thread, so keep an eye out for that as well!! thanks for joing me!!!

#this is such a glorious treasure trove of info i am ELATED #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #sou says stuff

[nightgoodomens]

Okay strange anon but the sheens and Tennants have been dropping sooo many hints lately it’s genuinley getting to the point where I feel like they don’t really care if anyone knows. Idk if that makes sense but I feel like they’re either building up to actually coming out as some form of poly or something (which still feels unlikely) BUT if they are actually poly that’s four famous adults and about 100 blonde children to all keep something a secret that they aren’t really trying to keep a secret so it’s almost like back for if/when someone does slip up and the polycule tm (however that looks) gets leaked.

I mean Michael and David have been so very obvious from the very beginning but I honestly thought they will never confirm anything.

Look what’s happening at the moment at the mere suggestions - people are being called sick and twisted and not normal just for saying that these two are in love. Fucking hell. People are even finding all the excuses for them being neighbours, they can’t even cope with that.

So I thought no way these two will want to deal with this shit.

But… fuck, something seems to be going on.

Here is my take on when I think things shifted, this is of course a very personal guess, so obviously I might be wrong about this.

So before I get to that certain day - at the time I was only watching things unfold and not commenting on the blog about it apart from dropping a little hint here and there, sorry lovely people who sent me asks then and I didn’t respond, but fuck it, I’m going to talk about it now…

Remember that day GT posted that unfortunate picture of her child and said she was a drunk accident? She bragged about sex.

Remember how Michael went a little insane on Twitter about David then?

Because I remember seeing that and it kind of hit me and I remember thinking… fuck, Michael is jealous. And Michael is no longer happy with being a complete secret.

If I remember correctly, after causing uproar on Twitter that day, he went dead quiet - apart from just showing up quickly the exact moment David was on stage presenting in New York and then he disappeared again.

And things have changed since then.

This is when we started having David talking about Michael, his outfits becoming more obvious, and his behaviour, GT going very hard on queer promo highlighting everything queer he wore, now the outfits being a clear response to Michael’s “Thin Dark Duke”, etc.

December.

Suddenly a private picture of DT and MS.

Suddenly a perfect picture of Michael and David sharing the most special look after Macbeth, like there’s nobody else in the room.

I expected damage control. Surprisingly no.

Instead we got Lapland. One big happy family. In their matching sweaters. And when the general idea was for a photoshoot of Family/Couple/Celeb-on-their-own - we got family and a couple… of Michael and David.

That was a lot within just a few weeks.

And that was PR, official photos. But not the damage control that I expected, instead another nod to the family thing.

Then Georgia starts promoting Anna’s paid for photoshoot and they’re playing wives which is horribly lame to look at because there’s such a lack of real sympathy between them that it only highlights to me how real MS/DT are. But! It does work to show the whole family thing, doesn’t it? It does push the whole we are one big family and nobody is a victim here.

(Also I think they hope she gets a job and goes, considering how miserable Michael looks by her side)

And now we are here. GT dropping on us that they’re neighbours. It’s only beginning of February.

And I see people doing mental gymnastics regarding whether it’s rented or bought and whether door by door… it literally doesn’t matter. At the end of the day the point is the effort to live close to each other.

My opinion though - there’s bigger probability that Michael and David discussed Michael getting something in London and David letting Michael know as soon as a house became available on his street - rather than a house miraculously becoming available to rent by David just when Michael needed it for NYE. Unless David owns another house and rented it to Michael. But - the specifics don’t really matter.

Curious now then… GT just dropped this before Michael’s Graham Norton show and David having something that day too I think?

So… we are either getting damage control next or we are continuing feeding the rumours.

At the moment to me it looks like they want people to realise that there indeed is something going on. Either so if something slips then they go “well… we never hid anything” or there will be some sort of confirmation.

But when I think about confirmation… There’s already been love declarations. What else is there to say?

#NightGoodOmens answers

[sapphicsundance]

Corazón Sin Cara

a/n: this is the first thing i’ve posted on tumblr and probably the last unless there’s enough demand 😭 ik the hype for miguel has died down quite a bit but i hope those that are still around like this silly little thing i wrote for funsies :) (srry if he’s ooc :( )

warning(s): mentions of alcohol (no one’s drunk), cursing, anyone can read but written with chubby!reader in mind, mentions of reader wearing dresses and heels but no pronouns used, no use of y/n, nervous miguel lol

Description: A night at the bar with Jess and Peter B., that’s all tonight was supposed to be. But because the multiverse is seemingly always against you, you couldn’t just have a fun, peaceful night without it being ruined by something (or someone). That’s why you found yourself in your current predicament, flustered and stiff as you swayed with the (admittedly attractive) leader of the Spider Society that was usually so cold towards you.

All you could feel were his hands on your waist, his skin warm even through the fabric of the dress you wore. Peter B. and Jess watched from the sidelines, idly chatting by the bar with smug looks on their faces. You sent them glare from across the room which only caused Peter to snicker and whisper something behind his hand and for Jess to send you a teasing wink. You heard a whistle from your dance partner, his index finger tapping your waist to grab your attention.

“Lost you there for a second.” Miguel’s head tilted slightly as he spoke, a small smile gracing his lips. “Oh- Uh- Yeah, sorry…” You stammered as you shook your head to snap yourself out of your stupor. Honestly, you couldn’t recall how you got into this situation. All you remembered was nursing a drink or two before being swooped away by strong hands, not even able to protest after he muttered a demand for you to dance with him just loud enough for you to hear.

From what you understood, Peter planned these outings sometimes in an attempt to have a “bonding experience” with others in the society. While the notion was sweet, schedule clashes and many other factors tended to leave only the small group you were with now. Miguel was an unexpected addition, half-jokingly invited by Peter in one of the many one-sided “conversations” they tended to have. No one actually expected him to show up, hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks as he deadpanned at Peter’s overly enthusiastic greeting. He barely spared you a glance, giving you half-assed wave before almost immediately ordering a drink.

You scowled at the lack of acknowledgment, bitterly taking a sip of the drink you had ordered earlier to get the sour taste of his disdain out of your mouth. Sure, he may not have said anything to Peter, but he chose to be around him. Miguel avoided you like the plague, always making up some lame excuse to leave the room whenever you two coincidentally had a moment alone. When you confided in Jess and Peter with your complaints, they simply gave each other a knowing look before shrugging dismissively and waving off your concerns.

You felt left out, like some inside joke was being made and your gut was telling you that you were the subject of it. No matter how hard you tried, you could never decipher that look that they gave each other.

But your current predicament was a direct contrast to his previous behavior. His big hands were soft against the plushness of your waist, it was as if he was afraid of breaking you. You could smell the hints of alcohol on his breath when he got close enough, but he was still very much conscious of everything he was doing, which only confused you more. Why would he be consciously dancing with you when he can’t even stand to be in a room with you? Is he just trying to fuck with you?

Even though you both were just lazily swaying to the song playing over the speakers of the bar, you were stiff. You didn’t know where to put your hands and you were avoiding direct eye contact with him, seemingly finding the empty tables over his shoulder more interesting than Miguel himself. You heard him let out a short, breathy laugh before his hands gently guided your arms to rest on his shoulders. Goosebumps riddled your skin as his fingers ghosted over your forearm before moving back to your waist. The new positioning only brought your faces a couple of inches closer, but with the way your face heated up you may as well have been cheek-to-cheek.

You were quiet for a moment until the song you were swaying to changed, a vaguely recognizable bachata melody playing over the speakers. Miguel visibly perked up at this, looking down at you as if he was waiting for you to say something. “What?” You asked with furrowed brows, narrowing your eyes in suspicion at the look he gave you. He shrugged in response, answering your question with a question of his own. “You know this song?” It was your turn to shrug. “From family parties, mostly. I don’t even know the name of it or what it means but I’ve listened to it too many times to count.” He raised an eyebrow at your explanation and let out a small hum, nodding in response to your words.

“I’ll lead.” He murmured, his gaze flitting around different points on your face, taking in every curve of your cheek, every eyelash that fluttered up at him, every wrinkle of your skin as you gave him that pretty, confused look he loved so much. “Here, let me just…” His voice trailed off and his hands pulled you in by your waist, his knee slotting in between your thighs. You didn’t say anything, the way his body pressed against yours and how his lips were so close rendered you completely speechless. You gave him your warmed cheek, eyes fixed on a nearby wall as he led the steps of your dance.

You were quite rusty, so it took you a moment to remember the steps to the dance. His proximity definitely didn’t help either. But before long your hips were moving to the beat of the music as well as they could in your tense and flustered state. You felt him lean down, his soft breaths fanning along the shell of your ear as his hands moved to rest on your swaying hips. “‘And if you’re fat or skinny, none of this matters to me.’” You turned your gaze back to him at his murmured words, a perplexed expression on your face. “Excuse m-” He shushed you softly, effectively cutting off your words.

He was quiet for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration. “‘And I am not perfect either, all I know is that I want you the way you are.’” You stared up at him with pinched brows, your lips twitching into a scowl. He was starting to piss you off. He snickered at your expression, giving your hips a small squeeze. “Just translating the lyrics, you said you don’t know what the song is about.” He explained, trying to stifle a small smile in fear of annoying you more than he already was.

It didn’t work.

You stopped moving, pulling away from him but keeping your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked suddenly, brows furrowed in confusion and frustration. You reveled in the way his eyes widened in shock and how a nervous flush crept up his neck. “Wh-what do you-” “You know damn well what I mean, Miguel. You avoid me for no reason but you’re pressed up against me the second you get some drinks in you.” You huffed frustratedly, eyes searching his face. The flush had made its way to his face and he avoided direct eye contact with you, his eyes darting around every feature of your face other than your eyes. You pulled away from him completely, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him expectantly for his explanation.

He stood quiet and you scoffed, pressing your tongue against your cheek. “Can you at least have the decency look at me when I’m talking to you? Or do you not respect me that much?” His eyes widened and locked on yours at those words, his head shaking in disagreement. “No, that’s not what- It’s not because I don’t respect you…” He trailed off. He sounded desperate, like what you suggested was so outlandish he had to put a stop to that train of thought the second the words left your lips. “Then what is it, Miguel?” Your arms stood crossed over your chest as your heel-clad foot tapped against the hardwood floor of the bar impatiently.

God, he hoped he didn’t fuck this up.

“You just…” He cut himself off, sighing deeply and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to ground himself and will away the heat lingering on his skin. “You make me nervous. So nervous.” Your eyes narrowed at his vague explanation and you stood silent, a wordless way of telling him to continue. “I-I can’t explain it, you’ve been stuck in my head, it’s so frustrating.” He ran his hands through his hair with an exasperated huff. “Your laugh, your face, it’s all so annoying… but I can’t get enough of you. I hate feeling like this.” He rambled.

Your eyes were wide when he finished speaking. It felt like the world had gone silent, all of the music and low murmurs of the people around you fading into silence, leaving only the two of you. You suddenly broke the silence with a soft, unsure laugh that slowly escalated until you were gripping the sides your stomach in genuine amusement at the situation. He let out a few tense laughs, an embarrassed flush on his face. “So…” Another laugh cut you off before you took in a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the giggles that were about to escape you again. “So instead of just asking me out, you decided to avoid me? And then what? The feelings would just go away?” You teased, a bright smile still on your face as you continued huffing out quiet laughs. He looked away from you with a pout, shrugging in response to your question. His response only made you laugh more.

“I thought you hated me.” You sighed after finally calming down from your laughing fit. “… I could never hate you…” He murmured after a moment, his face still turned away from you. You crinkled your nose at his words, shaking your head softly as you moved towards him again. “That was really cheesy but… sweet, I guess.” You shrugged with a small laugh, snaking your arms around his neck. He startled slightly at the contact but rested his hands on your waist.

“So… anything you have to say to me?” You mused, lightly tapping his nape with your fingers to get him to look at you. “Sorry for ignoring you…” He murmured begrudgingly, a stubborn scowl on his face. A smug smile spread across your cheeks. “Oh, that was cute.” You cooed teasingly. “But no. I was thinking more ‘Will you go on a date with me so I don’t have to pathetically avoid you anymore?��” You deepened your voice, mocking his tone with a small laugh. He rolled his eyes at your antics, attempting to stifle a small smile. “Okay, okay, I get it, I was being ridiculous.” “Understatement.” You murmured.

You watched his face as he filtered through many, many different emotions before he finally sighed in defeat. “Will you…” “Yes.” You answered quickly with a stifled smile. Miguel chuckled after his initial surprise. “Friday at seven?” You smiled. “Friday at seven.”

#across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel x chubby!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #this was completely self-indulgent #hope you enjoyed :) #chubby!reader #idk what to tag this as #i have no idea what im doing #help #pls comment #i need validation #i’m so scared to post this #writers anxiety 😥 #Spotify

[nexusnyx]

godspeed; [fezco imagine]

SUMMARY: Living in the shadows of your classmates served you well to keep you alive until college. High school could be dangerous, and toxic, and hectic. The only problem about being a wallflower is the missed opportunities, and he is the biggest chance you never took.

That’s alright, though. It’s not like you ever had a chance with Fezco. Right?

⚠️ Mentions of drugs, addiction. | 🏷️ Fluff, strangers to lovers; WC: [5.3k] | 📑Posting this again because some people asked for it. If there are any other Fez scenarios you want I can check if I still have them. Mwah.

The thing about being an addict who meets another addict was that they could bring out the worst in you.

It might happen without meaning to, and they'd do it without any notion of the effects it might cause on your life. With one request from them, or maybe getting stuck in the same room as another one who's a little like you and bam—five years of sobriety would go down the drain.

Rue could be that for you.

Thanks to Ali and your last two years in therapy, she won't be. Not tonight.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” Rue asks. Her eyes are dropping low and she pouts in an adorable manner. She’s high. Very high.

You shake your head. “Thanks.” Her new friend Elliot gives a sharp nod before he and Rue leave together, and you take a second to send a prayer in secret that Rue makes it tonight.

You didn't come back to this damn city to get attached to someone and just watch them die.

After a sad chuckle, you turn around to see what else is there to do in this party she brought you which is not one-third as lame as you imagined it’d be, and that’s when you see him. It takes a second for your brain to understand why it stopped dead in its track at the sight across from you, but when the light flicks just right in his freckled face, you recognize him even with the beard.

You freeze.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck—is that Fezco?

You look away for a second, then back at him. Across from the glass wall that leads to the pool patio there's a gazebo, and he's sitting in the steps talking to someone. The place is crowded and illuminated mostly by colorful lights, but you'd recognize those eyes and cheeks anywhere.

It is him.

Looking good. Looking five times more handsome than he ever did before dropping out of school, and by the looks of it, doing the same thing he did while he was still in the halls of East Highland.

He's smoking and staring with a blank expression to the bodies dancing and walking in front of him, and after catching a second person not subtly slipping him money for a handshake of something, you realize that yup—he's dealing.

And he looks ridiculously good doing so.

A glass of whatever the hell Rue mixed is downed in a second, and you go to the kitchen in search of more.

Fuck your entire life.

Who would've thought Fezco O'Neill would still be living in this shitty town?

Studying with Fezco all those years ago could've been one of the many things your years of substance abuse took out of your early memories hasn't it been for how much you thought of him back then. Even though you two were never friends, never passed beyond the stage of awkward small talks, you enjoyed him. His presence.

One could say you had a crush.

You loved the short and brief interactions you shared with Fezco back then—he came to school often until a certain point, and given the nature of his job, talking to Fez was almost impossible since he talked to everybody, all of the time.

People gravitated towards him in groups, alone, in couples; either because of the drugs or just because he was one of the few people who you could sit beside and not feel anxious, or like you need to try too hard.

The party Rue brought you to has many more teenagers than you expected. It was granted, and you ignored it. The music is decent enough, but you can almost feel the small web strings of drama tying the entire party together. You'd like to blame Rue for you being here, but you can't.

She's still seventeen.

When you were seventeen, you were… well. Doing the same she is now.

Sadly.

You'll blame Ali for being invited over to his daughter's house and dropping the Bennet Bomb on your lap. He pays in food, and that's always nice.

Navigating the party to try and find something to do or a conversation pit that is nice proves to be worthless, and you start worrying that this night will be a bust.

You may be sober from all the pills that one day fucked you over, but your fucks still happened every once in a while because of the other things you still fell back on when shit got hard, which, considering the world and its state—it's often.

At least alcohol and weed make you less of a mess. This party had both. The night could be fun.

You promised Ali you'd keep an eye on Rue—she's doing poorly and a trainwreck tends to crash and leave traces if you don't see to it soon. But if you're staying, you need at least a joint.

Or two.

Fuck.

You stop the first teenager you see, "Hey, is there any other dealer in the party other than Fez?" You ask.

The boy scoffs. "'Course not," he says, then walks away.

Fair enough. No one would be stupid to try and deal at a party in an area where people even drive to meet Fez; he covers the crowd of this (and a few other) high schools for years now. Of course it's only him.

There's no reason you shouldn't go to him. He's not even gonna recognize you, your brain tells you.

The boy scoffs. "'Course not," he says, then walks away.

There's no reason you shouldn't go to him, you think. He's not even gonna remember you anyway. It's a bitter reminder, but the taste leads your legs outside to the gazebo in hopes Fezco is still there.

And even if he does remember you, the same voice says. It's not like you two ever had a lot to talk about. As you walk, you remember Rue mentioning to Ali a few days earlier about how her friend who is a drug dealer had beaten Nate Jacobs into a pulp. She told Ali the reason why and even though you had no idea who Nate Jacobs was, he sounded like a fucking cunt.

You kinda hated to have missed the show.

Part of you is wondering what will happen if Fezco does remember who you are, but it's not like that is a big deal either. He'd say hi, make small talk and then what? Reminisce about the days when he sold you Codeine or Demerol and you lived through the stages of a fucked up household while high out of your fucking mind?

Right.

Your palms are sweating. You check the bills inside your dress's bust again and fix the edge of your glitter sleeve, stepping close enough to see the pool and—there he is.

Fezco is talking to a guy when you step outside and to your happiness, Rue and Elliott can be found with Kat in the garden close by. You can do this.

You walk until your platforms are knocking on the edge of the first step, and Fezco only turns around when the guy leaves his side. He turns taking out the joint that's behind his ear, fishing for the lighter that must be on his front pocket, but then he sees the legs standing right in front of him and lifts his head to look at your face.

"Hi," you shake your head at him. "Please tell me you still got weed." I might have to drink tequila like a frat boy if you don't. It's the frown that tells you Fezco's mind must be trying to connect the dots, and before you can offer him any hint on why he sort of recognizes you, a smile breaks out in his face and surprises you into stunned silence when he follows with, "Oh, shit. You're Y/n," he points at you.

"I'm—yeah?" You know your crush used to be big, but you fight down a knot at trying to recall if his smile had always been this charming. "Yeah, it's me," you try again, not wanting to sound like a question. "You're Fezco. Hi again," you wave a hand again.

This boy always left you tongue-tied, but you'd be damned if he got you looking stupid this early into a conversation.

"Wow." Fezco's smiling dopely, and the way he looks you up and down have your skin running a little hotter. "Been a long time. Hi, little ma."

Fuck. He's sitting down, but Fezco chill raspy voice still makes him feel inches taller.

"Hey, Fezco."

"You said you wanted weed?" He asks, finally lighting up his joint.

You look at the orange smoke illuminating his face and nod. "Yes, please." This is still as awkward as it was back then. "I'm not mentally ready to be this surrounded by teenagers," you add without thinking.

Fezco laughs at that, taking his blunt between his fingers. "Word." He fishes for something inside his jacket's pocket. "You want the flower or you want a pre-rolled?"

You pout. "That depends. Who rolled it?"

Fezco smiles. "I did."

"Your joints looked like tiny spaceships, man. No offense." Back in school together, you never bought weed from Fezco because you hated how smoke made you cough, but you saw the pre-rolled he sold to your classmates, and he rolled like shit.

He surprises you by laughing again, and then he gets up. "Damn, ma—your memory's good, huh?" Fezco looms over you for a second before leaning against the handrail, and he takes out a pack from a pocket. "I got better at it. Look. Looking like they came from a factory, see? I ain't selling shit I wouldn't be smoking too."

His joints really are looking professional, and you laugh again, this time with him.

"Cool—they look good," you nod in approval.

Fezco who's had a smile on his face since he put a name to your face nods too, looking even more pleased with himself. "Cool. One's $3. Three's ten. Five's fifteen. How many you looking for?"

"Gimme five."

"Five?" He blinks in surprise, but starts picking them one by one.

"I'm looking out for a friend of a friend and I have a feeling she's not going home anytime soon." You give him the money, and in exchange take the blunts. "I'm not taking chances."

"You don't have a purse, where you gonna put 'em?" Fez asks, taking another look at your outfit.

You pull on the fabric of your renovated shirt and show him the pocket you sewed on the inside. You make a show of opening it, putting four of the joints inside, then close the button.

Fezco chuckles. "Aight. You're prepared." He looks you up and down again, and you fidget in response, organizing your corset underneath the shirt. "What brought you back? Wait—why did you leave in the first place?"

When Fezco left school in seventh grade, you still saw him for a few years. Whenever the pills ran out at your place, you ran to his and Ash's place for more.

You shrug your shoulder, and light the one joint you kept in your hand. "I left to go live with my Aunt."

He doesn't need to know the why, nor does he care. Whatever it is Fezco remembers of you or thinks of your person, you can bet it isn't that your mother preferred you living in another state than keeping the junkie her neglect created at home.

"Really?" Fezco asks, and he sounds just as genuine as ever. He looks behind your shoulder out of nowhere and you notice another boy hovering your conversation, most likely wanting something out of him and you're about to say you'll leave him alone when Fezco shrugs a hand in the air for him. "Ain't available. Find Ash," and without even looking for his response, his eyes are back on you. "Was your aunt nice?"

His voice drags out, the same way as it did before.

It's still distracting. "Yeah." Auntie, unlike Mother, lived a real life. Had real problems and, as consequence, helped you with yours. Fez probably didn't care about that either, so you exhaled the smoke and changed the topic. "And you? Last I remember you quit to help your G Ma with business and your little bother. How's Ash?"

Fezco smiles, and you feel your heart skipping a stupid beat at it.

Even his smile has gotten cuter.

"You remember that?" His words drag out, and he smacks his lips on his teeth.

You frown. "Course I do." I always had trouble forgetting anything related to the cute and funny ginger boy who always has a kind gesture or word to offer if you need. Fezco nods, looking at you through his eyelashes and this time, he keeps his eyes there. "Yeah. Stuff's been good, you know."

His careless demeanor never hid from you the small things, like the way he narrows his eyes when he's lying through his teeth. You hope whatever 'good' he's been getting, it gets a little better.

Before you can ask something else, Fezco goes on. "It's weird that you remember that. About Ma G and Ash."

That comment leaves you even more confused. "How come?"

Fezco shrugs his shoulders again. "Dunno. It was a while ago, lil' mama." You two laugh at that, because word. "'s the reason I knew I could trust you, too."

Fezco trusts you? "You trusted me?"

"Trust. Ain't gone away just 'cause you left," his smile is so nonchalant that it makes you smile in return. "No one ever found out why I dropped—just assumed 's for what I do. Lots of rumors 'n that's it."

He's right about that.

Through hazy memories, you recall people trying to create the most dramatic reason for Fezco's drop out in the cafeteria as well as in the streets. "Yeah… I remember that." You hum. "Always found that strange."

How was that a twelve-year-old Fezco managed to keep his grandmother's sickness all to himself was beyond you.

"Exactly." The way he says the word makes you leave Eastland high of all those years ago and focus on him again. He said it as a confirmation, and when you frown, he elaborates through a chuckle because he notices you're already high and just as lost as before. "You're the only one I told, Y/n."

"Wait. Really?" That couldn't be. Fezco had friends. Good ones and not-so-good ones, you imagined. "Why?"

"Yeah, lil' ma. You the only one who asked," he shrugs it off, speaking through the clouds of smoke.

You're the only one who asked.

"Oh." That made the flutter inside of you get worse. So much worse.

Sure, Fez always answered when you asked him things, whether it was about his brother, or his grandma Marie, or even himself, but picturing a world where people never even ask him about those stuff seems foreign to you.

Maybe that's because you always wanted to know.

The silence stretches out for a few seconds between you both, only the smoke of your blunts creating a thick fog around, almost like a bubble.

Fezco still stares at you and your clothes, and you try to move only your shoulders to the beat of the song because his eyes are as sharp as they were before.

"What brings you back, then?" Fezco asks. Someone else pops up right behind you and he exhales his smoke a little annoyed. "Not now. Find Ash."

That's the second time he blows off a customer to keep talking to you and—yup. Just as you feared the first time it happened, this one leaves your cheeks burning bright.

You clear your throat and look away from him in search of Rue as an excuse, hoping he doesn't see it. "My sponsor is kinda like a dad to me. And he sponsors… that one." Rue's still sitting underneath the same tree with Elliott, and you release anxiety you forgot you were holding on to at the sight of her. "So I guess you can say it's babysitting duties." You shrug. "If you're asking why I'm in town specifically, it's 'cause my Aunt moved in business for a year so," you shrug, as if saying this is where I gotta be, I guess. I have nowhere else to go. Instead of asking about the sponsor as most people do, Fezco's still looking in the direction your finger pointed.

"You babysitting Rue?"

"Yeah."

"Word?" You nod at him, giggling a little at how happy he got out of the sudden. "Fuck, man, that's kinda good to hear, I ain't gonna lie to you," Fezco laughs at that, really laughs like he's happy in his most genuine form. "She's my friend. Rue. She's kinda like family—I know she a mess, but." He takes another drag, looking between you and Rue this time. "I ain't selling to her hard stuff anymore, but…" Fezco sighs. "I'm scared if I don't give her what she want, she'll just find it with someone else, ya feel me?"

Double fuck. "Damn." Fezco dealt for Rue. Who ODed. Who's relapsed for the second time. Damn it. Knowing Fezco the little you did, you knew he felt a silent ocean of guilt over it. "She's good, Fez."

You reach out with your free hand, knocking your knuckles gently against his forearm. "She got a good sponsor, 'kay?" You lift the joint in your hands. "This? The only reason I still got a grip in shit's because Ali takes none of my bullshit and still manages to give me good advice between all the crap I try to sell 'im. She's not in a good place, but she is a good kid. Stuff takes time, that's all. Plus—she's still young. Surrounded by drama, all the fucking time. She needs to get to a place where she wants to be alive for real, and she will. Eventually."

Even though it had been only two pancake visits since you and Rue met, the kid got her vines in you, somehow.

Just like Ali, you believed in her.

"Yeah." Fezco nods along with every word you say, and when you're done, he's smiling again. "Yeah, okay." Has he always looked this fucking breathtaking while smiling? You might have a heart attack. It's a good thing you're not swimming in opiates anymore. "She got a good sponsor and apparently a guardian fucking angel, so I'll believe in ya."

The blush worsens at that, and this time, Fezco catches it. He laughs at you, and you knock your fake Versace Medusa platforms against his chin.

"I am not an angel," you laugh.

"I dunno, it might be the lights or sumn', but you lookin' like one," Fezco looks from the soft pink light that's casting a shadow on the pool area and you, and you wished it was red so it masked your reaction to him instead of highlighting it.

"You always been this sweet talker?" You try, laughing it off.

Fezco's just being nice, you tell yourself.

"My bad, ma." He must notice you're getting a little too flustered, and changes the topic, too. "So how was it with yo Auntie?"

You push away any thoughts of school behind and try it.

Having a conversation with Fezco turns out to be much easier than 11-year-old you imagined. Maybe it was because he was in a year above, or because he's always had those sweet eyes and smiled so rarely, but his intimidating persona fought a valiant battle and lost every time his personality entered the ring.

Eventually, though, Rue gets lost from your sight and, as you promised, you have to go find her.

"Fucking hell," you mutter to yourself, getting up from the steps. "Uh—I'll be back?"

Fezco looks up at you. "Really? 'Cause if you say you'll be back, I'll wait."

You smile down at him. "Then, I will be back."

Finding Rue while high and happy out of your mind feels almost hypocritical.

The sea of teenagers and the smell of alcohol, weed and sweat does nothing for you when all your brain can focus on is Rue Rue Rue Where Is Rue as well as Fez Fez Fez, As Sweet as Ever, Fez Fez Fez. He looks so pretty.

He pulls off the beard, too. His voice is lower, much lower than you remember—puberty hit that boy in the chest, and all the smoking can't help, either. And if he—oh shit, that's Rue.

"Rue Fucking Bennet!" Your scream is met with the sight of Rue looking like a parakeet. "Yeah, you."

"Oh, shit." Rue looks behind her, and, of course, there's Elliot. Is that a bathroom behind them?

"Oh, fuck nah." You stride to them, anything that isn't Rue and that bathroom momentarily forgotten. "You are high enough." You push past Elliot and stand in front of the bathroom door. "I ain't watching you snort too many lines for your already high-ass brain to keep up with. Go fucking find something else to do."

"Shit, Rue. You never told me you brought your mom," Elliot teases.

You point a finger right on his face. "You better learn when to shut the fuck up, Elliot." I don't fucking like you, Elliot. "Did she tell you I'm here 'cause I caught her almost passed out in a bathroom? Did she?"

From the sight on his face, she obviously hadn't. Called it.

"Exactly. Why don't you stick to your fucking lane and go roll the two of you a joint or something and I'll stick to my lane of not letting the addict decide how much coke is enough coke for her, huh?" Your blood is boiling already, and Elliot's right. You sound like her mother, and yet, you can't bring yourself to care. Turning your face to Rue, you see her looking sheepish between you both. "Trust me. You can find other shit to do."

Rue sighs, but you caught the fleeting fear in her eyes when you mentioned the bathroom. "It's not gonna help," she tells you with what it's supposed to be a mindless shrug, but—there it is.

The sadness underneath the addiction.

You take a deep breath and step closer. "Why not?"

Rue shrugs her shoulders, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "'Cause this party fucking sucks."

That was debatable, but she looked to believe it, so. "Why does it suck?"

Rue finally pins you with a look, and you watch her struggle. Feel her feelings, or burn them to the ground?

When her eyes start swimming with water, you let out an exhale, happy that she chose the feelings. "'Cause Jules' not talking to me."

Oh, young love.

"Fine." She was not gonna get what she wants from this party, and she's the one reason you're here. "Why don't we leave, then?"

"What?! No! It doesn't suck that bad," Rue defends.

She's not ready to leave yet, but it'll be soon. She probably wants to martyr herself, staring at her girlfriend dancing with people and not her, and fine, you can sympathize with that. "Okay. I'll be with Fezco outside, then. When you decide this party does suck, find us and we'll go, okay?"

Rue stares at you. She licks her lips, looking right into your eyes in search of something, and whatever it is, she must find it. "Okay. Okay, yeah. I'll look for you." She turns to Elliot, who's been leaning on the corridor wall in silence since you told him off. "Let's goooo Elli, bro."

Ugh. From the look on his face at her 'bro', this bro of hers wants something more than her company and her fellow addict nose to keep him from being lonely while he uses it.

Trying to convince yourself that is not your problem, you go back outside in search of Fezco.

Catching Rue walking her death row made you almost sober, or at least, your mind feels that way.

When you get outside, though, Fezco's not there.

The absence of his presence makes you wonder if you left for too long, or if he had something better to do. The next problem is that with no Fezco, you're back to square zero.

Liquor.

You're gonna need alcohol if Rue is off being a masochist and the only other person you knew at the party is gone.

The silver lining comes when after downing a glass of surprisingly good scotch, the music gets good. Losing yourself to the beat and the sea of bodies is easier than thinking. Easier than letting your mind wander, or focusing on the interactions you shared with him that night.

Throwing your head back and closing your eyes to feel the drums in the song instead of the emptiness inside you or the need for something more is one of the many coping mechanisms you found while living in New York.

It's also what keeps you busy until you feel someone trying to get your attention.

It's Elliott. He looks no better or good than when you left him and Rue a while ago, which means they stuck to your advice and found something other than lines to do.

He gestures to the outside and, catching his message, you realize with a sad pang in your chest that it's time to go.

"Where's Rue?" You ask.

"Talking to him." Elliott points to one of the empty corridors, and right in the end, you see them.

Rue and Fezco, talking to one another. Before you can stop yourself, you're taking steps in their direction, but you never get close enough to interrupt the conversation.

Eventually, she notices you standing there and waves a hand at you. She says something else to Fezco, then walks to you.

"Can we light one up before we go?" She asks you as soon as she's in front of you. Rue looks worse.

Fuck.

She did something without Elliot. That stupid, one-brain-celled, fake blond asshole.

"'Course, babes."

Rue nods with a happy smile that looks sad to you, then leaves.

Across the corridor, Fezco is looking at you. Staring, and you're pinned under his gaze until he walks to you, too.

"You weren't there," you tell him as soon as he's in earshot.

Fezco's eyes widen a little, like he's surprised you noticed. "Yeah. My bad, ma." He looks sad too, and fucking hell, is everyone in this city miserable? "My ex dropped by wanting to talk 'n I didn't wanna talk."

That makes you widen your eyes, but in sympathy.

"Ah—I'm the one who should say 'my bad', then," you shrug.

He smiles at you. "'s fine. I was an idiot—she's Rue's age and…" Fezco rubs both hands over his buzzcut, and you groan out loud at the implications of Fezco and his high-school-year-old ex-girlfriend. "Fuck. I gotta stop puttin' myself in trouble, man."

"If it was that easy, huh?" You ask with a bitter laugh.

Fezco looks down at you, laughing along. "Yeah. If only."

"I gotta go—I'm gonna drive Rue—" where? You have no idea where, but she needs to get out and she was the reason you're here. Not the pretty boy, you remind yourself. "Somewhere?"

"Sounds like you don't know either," Fezco tilts his head. "I can recommend a few places."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, really," Fezco smiles and stretches out his head. "Gimme yo phone."

You take your phone out of your pocket and he types something, slowly. Then after a few clicks, he looks up at you. "You mind if I got your number?"

Your heart does. "I was gonna ask for it, anyway." Bless the scotch and heavens guard your heart, because your sudden boldness pays off.

The smile on Fezco's face opens slowly, different than the other ones he gave you that night. It's like watching the animation of a pair of eyes suddenly becoming a wolf, and inside the house, there's nowhere to escape the blue lights.

The color on your cheeks must be noticeable now that he's this close.

Fezco only looks away from you to type away something else on your phone and when the ping of message arrives in his pocket, your stomach does a cartwheel. "There. Now I got yours, too."

The fact that you want something else, something more from him before leaving seems to hover in the air.

Fezco's fingers brush on yours when he hands your phone back, and you swallow thickly with your eyes on his hands.

They're big hands—the notion makes your brain a little dizzy, painted with images of that hand everywhere. Around your throat, holding onto your chin, on your body—fuck.

You look up, and he's still watching you. "Never thought I'd see you again, lil' ma." The hoarseness on his voice is making you a little delirious and—is that perfume? In the tiny and narrow corridor, with him standing only a foot away from you, you can smell Fezco now. "But I'm glad I did."

Fezco's cologne is a strong, wood scent underneath the smell of pot and frankly, you need to get out of here before it cogs your whole brain and you do something stupid, like kissing his pretty pink lips before you go.

"I'm glad, too." Your voice sounds distant, and Fezco chuckles.

"Take good care of Rue, yeah?" You can visibly see him swallow, and then he takes a step back, taking his good scent and his freckles away from your eye level. "I'll text ya some places you can take her."

That's a door he's opening for you, and you take it before you lose control.

"Thanks, Fez." You bite on your bottom lip, trying to hold in the desire to get at least a hug. "Send Ash a hi from me? I'm—it was really good seeing you. Thanks for making my night a lil' happy."

Fezco finally looks away now, chuckling to himself. He looks embarrassed, and the way he ducks his head laughing makes you feel even more desperate, if that makes any sense. "I ain't gonna let you go if you keep being this nice."

"What?! I'm saying bye!" You laugh.

"Yeah, lookin' all cute and shit." Fezco drags one hand over his buzzcut again, and takes one more deliberate step back. "You made my night happier, too. Now please go before Rue fucks off somewhere 'n I have to pretend to be sad that I gotchu for a few more hours."

Hghgn. You swallow thickly around that, trying in vain to convince yourself that Fezco isn't flirting.

It's harder to do that when he's standing only two feet away, looking like you're in a Red Hood and he might eat you alive if one gave him the chance.

For the first time in years, you feel… pretty.

And sexy.

Blinking at him from under your eyelashes, you send him a smile and a siren look that purposely tells him what your last words can't. "See you around, Fez."

He nods at you, sharp and losing his smile—he's staring with intent, and when he licks his lips, you know you have to go before it's your turn to be embarrassed that he makes you whimper without even touching you.

"See ya, angel."

Oh, fuck.

Rue owes you so many joints and, at the same time, you owe her so much more.

You can feel his eyes on your back as you walk outside, and it takes you pinning Rue under your vision and following her like one follows a saving light for you to not turn around and give him one last hand wave.

If you see Fez one more time this evening, you might get high on the way his eyes look at you alone.

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•PART TWO coming soon... •

#usernexusnyx #fezco fic #fezco fanfic #fezco fluff #fezco imagine #fezco x y/n #fezco x ofc #fezco x you #fezco x reader

[spider-man-199999]

Hey, how are you? could you write something with blackcat!reader? maybe they are in college and after a patrol peter manages to follow her and discovers that she lives in a frat next to his. Peter discovers her identity and is surprised that she went to school with him in midtown but doesn't remember him, just spiderman and the relationship they had before the spell.

(does that make sense? I don't know if it does, but whatever you want to do with it is completely fine✨️)

Oh boy, oh boy I love Blackcat x Spider-man as a couple. Me and Felicia are equally obsessed with Spider-man.

Thank you for the request! I really appreciate it and I hope I do well! University is kicking my ass right now.

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!blackcatReader; Post nwh

word count: 3 k

warnings: It's cringe on purpose; drinking

Peter hated the state his life was in. He knew things were better the way they are now, for his safety, for everyone's. But it didn't mean he hated it any less. All his closest friends were at MIT and didn't even remember him. Not as Peter Parker at least. So, he decided it would be best not to go there after all. The idea of trying to get close to them again was giving him a headache. He desperately wanted to do it but he had to stop himself because it was better off this way. That was what he believed, at least.

If people could remember who he was, they would have been very surprised that he ended up being a frat guy in college. He didn't expect to become one either. After all, he thought these things were lame, propaganda from dumb movies or dream-sellings from romance novels. But Peter Parker was a frat guy. There was something about brotherhood that gave him some sense of security and comfort now that a new leaf was turned. It reminded him of the time he spent with the Avengers, in a way. He liked not feeling alone. The months he spent at college made him feel normal to some extent. He actually enjoyed this period of confusion, he could finally relax for a bit and feel normal. Go to a few parties, do his homework. It was nice, but so goddamn boring.

His life seemed so fucked-up, so different. He hadn't been on patrol for months, the thought of Spider-man was just too overwhelming. Plus, he needed to recover from everything he went through both emotionally and physically. He wanted to put the mask on again but whenever he did, he got vivid flashbacks - almost losing MJ, May dying. It would all come back to him, cold sweat running down his back, tears in his eyes. He just couldn't handle being Spider-man. But when he saw Black Cat running around in the streets close to his campus one night, everything changed. 

All of the memories from patrols with the girl in a black suit hit him like a train. She never knew who was behind the mask. And somehow Peter felt like she saw who he really was anyway. The urge to put the costume on was strong now, plus he had added some new upgrades he needed to try out anyway. So, on the most ordinary wednesday night, Peter put on the spider suit again, and jumped out of the window of his bedroom to go on patrol.

He was swinging around the city and it felt like a walk in the park. It seemed like he had forgotten how freeing it could be. Despite all of the negative feelings linked to the red and black suit, he found comfort in it now. The memories were still there, in his mind, and the people he loved were there too. He owed that much to them, to keep their legacy alive, even if they're gone now. With time, he was sure he could heal. Time was all he needed.

Suddenly, his spider-sense tingled, making his head shoot to his left. He was swinging by some old brick buildings around his campus when Black Cat practically tackled him into a wall, wrapping both her arms and legs around his torso. He turned his back to take the hit for both of them, wrapping one arm around her waist for support. Sidey used the other hand to continue swinging both of them around the city.

"SPIDER!" she said, hugging him tightly. "Mi amor, I hate you, where have you been?"

"Looking for trouble, as usual." he said with a laugh. Peter actually enjoyed her warm embrace for once.

He never had anything against the girl, her excessive flirting and implications that she was in love with him could get a bit out of hand sometimes, but he found it charming. Plus, before he was dating someone else and he couldn't really pay her the attention she craved from him. He actually missed that more than he had previously realised.

"You still have a girlfriend?" She asked, her head rested on his collarbone for a while.

Peter landed both of them on a rooftop, letting her step on her own as her limbs untangled from his torso. She placed her hands on her hips, foot tapping on the ground while she waited for his answer.

"Actually, no. I don't."

Her eyes sparkled with his words, throwing herself at him again. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Oh, Spider! I'm so happy! And sorry, obviously, why did you two end it?"

Peter usually would reject the affection she offered, but now he needed it more than anything. She was the closest thing to a friend he had left. They finally let go and he still wasn't talking. She tought the break-up was probably still fresh.

"Okay, Spider. Patrols haven't been the same without you, I missed you." she told him, her hand resting against his cheek.

Oh how she wanted to kiss him, like usual. He used to jump and run whenever she touched him, in fear that it would somehow affect his relationship with MJ. But now he didn't. He let her touch his face, smiling softly behind the mask. Even if everything was fucked up, even if everything was different for him now, she just wasn't. She was the only thing that remained like a token from his past life. The Black Cat was the only thing he had left.

---

By the end of their patrol both of them felt really beat up. Fighting crime was not an easy job, especially when your opponents were skilled. No major super-villains were threatening New York right now, but there still were bad guys to fight.

Spider-man and Black Cat were sitting on the edge of a rooftop, swinging their legs as they took a moment to breathe. Cat had a few scratches here and there and Spider-man was probably bruised under the mask as well.

"Spider, this was so much better with you here!" She exclaimed.

The wind blew her hair gently to the side while she looked down on New York. Peter turned his head to look at her, her face showered in the sparkling city lights. He thought about how pretty she actually was, but he never had the chance to notice that before. Maybe it really was the comfort that she gave him that was making his heart beat faster while he stared at the scene. She looked like a Van Gogh painting - vibrant, breathtaking, gently touched by the warm light.

"Yeah." He replied, making her look at him in return.

"You were totally falling in love with me right now, weren't you?" she said with a giggle.

"What? No, no, no, no." he shook his hands in defence, denying her accusation.

She stood up, looking somewhere ahead of her.

"I would love to stay and let you fall deeper in love with me, but I have to run, early morning tomorrow." And with that she left.

Peter lay down on the rooftop for a little while, overthinking her words. Was he actually falling in love with her? Maybe... He didn't want to jump to conclusions, he didn't want to make her a rebound after MJ either. It was starting to mess with him, just as he found some serenity. It was like he couldn't have a single moment of peace in this costume. After a good 15 minutes, Peter decided it was time to swing back to the house, just like Black Cat, he had classes early in the morning.

He had almost reached his place when a familiar figure caught his attention. He stopped, sticking to a wall just to make sure. It was Black Cat, and she was on campus. His campus. Well this was getting a bit too interesting to pass up. He crawled and jumped around the buildings to follow her, stopping when she did. He climbed up a wall to a house next to where the cat stopped, peeking just enough to see clearly what was going on. The Black Cat took her mask off, placing it in a gym bag that was hidden next to the back door. His mouth flew open when he realized he finally knew who she was. Not only was she someone on campus, living a sorority right next to his frat house, but he also knew her personally. Peter hid behind the wall completely, trying to process the information. It was you, the girl that he went to high school with, the girl that took AP history with him. It took him a few seconds, but when he looked again, you were already gone. A room in the house light up soon after, and he started feeling guilty for what he did. He would have hated it if someone did this to him.

"Good going, Spyder-man!" he cussed at himself, finally going home for the night.

He tried not to make things awkward with you for the next few weeks, but oh gosh was he terrible at that. The two of you were never close, the fact that you came from the same school never really meant anything to the either of you. But now that Peter knew your secret identity, it meant everything to him. It felt like he had found a long lost friend in you. He tried to get closer, talk to you more whenever he saw you, even invite you to the latest frat party. If he knew one thing about Black Cat, she loved having fun. And what better occasion to have fun than an actual frat party, at a frat house.

Of course, you agreed. What was one night away from the crime scenes? You deserved that, plus, Spider-man got you covered, right? Nothing could really go wrong, you literally needed seconds to get into the suit and go if you had to. You did find Peter Parker's new attitude towards you a bit peculiar, but it was cute nonetheless. You were only really interested in Spider-man, but you loved attention no matter who was giving it. Outside of the costume, you still had this care-free, very self-assured personality but a little toned down. It wasn't always easy to be the one to fight the battles for yourself all of the time. And you had to do it, every single day. Maybe there was a reason why you liked Spider-man so much, you two felt like a team, like it wasn't just you alone against the world for a change.

----

The time of the party came quicker than you thought. Your "sisters" were already pulling you by the hand out of your room. In true Black Cat spirit, you just had to wear a tight black dress with a slit on the side. And a choker around your neck. It was only normal to make heads turn when you walked in the frat house. Your sorority wasn't one that liked partying all of the time, but when you did party, things just got crazy.

"Y/N!" you heard, turning your head to see an unfamiliar boy.

He shoved a cup in your hand.

"Peter is in the backyard, wanted me to take you to him when you got here."

"Yeah, cute, but that's not gonna happen." You winked at the boy and walked off to mingle somewhere else.

You actually really wanted to dance with your girls tonight. And you did just that, a full cup in your hand the whole time. At some point you couldn't really remember how much you drank, there were some shots involved. You were having so much fun, even dancing on top of a table. A hand grabbed your arm suddenly making you look, it was the guy from earlier tonight, you got off the table with a jump so you could talk. You were obviously annoyed by his interruption, crossing your arms in front of your chest. He scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Look, I'm so sorry to bother you, but it's been 2 hours and Peter was asking me about you-"

"I don't care." you interrupted him, turning around with the intention of leaving him there. He placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"Please, I've been lying to him for two hours, I'll be in so much trouble."

You looked at him over your shoulder, gently removing it with your hand.

"If Parker wants to see me so bad, he should come get me." You winked at him and left.

Dancing on top of tables didn't seem so fun now, and your head was feeling pretty light from all of the alcohol. You overheard some girls from your house mention a pool and you immediately walked over to them, placing your arms on the shoulders of each one of them, standing between them.

"Did I hear pool?" the three of you giggled after the question.

----

Your dress was wet, along with your hair and pretty much everything else on your body. Yes, the three of you really did jump in the pool, which caused a chain reaction of other people jumping in as well. Soon the party had drunk, wet people, running around everywhere. Cats rarely liked water and you were no exception. You didn't mind it as much as long as you weren't in the costume. So, after swimming for a little bit you got out, squeezing out some water from the hem of your dress when you felt something cover your shoulders. You turned around, your eyes meeting Peter's, who had placed a towel on you and smiled. You squinted your eyes at him, letting go of the dress and standing up straight to look at him.

"It's cold." he said

"Yeah, thanks?"

It was so sweet of him to be so considerate, it made you feel very weird things, but maybe it was the alcohol. Peter put his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously.

"So..." he started "How's it going?"

"Are you usually this awkward or...?"

''Yeah, kinda"

"So it's not my stunning beauty, just you?"

"No, well I mean, your beauty does make it a lot worse for me, but no."

You laughed, drying your hair off with the towel.

"If I didn't know any better, I would assume you were crushing on me." you said, giving him back his towel.

"No, what? What gave you that impression?"

"Doesn't matter, I'm in love with someone else."

"Wait, who?" he asked, trying to act confused.

You turned your back to him, trying to hide the blush you had on.

"Well, I don't really... know yet." you said, already taking off so you could hide from him.

-----

It was kind of embarrassing to admit that you were in love with someone you didn't really know. It's not like you didn't know Spider-man, you just didn't know who the person behind the mask was. But truthfully, you never felt a need to do that. You were content with the teammate you had, the person who was there to watch your back. You were in love with the person who would put himself in harm's way to save others, the person who always seemed to know what to say. He was so brave and dedicated to his mission, his heart was pure. Sure, you used to be curious about his identity in the beginning but with time it just stopped mattering. There was something bigger, something greater about your love for him because of this.

And you couldn't help but feel conflicted when you started feeling the same things towards Peter Parker. He definitely wasn't the first guy to express an interest in you, or be consistent with said interest but there was something about him that just made you feel warm inside. Maybe it was his nerdiness and how smart he was, or it was the way he would smile whenever he saw you. How he would try so hard to find something to talk about with you and how he would research any topic you would mention. He was so overly-sweet and protective that it brought out a soft side of you, one you didn't really know you had before that.

So, meeting Spider-man and Peter was becoming increasingly difficult for you. It got to the point where you would avoid Spider-man on patrol so you could spare yourself some emotional damage. It didn't take him long to figure you out though.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on finally?" Spider-man asked you one night after probably the worst patrol the two of you ever had. You were so distracted the whole time that the two of you took quite the beating. His costume was torn and so was yours, wounds and bruises everywhere.

"I really don't know." you said, pressing your back against a brick wall in the alleyway the two of you hid. You slid down the wall, sitting on the ground and hugging your knees.

Spider-man sat down next to you, pressing his head to the wall and looking up at the metal fire-escape that the two of you were sitting under.

"Something from your personal life?"

"Well, I'm not so sure."

"How can you not be sure?"

"You know I have this undying love for you, right."

He laughed, turning his head to look at you.

"I know."

"Well, I might have it for someone else too."

"Someone else?"

"Yeah, he's... well he's not as great as you are, not even close, but he has this nerdy charm about him."

You turned to him, cupping his cheek with your hands while you looked at the mask. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss where his lips were supposed to be.

"You're still my greatest, biggest love, Spider."

He looked at you for a while, his hand hesitantly pulling his mask up enough to uncover his lips before he pulled you in for a real kiss. It was a sweet, warm kiss, your lips moving together while your hands were holding onto each other. It was a kiss that the two of you had anticipated to share for so long, dreaming and imagining how it would go. And it went even better.

#fanfiction #peter parker x reader #marvel imagine #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter perker imagine #marvel fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman #blackcat marvel #blackcat x spiderman #blackcat reader #spiderman x y/n #mcu peter parker x reader #mcu x you #mcu spiderman #mcu peter parker #mcu imagine #mcu spiderman x reader #tom holland x reader #spiderman requests #open requests

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Perfect Pretender." Alex Browning X Todd Waggner X AFAB! Reader.

Okay! So I posted this giftset a while ago and I have always held this idea and headcanon that this convo could be read as Tod’s dad catching him and Alex hooking up and then keeping them apart because he is a homophobe, the pair try to make plans when things calm down again. Thinking more about this I thought, wait. Wait. Them, but also, why not someone else? The idea of a polyam ship was born, the reader in this is Tod’s beard/cover to get his dad off his back. So! Fake dating and fluff, I don’t have a poly ship name for em yet so let’s go!

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Rating. SFW. Length. 2.9K. Alex Browning X Todd Waggner X AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Polyamory. Established Relationship. Homophobia. Fake Dating. Reader Is So Sweet And Supportive. Kissing. Pining. Longing. The Birth Of A New Triad. FLUFF.

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Tod and Alex became friends in the third grade. They were those kinda of friends that were kind of insufferably inseparable for a long time. You would see one without the other on the rare occasion and it would create a visceral reaction of just feeling wrong, causing whomever to jokingly ask, “Where’s your other half?” 

So when the shift happened between them, from friends to more than that, it just made way too much sense but still, the times are the times and the town is small and they are sure that it wouldn’t be a good look to be caught. So they had to keep it a secret, it wouldn’t always have to be, but for now it did, it was hard, brought its own challenges, especially when Tod’s dad started to get suspicious of how much time they spent together while he was seemingly not dating anyone. 

“I’m just focusing on my studies.” Was Tod’s excuse and his dad would fire back with, “Your grades aren’t good enough for me to buy that.”

Tod was never a great liar. “Besides that, you’re young, school isn’t everything, go on a few dates, it won’t kill you.” 

And thus a new problem was created that needed to be solved, quickly. If Tod’s dad keeps sniffing around there is a good chance that he might discover what has really been going on and neither Tod, nor Alex, wanted to deal with that fallout or that mess. 

You knew the pair of them and had for a while, not as long as they had known each other, obviously, but still a long while. You found out their little secret without meaning to, stumbled upon them when they hadn’t been expecting it, finding them in a rather compromising position, they of course freaked out, begged you not to tell and you told them that you would never dream of it. Their nerves weren’t so easily forgotten and you understood, you weren’t hurt by it, you know that they trusted you but still if this got out it could be life ending, so, you made sure to be extra considerate, especially since you totally got their position. You admitted that you were very much not straight yourself, and explained your attraction to multiple genders. 

The shock painted their faces and Tod spoke up first. “You…You didn’t have to tell us that.” 

You shrugged with a relaxed expression, “I know I didn’t. But I wanted to, honestly I had been wanting to for a while and this seemed like a twofer, get that info out and put you both at ease.”

The duo shared a look and Alex said, “I think you are way too cool to be hanging out with us.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “As if. I’m still totally lame, I just like dick and pussy.” 

“See even the way you say it, so unbothered! How is that not cool?” Tod asked and you rolled your eyes, “I don’t really give a fuck about what’s cool.”

“And that right there is what cool is.” Alex asserted and you laughed with a raise of your hands. “Okay, so I’m cool, sue me.” 

Later on Tod shared his predicament with his father, how he was suspicious and on his back about not dating and after expressing that you were sorry his dad was such an invasive dick and listening to him some more, the talk turned to other things. That night while in bed, thinking over Tod and Alex’s situation the idea struck you like lightning and the next day you told them all about it.

“Date me.” You say easily as you sit down across from them at the coffee shop you all met up at before class. Alex almost choked on his three cream and two sugar coffee and Tod asked with a very confused expression, brows so high they almost disappeared into his hair, “What?” 

“I said, date me.” You say again, as if they were stupid for not grasping what you were driving at immediately. “I say again, what?” Tod asked and you expound. “If you date me, then your dad will get off your back!”

“But I’m with-” Tod looked around, not wanting to even whisper it out loud in public, once convinced no one was actively listening, his eyes shifted over to Alex with a hum that pitched up and down, as if to make the sound of Alex’s name without actually saying it. 

“I know that! So we would just pretend to date, for like appearances! Then no one would ever suspect anything is off, I can be your cover, and then you dad won’t even think twice about any time you spend with Alex.” You say confidently. 

The two are stunned. They had never thought of this but it would make everything easier. A nervous look is passed between them. “And you’d be okay with that?” 

“Of course I would be or I wouldn’t offer! We hang out all the time already, it makes too much sense and I’d be more than happy to help keep your old man off your case.” 

“Can we have some time to talk it over?” Alex asked and you told them, “Of course, no rush and if you decide not to, we can come up with another plan, alright?”

“Okay yeah this definitely decides it, you are way too fucking cool for us.” Tod sighed and Alex got up, “I’m buying your coffee, come up and order.”

You knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer so you got up and let him treat you to your favourite drink and a baked good. 

It took three days for them to get back to you but they do and they tell you that they super appreciated it and wanted to go through with it. “Amazing! This is gonna make your life so much easier, I’m so happy you are down to let me help you out.” 

You talked it through and it was decided, the first part of it was easy enough, Tod getting ready to go out and upon leaving his dad asked where he was going and with a shy kind of grin Tod said, “A date.”

“Really?” His dad seemed impressed and Tod said, “Yeah really, I took your advice to heart, no reason not to, right? I should be out having fun.” 

His dad was pleased and none the wiser. Tod was able to go out to Alex’s place and fully relax, the next day he thanked you but soon, the claims of dates weren’t enough. 

His dad wanted to meet you, Tod had been giving him small amounts of info but now that led to him needing to take this further. So he brought you by for dinner and introduced you to his family. You played the part of girlfriend perfectly, his parents seemed totally taken with you, his brother liked you and Tod was especially grateful. After dinner was done he was taking you home, “You are too good!”

“C’mon, are you really that shocked? You saw me in the spring play.” You teased and he said, “Yeah I did but this was on another level, you were a revelation, I am pretty sure my dad is like in love with you, and my mom can be kinda stand off-ish but you won em over so quick.” 

“I’m just that good.” You sigh with a smile and Tod said, “I mean it, I cannot thank you enough.” 

“Least I can do for one of my best friends.” You tell him and you reach out, take his hand he lets you, it is a moment of casual friendly affection but the action of it makes Tod’s heart beat a hair harder in a way he hadn’t anticipated but he pushed it down, writing it off as nothing. 

Now that the folks had met you, the illusion had to be upped, you had to come by more and keep up the act and you did so easily. A lot of the time Alex was there too, you providing the aforementioned cover, allowing them to have the closeness they craved without the headache. 

As this arrangement drags on however, there are small moments of escalation out of necessity. Unintentional but they are there all the same. Once Tod’s dad is watching you and him say good-bye, so, naturally, you have to play the part and you kiss Tod, other times his dad comes in while you are watching tv and it’d be weird for you to not have his arm around your shoulder, and other little things like this keep happening. The times of easy physical affection and casual intimacy continue, almost in anticipation of an audience, a precaution, a “just in case” but this makes you all realise that, fuck, this feels right?

There isn’t weirdness or jealousy, the dates being the three of you feels natural and correct. You started doing what you did with Tod but with Alex too, it started as a big joke, Alex acted like he was upset and offended one afternoon after you kissed Tod good-bye out of habit. Your response? You put your hands on either side of Alex’s face and dragged him in and kissed him to shut him up. It worked and you skipped off to head home and then it never kind of stopped, just everything you did with Tod, you did with Alex too, like you were expanding and extending the joke but also wanted him to feel included. 

A distinct fact you were completely oblivious to, was that Alex and Tod were not completely gay or that all this closeness, extra time spent together, and fake dating had given them both a pants busting crush on you. They wondered what this meant, how to navigate this, if there was anything to be done? 

Tod was always better about saying stuff straight and not being afraid to broach difficult topics with a shocking amount of candour. He initiates the conversation, “So what are we going to do about her?”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked with a sideways glance to his boyfriend, “I mean the fact that we are both clearly falling for her.” 

“Falling for-?” Alex slammed his magazine closed, but by virtue of it being a magazine, slamming it isn’t really effective in the way slamming a book is, it is comical. Tod stiffles his laugh upon seeing the harsh expression Alex takes on, moving quickly, he is sitting side saddle on the couch, one hand on the back of it, the other on his own knee he insists, “Why do you think I, you, uhm, fuck, we are falling for her?”

“Because we are? Like c’mon man I’m not fucking stupid here.” Tod says around a breathless laugh with a shake of his head, Alex jumps to defend himself, “I didn’t say you were!”

“You didn’t say, but you implied plenty.” Tod fires back and before Alex can do much more than pout he says, "I see it Alex. I know you better than anybody and I pay attention. I see it in how you look at her, how you joke around with her, touch her in less and less casual ways. You fuckin' light up when she does that 'joke' and kisses you good-bye like you are her pretend boyfriend too. And I can tell you something else too."

"What's that?" Alex asked, his body language was tense, nervous, extremely on edge. 

“I want that too. You aren’t alone. I have been thinking it too and I think I’ve been thinkin’ it even longer than you.” Tod admits and Alex asks, “Seriously?”

“Yes! I don’t think I want her to just be my pretend girlfriend. I think…I think I want her to be my actual girlfriend and I think you want that too.” Tod said firmly and Alex asked, “But what about us?”

“What about us? Why does ‘us’ have to stop? Why can't it be us and her all like-” His fingers tangle together in front of his stomach as he finishes his thought, eyes dropping down, “-together?” 

The silence hangs heavy and Alex breaks it. “That’s an…That’s an option?”

“Why can’t it be?” Tod said with a shrug, Alex looks at him. Tod looks back, hand reaches out and takes his. 

“What if she doesn’t want us?” Alex asks quietly and his best friend responds, “You think she is that good an actor?”

Alex quietly repeats that joke you like to tell, “Well you saw her in the spring play-” The half smile on his face is very endearing, Tod returns it with a fond roll of his eyes, “Yeah she’s a great actor but not that great. We can’t BOTH be imagining what is going on here man, no way. There is something here and I think it is worth talkin’ to her about.”

“So we know?” Alex offered up and Tod nodded, “Yeah, exactly, no wondering, then we will know.” 

“And you aren’t jealous?” Tod responds quickly, “Nope. Are you?”

“God no. Seeing you with her ‘dating’ makes me…Happy. Seeing how you are with her makes me happy.” 

“Same here.” Tod confirmed. 

Alex sighed heavily, throwing his hands up, “Okay!”

“You mean it?” Came the excited reply and the blonde admits, “Yeah, what do we have to lose?” 

They didn’t do it right away. They took some time and thought about if this is what they really wanted. While agreed upon, they hadn’t picked a time they were going to really talk to you about it seriously. It just kind of happens. One afternoon, at Alex’s for once, away from the prying eyes of Tod’s dad, you were all hanging out. You were supposed to be doing some studying, finals were coming up, but instead you said you couldn’t study without a snack so you convinced them to bake cookies before you all hit the books. 

The radio was on, you were creaming together butter and sugar, Tod was holding the bowl as you mixed, something that was unnecessary but it gave him the excuse to be closer to you as you both badly sang along to the music while Alex watched. 

He didn’t want to keep pretending. One song finished, some ad came on and he spoke up, cleared his throat, said your name and grabbed your attention. You looked over to him and with that big smile you asked, “Yeah?”

“We…We have something we were thinking about talking to you about.” Alex met Tod’s gaze. Tod was behind you and his eyes went wide, immediately picking up what he were planning. “Oh sure, shoot.”

Alex nods nervously and continues, “We’ve really loved all the time we have been spending together.”

You jumped in, saying happily as you agreed, “Me too! Who knew being a beard and fake dating could be so fucking fun?” 

They both shared another look and Tod cut in after a forced cough, “About that…While it’s been great. But what if the dating we are doing isn’t quite so…Fake?”

You stopped mixing, you turned and looked up at Tod and then to Alex, “What are you saying?” 

Tod sighs, hand rubbing over the back of his neck, “We want to date you for real.”

Alex chimes in, “Both of us.”

To say you are stunned is an understatement. You stutter out, “But…What…What about you?” 

“What about us?” Alex asked and you clarified, “What about your relationship?”

Alex says carefully and slowly, “Yeah about that, we would wanna stay together but just be together with you. Just…All of us dating-” 

Tod finishes the thought, “-Together.” 

You drop the whisk and say, “Holy shit thank fucking God.”

“What?” The pair ask in unison and you spill your guts, “I have been falling for you both so fucking hard for a while! I have been trying to keep it on the down low because you are both together and I thought you were both totally gay and I knew you were relying on me to be your cover and just, I cannot believe that you’ve both been wanting me too-”

Alex cuts in, stepping closer, “Wait, wait, shit, you have been pining after us too?”

“Yes! That is exactly what I am saying!” You exclaimed and Tod laughs, “How fucking clueless are we?” 

“Sooo…Are we seriously going to try this?” You asked and Alex said with a point, “I mean..We’ve already been dating technically, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, Alex is right.” You suppose he was. Just placing this label on it and being open and honest with your feelings would be the only real change. You were already outwardly and publicly dating Tod. You would have to hide the fact you were dating Alex but Tod and him were already having to hide that themselves. This was fine, more than worth it, once outta this small town you are sure you will all be able to be open and live how you want more publicly. Perhaps for now this would be okay, some secrets are fun to keep. 

“What is our first for real date going to be?” You asked and Alex said, “Can’t this be it?”

“Oh wow, real romantic. A study date? C’mon man, put some effort in.” Tod jokes and Alex scoffs, “You plan a date then!” 

As they playfully argue and you resume work on the cookie dough you think that this is all going to work out just fine.

#Final destination x reader #Alex Browning X reader #Todd Waggner X reader #Alex Browning X Todd Waggner X Redaer #BHF writing #WELP #HERE #ENJOY

[onyourowndaisymae]

obey me brothers as taylor swift fans pt. 1

what's their favorite album? their favorite songs? are they a vocal fan or is taylor a guilty pleasure of theirs?

characters included: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

i have. so many thoughts on this. i had to expel this from my brain before it drove me nuts. part 2 will include the younger brothers. i will probably make a part 3 with the dateables once i think on it a little longer. my credentials: i've been a swiftie since the debut/fearless era, so i know my shit. obey me swifties rise up

content warning: very brief discussions of death

Lucifer: The Evermore Fan

let it be known that this is not his fault.

lucifer really only listens to his beloved classical vinyl records. he's not one to keep up with musicians, especially not musicians from the human world.

he spent one afternoon retrieving asmodeus from a coffee shop in town. it was a quaint little establishment known for incorporating touches from both the human and celestial realms into its theming. the cozy, bookish sitting area wasn't exactly where he expected his flamboyant younger brother to be, but to each their own.

an unfamiliar song from the human world played over the speakers of the coffee house. a low, pleasant female voice drifted through the murmurs of the coffee shop. lucifer didn't stick around for very long-- he only a small snippet of the music that day. then why was he still thinking about it more than a week later?

he couldn't get that damn song. out. of. his. head.

he's tapping his pen against his desk to the rhythm. the snippet of the lyrics he caught is playing on repeat while he does the laundry. it's driving him absolutely fucking nuts.

through a few nonchalant questions and some digging in his free time, he finally got the name of the song and the artist (note: it was willow). with a bit more finagling, he finally got his hands on a vinyl for the deluxe version of evermore.

he finds an evening where all of his brothers are out of the house, pours himself a glass of demonus, and puts the vinyl on. at the very least, even if he hates it, he can at least purge the song from his head that'd been lingering for the past few weeks.

... it's a much better record than he expected.

something about the combination of the earthy instrumentals and the artist's heavenly alto really soothes the soul.

the evermore vinyl becomes one of his favorites-- one that he keeps stashed at the back of a cabinet, of course. he had no interest in hearing any questions his brothers might have if they happened to find it in his office.

the complexities of the melodies and the poetic lyrics speak to him. he has a particular fondness for marjorie-- a song about losing a loved one and carrying them with you as you continue on in life. i don't feel the need to spell out why he likes this one in particular.

evermore is an album lucifer never thought he'd find, nor did he believe he'd enjoy. but now it's become a good record to turn to when he's alone and has a free night to himself. he might not know much about the artist (she is a human world musician, after all, and he's much too busy to keep up with human culture), but he holds such fondness for this soothing autumn-y record.

favorite songs: champagne problems, marjorie, evermore (feat. bon iver)

Mammon: The Reputation Fan

mammon, like his brother asmo, prides himself on keeping in touch with all the latest trends that pass through the devildom. after the exchange program began, a renewed interest in human pop culture took roots in RAD.

very few pieces actually stuck, but mammon took it upon himself to get cozy with all that lame human stuff. he has a lame human back at home, y'know? what kind of friend would he be if he didn't at least know a little about what's popular up above? so he spends a free afternoon digging through the newspaper's recent post on devilgram about what humans supposedly like.

... taylor swift, huh? well, mammon isn't going to deny that she's hot. especially in that sparkly black leotard on stage... what, is that like, a tour or something? is she popular enough to tour? this is... the reputation tour. huh. seems interesting enough.

what started as interest through thirst quickly became interest in earnest as he watched some of the tour performances. he's like a crow, drawn in by flashy lights and sparkles. this little endeavor, originally meant to take no more than an hour or two, ate up the rest of his night.

suddenly it's 2am on a thursday night-- he's supposed to be asleep, yet here he is, deeply entrenched in the reputation lore. what a jerk that kanye guy is, interrupting her on stage like that! then to lie about her on social media with that fake phone call-- oohh! he's pissed! mammon ends up more mad about the taylor drama than taylor herself. it's been years. people have moved on (another day, another drama, drama). not him, though (all he thinks about is karma).

we all know that mammon, despite all appearances, is a massive simp. so it makes sense that he would really like an album full of love songs. reputation is an album about falling in love at your lowest, about someone finding you broken and loving you through it all. he's a sucker for that sort of messaging.

this obsession-- stanship, fan behavior, whatever you'd like to call it-- is, of course, private. he's a cool, slick casanova. unfortunately for taylor, she doesn't quite mesh with that image. no worries, though. their connection is strong, even if it is kept just between them. (she's his ruri-chan)

reputation holds a special place in his heart because it's the moment when taylor finally finds her one true love (which he found through his intensive research) and accepts being the fear and happiness that comes along with it-- what? no! he's not crying! there's just... dust in his eye! yeah! dust in his eye, and new year's day just happens to be playing, coincidentally, totally unrelated--

so his interest might have started out surface-level. he might have been drawn in by flashing lights and glitter (plus the appeal of understand the human's culture better than his brothers), but by the end of it all, mammon is a certified swiftie. not that he'd ever admit it, though.

favorite songs: don't blame me, king of my heart, call it what you want

Leviathan: The Fearless Fan

... hear me out. i'm well aware this is sort of an odd choice, but i stand by it.

leviathan doesn't really... date. like at all. he's very content fixating on his 2D waifus and distancing himself from normie stuff. and that's all fine and good. but those times when he lifts his head up from his game to see his brothers getting close with others, while he locks himself in his room and shuts everyone out? it stings a little.

you remember that old rudolph movie, the one with the little blonde elf dentist? specifically, his line "you can't fire me, i quit!" in one of the songs? i promise i have a point here

i feel like levi has that sort of complex about love. i think there's a hopeless romantic somewhere deep in there, buried under all the layers of deflection he uses to keep everyone out.

all of this to say: he loves old taylor swift music.

taylor's early works revolve around the highs and lows of young love, woven together in fantastical stories that cast a rose-colored light. levi lives vicariously through this music.

it actually fits him well because he can experience the complex emotions of love packed into a three minute song, all from the comfort of his room and without fear of rejection!

that being said: if anyone were to catch him jamming out to taylor swift in his bedroom, he'd end it all right then and there.

he's very careful to hide this interest from his brothers. anime? video games? sure, they can understand that. but girly, lovey-dovey taylor swift? they'd never let him hear the end of it!

make no mistake, though-- he is a diehard fan. he watches her live performances on deviltube. he knows all her biggest hits. he'd have merch if any of it was subtle.

fearless is his favorite album because it throws itself into being hopelessly, passionately, clumsily in love. he admires how unashamed it is to be so, y'know... normie. cringe, in his eyes. vulnerability? yikes!

he likes the love songs best. sure, there are plenty of good breakup songs on fearless, but he's here to imagine himself lost in young love, not getting dumped. he likes the idea of romantic tension, of dancing in the rain, of friends finally becoming lovers after secretly pining for one another for ages-- especially that last one. he hopes one day he might get caught in a friends-to-lovers plot and fall in love with someone he knows like the back of his hand.

levi knows he is a simple hopeless romantic. but when he plugs his headphones in and turns on taylor's music, he feels, just for a moment, like maybe the pursuit of romance isn't so hopeless after all.

favorite songs: fearless, love story, you belong with me

[psst... yeah, you. did you want a link to the spotify playlist? here it is. it already has the songs for part 2 on there, so beware of spoilers for the next post!]

#obey me (taylor's version) #this took for fucking ever #but i think we're once again approaching magnum opus territory #i have so many thoughts #and feelings #i could go on all day #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #otome #taylor swift #obey me swifties hit my fuckin line

[jasntodds]

Caving In [11]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 12,364

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst :), blood, injuries, canon violence, canon injuries, violence, lots of self doubt from the reader and Jason, a panic attack, heights, Jason, reader, and gar blaming themselves a lot, “go through me” trope

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: I’ll tell y’all who the endgame is next chapter for reasons lol it’ll be in an author’s note at the end by my taglist!! Also, I did post some of this as a two-shot lol I changed quite a bit of it when I posted it so it’s different but some of it is the same lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Jason comes to, his arms hung and tied above his head. His arms are supporting his weight, his feet dangling a foot from the floor. His head is pounding, spinning a little as his head nods. The weight of his eyelids feels like cinderblocks. Everything comes back to him like a leak in a boat, slowly but fluidly. The panic starts to settle in again as the flash of you with the sword to your face, Deathstroke on the other end, hits him.

He looks around, seeing you tied to a second beam about ten feet away from him. You’re dangling further from the ground than he is, your arms tied above your head and your head is hung. From where Jason is hanging, he can’t make out if you’re breathing or not and the every idea that you might not be, makes his head spin and his stomach nauseous.

“Y/n?” Jason calls but he doesn’t get a response. “Y/n!” Jason raises his voice a little louder, trying to look around for any sign of Deathstroke or Dr. Light but he doesn’t see either of them. “Y/n!” Jason calls again, this time his voice breaking slightly.

You aren’t answering and he fights the rope holding him up, trying to free himself. He uses all of his strength to lift himself up, trying to get enough momentum to loosen the rope but it doesn’t work. He does this a few times before he hears someone walk in from behind him.

Jason can see hints of light from over his shoulder and the sound of energy being used fills the, what seems to be, basement. The walking sounded off to Jason and now the use of energy does, too. It sounds muffled and at first, he thought it was because he was still just coming to but now he’s thinking he took some real damage. But he pushes that thought away and Jason gets an idea. Dr. Light didn’t like Jason making fun of him so all he has to do is keep talking. Get Dr. Light to come over to him. Jason can free himself and if he takes out Dr. Light right now, it’ll be one less psycho to deal with. So, he looks at you once more and shakes his head, pushing the thought of you being dead as far away from his mind as possible so he can be annoying.

“Ah, Dr. Light.” Jason calls out before gaining the energy to give up a chortle. “Did you come up with that shit by yourself or did your parents saddle you with that bullshit? I mean, come on, what a lame fucking name.”

“Shut it!” Dr. Light yells, his voice already annoyed. Jason knows this guy stands no chance against him. He could do this for hours.

“What? Is my talking annoying you, dickweed?” Jason chortles once more. “Cause that’s the thing,” Jason’s voice is breathy. “I can do it all day.” Jason states as he hears Dr. Light moving towards him and he knows he’s just won. “All night and if you’re nice, twice on a Sunday.” Jason finishes just as Dr. Light stands in front of him.

“I said, shut the fuck u--” Dr. Light starts but he’s cut off as Jason kicks him in the lower abdomen.

Dr. Light curls over in pain and Jason doesn’t let up. He kicks him a few more times, once in the chest and then in the face. The kick to the face gets Dr. Light to turn on his knees, his back towards Jason now. Jason wraps his leg around Dr. Light’s neck and squeezes as hard as he can. It’s taking every bit of energy Jason has to hold himself to do this but he knows he has to if he wants to get him and you out of here. So, he holds on and fights through the pain until he feels Dr. Light go limp.

“Night, night, asshole.” Jason states with a slight relief in his voice.

He takes no time in dislocating his thumbs to free himself. It’s not always ideal, it’s not exactly comfortable to do but it’s his only option. He pops the digits out of place and is able to free himself. He drops to the ground and pops the thumbs back into place before running over to you.

Jason cups your face, the panic pooling back in his stomach. “Y/n? Come on, you gotta wake the fuck up.” Jason mutters, shaking your head slightly. Jason peaks behind you, not seeing any sign of Deathstroke. “Please…” Jason shakes your head again, his brows furrowed and hands shaking. He doesn’t even realize he’s shaking. He just wants you to wake up. “Y/n.” Jason’s voice breaks as the burning behind his eyes becomes almost unbearable. “Wake up. His teeth grit between words.

You groan and Jason lets out the biggest breath. Your eyes peek up slowly, your eyelids heavy as if you’ve only been sleeping for an hour after pulling an all-nighter. Your arms feel heavy and weak above your head, almost completely numb. Your head is pounding and there’s a ringing in your ears.  And your eyes finally open fully, seeing Jason.

“Jay?” Your voice is raw as you say his name.

“You okay?” He asks, his eyes rapidly moving across your face, his hands not moving from your face.

There’s blood coming from his right ear and you wonder why he’s asking you if you’re okay. He’s very clearly injured. But, you are the one still tied up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m okay.” You nod, pulling at the restraints.

You’ve never seen Jason anything but confident and cocky and angry. A part of you wondered if he could even feel anxiety because he never showed it, not until now. You can feel his hands shaking against your face and his lip is trembling just a little bit. How is he ever going to recover from this?

Jason nods with you. “I’m gonna cut you down.” He finally moves his hands and lifts your hoodie only to see they, of course, took your knives. Your heart sinks and Jason sees the look of defeat cross your face. “No, it’s fine.” Jason brushes it off, pressing the R on his chest, and releasing one of the blades. “Got it covered.” Jason smirks at you and it makes you feel a little better about this.

You’ve been captured and it’s devastating. You swore it would never happen again and it did. How did you even let this happen? There were two of you and your one job should have been keeping a lookout. You both knew Deathstroke was out there because of Rose and yet, you were focused on Jason beating a fucking lightbulb. The throbbing kicked it because it always fucking does but you didn’t move fast enough. You’re not fucking good enough even with powers to save you and Jason. You can’t even free yourself, Jason is the one cutting you down and grabbing you to make sure you can walk.

“Can you walk?” Jason asks, his voice isn’t flat but it’s like he’s trying to hold it together.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You nod at him and Jason grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly as he leads you both to the stairs.

But, when you get there, Deathstroke meets you right at the top holding out a sword an inch from Jason’s face. Jason gulps and you want to scream out of pure frustration. Jason holds his arm out in front of you, not even thinking about it.

“Leaving so soon.” Deathstroke taunts.

Deathstroke takes a step forward making Jason step back, protecting you with his arm. The two of you back off the stairs carefully, Deathstroke not moving the sword. There are two of you and two against one is better odds. But, this is Deathstroke. He gave all of the Titans a run for their money and killed one of them. How are you and Jason supposed to escape this guy? You and Jason are confident, absolutely, but you are not stupid.

Dr. Light walks over, finally coming to. He is pissed. He walks right over to Jason, Jason pushing you back a bit more and more behind him, blocking you with his entire body. Dr. Light takes a swing at Jason, getting him in the face and that’s the straw that breaks you. Your hands glow more than they ever have before, your hands feeling like they’re on fire. Jason tries to fight back but Dr. Light has him by the collar again and that’s it.

“Leave him the fuck alone, you environmental hazardous fuck!” You yell moving from behind Jason, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted with your hands right in front of you. The green illuminates Dr. Light and his eyes widen. He knew you had powers from the tunnel but it didn’t look to be that serious. He pauses and Jason is able to free himself. “Touch him and I’ll turn into a puddle.” You move in front of Jason this time.

“Try it, kid. See how far that gets you.” Dr. Light taunts and you know it’s a trap. But, you can’t see how.

If Deathstroke were going to kill either of you, he would have done it. He’s waiting for something. It’s not you or Jason fighting back, though, he would have killed Jason already. But, he’s not and he’s just standing there as if watching to see what happens. Dr. Light isn’t who either of you have to fear. So, you shoot acid at him anyway, intentionally missing most of him. The acid touches a part of his forearm and he lets out a scream of agony, the acid melting some of his skin. Dr. Light charges you but you already had your arm out towards Jason and you move yourselves just as Dr. Light tries to grab you.

“Too slow.” You taunt and Jason can’t help but crack a smile from behind you.

“What? A little acid too much for ya, huh?” Jason taunts back, yours and Jason’s attention focused on Dr. Light but your attention becomes split between Dr. Light and Deathstroke as Deathstroke walks behind you. Your head is throbbing, following the direction of Deathstroke until it falls short. Nothing. And then you know.

“Don’t fucking touch him.” You spin around, facing Deathstroke as he’s pulling up his sword standing right behind Jason.

Jason pauses, unsure if he should move and instead, he looks to you. How the fuck did you know that? The combat clairvoyance only works for you so how would you know he was going after Jason? You glare at him, your jaw squared as your hands are pointed at him but Deathstroke isn’t scared of you or threatened. While he finds this interaction at least interesting, he isn’t bothered. He doesn’t care. He pulls his sword up and holds it against Jason’s back. Jason arches his back as he feels the blade touch him, but not penetrate.

“You will stop or I’ll kill him.” Deathstroke says, keeping his voice flat and unbothered.

You look to Jason and you knew this wouldn’t go well. You knew you didn’t stand a chance against him but you both tried. You lower your hands and Dr. Light grabs you. You don’t fight him and Jason hangs his head, the guilt seeping into his blood. But, neither of you have much time to even think about it before Deathstroke knocks Jason out and Dr. Light takes a few good swings at you before you’re knocked out again.

Gar rushes back to the tower and goes straight to Rachel’s room. He knows he needs to tell Dick but Dick is busy with other Titans and he’s freaking out. He knows Dick is gonna be pissed and he just needs to tell someone that isn’t Dick right now. Rachel will know how to help, if she can. Rachel is logical like Gar. She’ll help. But, when Gar enters her room, she’s asleep and this thick, gelatin like smoke is surrounding her just like in the training room when she attacked Jason. Gar sticks his hands out, trying to see if he can stop it or wake up Rachel. But, it attacks him instead, clawing right as his wrist and impaling him. Gar yells, jumping back and waking up Rachel.

“What? I’m up.” Rachel shoots up, looking at Gar who’s visibly scared and in pain. “Gar? What happened?” She asks as Gar stands back, holding his wrist. “Shit.” Rachel sighs, quickly getting up from the bed to check on him. “I’m so sorry.” Rachel’s words are rushed as she tries to see the damage to Gar’s wrist. “Please, don’t tell Dick.” Rachel begs.

“Y/n and Jason…” Gar pauses, the words bitter and sour in his throat. “They’re gone.” He chokes out.

“What?” Rachel searches his face, confused. You all were in the tower when she fell asleep, how are you both…gone?

“What happened to Y/n and Jason?” Dick’s voice asks from the door, overhearing Gar. He doesn’t even look mad, he just looks scared.

Gar lets out a shameful sigh, looking to ground. “Dr. Light has them.” Gar says quietly, barely looking at Dick.

“What?” Now Dick is mad. “What do you mean, Gar?” Dick almost demands the answer but Gar is visibly upset and his head is hung. “Okay, come with me, now.” Dick’s jaw clenches and Gar follows him to the comms lab. The walk there is silent and he hates being in trouble. “Explain, now.” Dick says as he sits at the computer, pulling up Jason’s tracking information to try and locate him.

Gar starts pacing behind Dick. “We…we figured out that Dr. Light was in the train tunnels.” Gar keeps his hands in his pockets as he walks. “Jason wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t a reject. And y/n…well, Jason went with her to fight Jerry so she felt she had to go with Jason. I think she wanted to prove to you that she was useful.” Gar explains, his voice unwavering in shame and guilt. “We were gonna come right back. And then Jason wanted to split up.” Gar stops pacing, standing behind Dick. “Y/n said she would go with him to make sure he was safe and he didn’t do anything stupid because we both have powers and Jason doesn’t. And then…I-I heard them scream.” Gar’s voice cracks, hearing the two of you echo in his head. “And I ran but they were already gone.”

“Why did you go out there in the first place?” Dick says through gritted teeth, nearly cutting Gar off. He is fuming. “On your own, with no weapons, no backup?”

Dick fully expects this from Jason and you. It's part of why Jason was even sent to Dick. He's too reckless, doesn't put any thought into anything, he's a little violent. Bruce hoped some time with Dick would help but clearly, nothing is getting through to him. As for you, you did already go off on your own, Jason in tow to do what you were told not to do. Jason bringing up this idea, of course, you would go with him. The two of you together doesn't seem like it's the best for anyone. Now, Dick has to rescue the both of you while Deathstroke is out there. It was stupid and you both should known better and Gar should have known better and expected this to happen.

Gar feels bad enough and Dick is making him feel worse. It’s kind of his fault. He should have just called Dick. He should have known with the two of you. Gar knows you and Jason better than anyone else in the tower. He gets you and you both tell him things. And he sees how you both are. You are the same side of the same coin. You’re reckless and eager to prove yourselves. Jason just has so much to prove and you’re new. You think a little more about the consequences of everything and maybe that’s why Gar didn’t think this would end poorly because you’re supposed to be the responsible one out of you and Jason. But, Gar is supposed to be the responsible one of all of three of you and he’s just let you both down.

“I’m sorry.” Gar apologizes, the guilt still slithered in his words.

“I just need details.” Dick says. “Specifics. Just write down everything you remember.” Dick says as he hands Gar a notepad. “I’m searching for Jason’s tracker right now.” Dick has a suspicion there’s more going on because how could Dr. Light have captured the both of you? Reckless sure, but there’s not a doubt in Dick’s mind that the two of you wouldn’t have put up a hell of a fight against him.

“Subject offline.” The computer says once it’s finished loading.

Dick closes his eyes and Gar gets an idea.

“IF-if-if Jason and Y/n are still down there, all-all that concrete and stone it-it, it would mask the GPS signal from the satellite.” Gar offers, hoping he's right. He can't think about Jason's tracker being offline for any other reason. It's too grave.

“Yes…it would.” Dick says as if he has an idea.

When Jason comes to, he’s blindfolded, tied to a chair, and his ears are covered with, what he assumed to be, noise-cancelling headphones. He can’t hear anything or see anything. He can’t move. He’s just trapped and his mind starts to race. It goes against everything he’s been taught by Bruce. He’s supposed to remain calm but how is he supposed to be calm when he can’t see or hear anything and doesn’t know if you’re here with him? He doesn’t know if they took you somewhere else. He doesn’t know if they killed you. He knows absolutely fucking nothing and it’s driving him insane. If it were just him, he’d be able to be calm and start thinking of his next way to escape. He’d figure something out because he’s clever but he’s not sure how he can escape and get you without getting caught again and he won’t leave you here.

You come to not long after and the throbbing of your head is worse this time. You’re certain you have a concussion and would really appreciate it if these grown men stopped using force. But, you’re tied to a chair, just like Jason with a blindfold covering your eyes and noise-canceling headphones covering your ears. You can feel that your hands are tied awkwardly. Your wrists are in agony, feeling like they might break if you move the wrong way. Your palms are facing up and outward from the back of the chair, the rope digging into your skin.

A lump forms in your throat because you’re back in a fucking basement and tied up. How fucking unfair is that? TWICE. TWICE. How does this happen twice? And now you’re here with Jason and this is your fault because you should have called Dick. You should have reacted quicker. You should have yelled for him. Done fucking something. You should have been faster, should have just shot Dr. Light with the acid and called it a fucking day. But, you didn’t. Because it was Jason’s mission and you wanted him to have this win. And then you fucking froze.

Not long after coming to, Jason feels something near his face and then it’s gone. He twitches in his seat, unsure of what’s going on. His heart rate spikes slightly as he waits. Deathstroke has a plan and the plan can’t be to randomly kill him now. Him and you are being used as bait. And he repeats that, over and over to try and calm himself down. If you’re bait, you won’t be killed right now. But, the thought flees his mind as he feels a stabbing and agonizing pain in his leg. Jason screams out.

“FUCK.” He bends his back forward and then back.

His legs is being carved into. The knife digs through skin and muscle as tears sting Jason’s eyes. And just when the knife stops the carving, he feel fingers in the wound and he flinches his leg, trying to get away but he’s legs are bound to the legs of the chair. He’s guessing it’s Deathstroke digging the tracker. The thing he felt near his face was likely some sort of device to detect a tracker and now he’s paying for it.

His stomach twists, nausea filling him as his mouth waters. He swears he’s going to lose it when the fingers are finally pulled away from the wound. Jason is left with the open cut on his leg, it pulsates with every passing second and he’s begging to pass out again just so he doesn’t have to feel it. Right about now, he’s starting to think Dick just might have had the right idea about taking the tracker out.

And a part of him, somehow, is so relieved that you don’t have a tracker. He wore the tracker as some sort of badge of honor. It meant that Bruce, fucking Batman, would be able to always find him. He was worth finding. Jason Todd was worth saving. And he liked that feeling but you never had one because Dick doesn’t like them and you weren’t picked up by Bruce. And he’s so happy about that because if you were, you’d be in the same pain he’s in right now and he never wants you to be in pain again. And the thought of this being his fault comes back to him.

This is his fault. This was his big idea to go rogue and prove himself. Dr. Light was easy and maybe that should have been the red flag but he was too arrogant to even think of that. He was on his little high horse about getting one over on Dick, taking down Dr. Light. It was accelerating. But, he never thought you would follow him. He never thought Deathstroke would be there. He never thought he’d be kidnapped with you. None of this he accounted for. It never even crossed his mind because he never thought of the consequences that could come from this. And that’s on him now. He should have been more careful. He should have listened to Gar. And maybe a part of him wishes he would have listened to Dick.

An hour goes by, and you and Jason have been trapped in complete darkness and silence. It’s a bit boring and concerning. All you want to do is go the fuck home, wake up from this nightmare. You want to hear Jason make some sort of fucked up joke about the situation that you’ll find tasteless and funny. And you want to see Gar’s smile that brings you so much happiness. You want to be in the safety of either of their rooms. Anywhere but fucking hear.

And Jason’s leg is still throbbing. It’s not pulsating anymore which is nice but it’s still throbbing and it’s exhausting. Being in pain, is absolutely exhausting. And he doesn’t know how much blood he’s lost but he’s guessing it’s probably enough to be a slight concern. And the only thing he wants to do, is get the fuck out of here. Then, apologize to you every single day he’s alive after this. He’ll never live it down. It’ll eat him alive and he knows it. If he doesn’t get you both out of here, that’s on him. This was his thing, his responsibility. He’s Robin, for fuck’s sake. How can he be Robin if he can’t even protect the one fucking person who he genuinely and truly and whole-heartedly cares about? The one person who doesn’t care about him being damaged goods?

But, the two of you are ripped from your thoughts as Deathstroke yanks your headphones off your heads, Jason’s first then yours.

“You mean your little sidekicks?” Deathstroke asks and you wonder who the fuck he’s talking to. Jason doesn’t miss a beat though.

“Hey! Who you calling a sidekick, asshole?” Jason yells and you can’t help but crack the faintest smile. He’s alive and still definitely kicking.

You’re honestly just glad to hear him. You aren’t really sure how he does it. You assumes he’s under the same treatment you’ve been getting which is silence and darkness. It’s kind of driving you insane and you’ve been kidnapped by a raging homicidal maniac. But, Jason has so much fire in him and you don’t get it. Of course, you’ve been through this before and you weren’t pleasant the first few months but you weren’t like Jason. Jason will fight against anything and everything and you’re beginning to think Jason is the reason parents tell their kids a kidnapper would bring that for being annoying. Dr. Light probably would have tossed Jason to the street if it were up to him. But, then you hear what you assume to be a fist connect with Jason’s face and Jason yells out.

“Hey! Shitface! Leave him the fuck alone!” You scream out and you don’t even know why you do it. You’re tied to a fucking chair. And that proved to be a mistake because Deathstroke decides to take a turn at you, punching you in the face.

Jason’s heart shatters. It immediately consumed him. He hears you gasping and groaning and he wants nothing more than to kill this fucker. He knows you’re trying to help, trying to get Deathstroke to leave him alone but a part of Jason thinks he deserves this. He thinks maybe he deserves the beatings to teach him some kind of lesson because if it weren’t for him, you would be safe at the tower right now. Not, kidnapped and being beaten…again.

“Yeah? You like picking on girls? Fuck, man, get a better fucking hobby. How’s knitting? Maybe it’ll calm you down? Or, trying getting laid.” Jason snarls, the taste of iron on his tongue. "Release some of that pent-up tension."

Deathstroke goes back to Jason and starts punching him in the stomach then in the face and then back to his stomach. Jason groans and yells out in pain. And just for good measure, he moves back to you for a final punch to you stomach as you groan out in pain.

“You fucking bastard!” You can hear Hank yelling and that’s when you realize it’s a phone call. “Come try that shit with me!”

“Just tell us what you want.” Dick states from the other end.

You hear Jason struggle for a breath and your eyes dart behind the blindfold. Your heart plummets into your stomach. Is Deathstroke strangling him?

“As I was saying,” Deathstroke starts, the slightest annoyance in his voice. “If you want them back, hand over Rose.”

Jason struggles more and more to breathe and you’re filled of panic. You aren’t sure how much fight you have left in you and you know the only reason both of you are even still alive right now is because Rose is safe at the tower. If she wasn’t, Deathstroke would have killed at least one of you and then been forced to kill the other. Neither of you would go down without a fight, especially with the other knocking on death’s door. But, you also know Dick won’t give up Rose and you’re panicking because what if he doesn’t? Deathstroke will kill you both.

“How do we know you’re gonna keep your promise?” Dick asks.

Jason gasps and coughs beside you, and you almost breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he’s actually still breathing. Not well, but breathing.

“Tonight, 3am. Embarcadero Plaza. Outside, use this phone to confirm.” Deathstroke says before hanging up the phone.

He puts your headphones back on and your heart breaks for the boy beside you. A part of you blame him, blames Gar. It was Jason’s idiotic, impulsive idea. He never thinks anything through and you’re so fucking mad at him. But, you didn’t put up a fight against it because as much as you love picking on him, you want him to feel wanted and worthy and loved. You know he thinks this, had it gone well, would have been his thing. This would have been Jason’s big win for the older Titans. And you wanted that so fucking bad for him that you can’t say no. And you owed him one because he’s the only one that fucking gets it. So, you blames Gar.

Gar is the logical one, the one who thinks things through. He’s the one that listens. When you and Jason are going behind Dick’s back doing something he absolutely told you not to do, Gar is doing what he’s asked or not getting involved and just not ratting you out. He doesn’t argue with Dick or fight with Rachel. That’s all you and Jason. He’s the level-headed one. And he should have known better, too. He should have known better with you and Jason being together because surely, the only thing that comes out of the two of you teaming up is utter chaos. But you know it’s wrong to blame him, too.

You have powers and training. You can produce deadly acid at the drop of a hat and your control over it is a win. You don’t miss targets with knives anymore, it all came back to you within a few weeks. You’re better now than you ever were in Gotham because Jason helped train you with those, too. But, you could have tried to shoot Deathstroke from behind you with the acid. And you had something to prove tonight, too. Maybe you didn’t want it as bad as Jason, but if this had gone how it should have, it would have been enough for you, too. You would have been able to prove you’re useful, that you can do more than sit around a tower and train. You could have done a lot of things to prevent this. Instead, you froze and Titans aren’t supposed to freeze. How can you call yourself a Titan if you freeze? This is your fault.

At some point, Deathstroke finds it in himself to remove yours and Jason’s blindfolds and headphones. The first thing Jason does is look to you but you avoid looking at him, keeping your stare at your lap. You know that if you look over, he’ll have a fat lip, blood probably on his face. Maybe he’ll have a black eye and it’ll eat you alive because his injuries are on you. If anyone could talk Jason out of this stupid, deluded idea, it would have been you. And you didn’t even try to stop him. And Jason’s heart sinks further into the pit of his stomach with you unable to look at him.

He looks away and he knows this is his fault but it hurts anyway because of all people, he expected you to make sure he was okay. To look at him and yell at him for this stupid idea but you’re quiet and looking to your lap. Your face looks defeated and there’s blood around your mouth.  Your injuries are his fault this time. You just fully healed not that long ago and now you’re back to being beaten and bloody and bruised and Jason never should have dragged you into this.

He should have insisted you turn around and go back with Gar. That would have been the right thing to do but he was selfish because he likes you. And that’s the first time he’s actually really thinking that but he knows that’s the reason. He likes you and he likes when you fight, he likes when you spar and he likes this look you give him when you watch him spar. It’s such an ego boost and if anyone would cheer him on fighting some psycho like Dr. Light, it’d be you. And Jason should have thought about what was best for you, not what he wanted. How are you ever going to forgive him for this?

“Y/n?” Jason says your name once Deathstroke leaves you alone. But, you don’t even move. No glance, nothing. You’re silent. “Y/n?” Jason’s voice is a little louder this time, riddled in guilt.

Part of your silence is just anxiety. You’re wrapping yourself in spinning anxiety, trying to figure out what to do. You can’t escape, not right now. But, you’ll probably be moved to a new location. Deathstroke hasn’t killed you now. If the plan was to use you as bait, it worked. The older Titans know you’re alive and kicking so Deathstroke could kill you now. Titans have the security that you’re alive. But, Deathstroke keeps you alive and you think it’s because he has something else planned. A guy like Deathstroke isn’t going to just give you up if Dick actually hands over Rose which you know Dick won’t do. So, you’re stuck worrying about that and you’re also just so fucking tired.

No one told you life could be so fucking exhausting. Your mom dies, you’re tortured, you get these powers you don’t even like, and now you’ve been kidnapped again. Seriously, you’re stuck on the fact this has happened twice and you want to know what kind of unlucky person actually gets kidnapped twice, in under two years. Why is it so much to ask to feel safe?

“Can you fucking look at me or something?” The frustration breaks Jason’s voice. You listen to him and Jason gets a better look at your face and he swears he’ll never forgive himself for it. And you think the same. Sure enough, he has a fat lip with blood around the corner and there’s a bruise starting on his cheek. “I’m so sorry.” Jason apologized. “I-I should have fucking listened to Gar.”

You shake your head and you won’t let him do this to himself. “Not your fault, Jay.”

“The fuck it is!” Jason nearly whines it out. “This was my idea!”

“Yeah, I know.” You scoff, shaking your head but your voice is flat. “And I didn’t stop you like you didn’t with me. I didn’t even put up a fight. So, it’s not your fucking fault, alright?” You look away, hanging your head slightly.

“I’m gonna get us out here, alright? I swear, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” You snap, your attention is back at him and there’s venom in your voice. “What? You gonna kill him? Yeah, okay and look where that’s gotten us, Jay. Have ya noticed that Dr. Light isn’t around? You heard him lately? See him anywhere? Why the fuck do you think that is?” You ramble off and you’re just so mad at yourself over this, you don’t know how to handle it and you feel so much guilt it’s like it’s squeezing the breath out of your lungs.

“I’m sorry.” Jason doesn’t have any remark back, he’s just sorry.

You look back at him, tears welling behind your eyes as you swallow a lump. You open your mouth to say something but then stop yourself for just a second. “I’m sorry, I’m just….I’m fucking tired, Jay.” Your voice breaks.

“You giving up?” Jason asks, his voice like glass.

He didn’t think you knew how to give up. You got a guy to beat you an inch from your life to escape. You’ve been experimented on and tortured. You were thrown into this whole new environment. You’ve been through hell and back more than once. Jason just thought you didn’t know what quitting even was but he can see the tears in your eyes that you’re done. You don’t have anything left in you anymore. It’s broken you and that is something Jason will have to live with for the rest of your lives. 

“If he was going to kill us, he would have done it when he got off the phone with Dick. He’s planning something but my head fucking hurts and I’m tired and I don’t know what it is. I’m just…I’m just tired.” You let out a sigh.

“Well…you can’t give up, Y/n.” Jason states as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You fucking can’t, I won’t let you.” Jason boasts his chest, you quirking a brow at him. And hey, if one thing gets you going, it’s Jason being a flirty smartass and if you’re going to get the fuck out of here, he needs to give you a little bit of fight. “Don’t you wanna get the fuck outta here so you can…jump Gar or something? Have one of those shitty-ass cheesy reunions like in those movies you like so much?”

You shake your head once in either direction, as if processing the question. “What?” Your voice breaks as you nearly start laughing. What the fuck is he doing?

Jason gets that grin you like so much. “Ya know, isn’t there one in like the Notebook or some shit? They meet again and have this barf-worthy reunion? Don’t you want that with Gar?”

“Are you trying to distract me from being in here, right now?” You blink at him.

“Is it working?” Jason chuckles softly at you.

“No, because that’s stupid.” You can’t help but laugh.

“It’s your fucking thing!” Jason defends his stance and he feels a little bit better because you’re laughing.

“I don’t daydream about it!”

“It might help, you’re a bit uptight sometimes.” Jason offers with that infamous cocky smirk of his.

Your eyes widen, mouth ajar as you blink at him a few times. “Me?!” You laugh and Jason sees the light back in your eyes. “Dude, you’re a bit uptight! Maybe you're the one that needs to get laid!”

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter. “I’ve been trying!” The comment leaves his mouth without him even thinking about it.

"Not hard enough, evidently." You continue to laugh with him and you aren't sure what he meant by the comment so you play along. It is making you feel better anyway and it's a good distraction. "Maybe you'll get lucky if you survive this."

"That an offer, babe?" Jason quips right back.

"Oh, you fucking wish, Birdboy." You chuckle with the roll of your eye.

"Yeah, I do. The fuck you gonna do about it then?" Jason strikes back and this is different than the other banter you normally get into. Jason doesn't normally admit to it. He dodges it, he dodges it better than you but dodges it nonetheless. This is new.

"Fuck you." You let out a sheepish laugh because you can't believe he didn't respond the way he normally does. You have a lot of things you'd rather say than telling him to fuck off but none of them seem right, especially right now. They all just seem like bad ideas. Distractions.

"See, you avoided it again." Jason holds a triumphant smile because no matter exactly what he's thinking about everything, he was just trying to get you to talk to him and cheer you up a bit. It worked. It doesn't matter if his comments were serious or not.

"One day, I'll be the one who's gonna commit to your little game and then you're not gonna know what to do." You fire back with a shy smile. "And I'll win."

"Yeah? Cause that still sounds like I'd win in that scenario." Jason grins at you, wiggling his grows while you laugh. He's so enduringly obnoxious. You adore him for it, too. Maybe one day, if you both survive this, you'll actually commit to it all. Maybe.

“Thanks.” Your laughing subsides as you offer Jason a cornered smile.

“Look,” Jason lets out a sigh. “Jokes fucking aside and shit, you know, I never wanted you to get hurt.”

“I know.” You nod your head. “I never wanted you to get hurt either.” You let out a breath.

You take a good look at him now, realizing that you’ll have to eventually and decide to get to it over with. There’s a part of you that fears whatever Deathstroke has planned isn’t going to be something so easily escapable. It’s probably something big, something to make some sort of point to Dick and the other Titans. You’re already pretty pessimistic and this is adding onto that. A part of you really thinks this might be it and maybe it’ll be the last time you get to see and talk with Jason. It nearly brings you to tears, the very thought of it is enough to destroy you. You’d be devastated if he died.

“Did he do that to you?!” You raise your voice as you can see the blood on his thigh, part of his suit cut open.

Jason moves his leg, as if to try and hide it like he isn’t tied down to the chair. “Yeah, bastard cut out my tracker.”

Your face drops and nausea fillsyouer stomach. “I’m so sorry, Jay. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason brushes it off, pretending like his leg isn’t in excruciating pain. “All good, barely even feel it now.”

“Ya know, I’m like…the one person you don’t have to bullshit, right?” You ask, knowing damn well he’s lying. If it didn’t hurt, he wouldn’t have tried to move it away.

“I’m not.” Jason scoffs.

“If you’re in pain, that’s okay. I’m in pain, for the record.”

Jason hangs his head slightly before looking to you. “Yeah, it fucking hurts.”

You shake your head. “Jason, I’m….I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, it’s not your fucking fault, alright?” Jason grits his teeth. “I got us into it.” You watch Jason’s face fall as he scoffs to himself. He’s not being so witty right now, he didn’t fight you on bullshitting you. You’re worried.

“I just…I don't wanna die, ya know?” You lets out this ragged laugh. “I’ve been through so much.” Your eyes water again. “And I made it out of those things and I thought….ya know? I’d be happy and now we’re here.” You shake your head. “I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not gonna fucking die.” Jason urges. “I don’t fucking care what I have to do, that fuck isn’t gonna kill you.” Jason’s eyes scan over your face.

“I don’t want you to die either.” Your voice is broken and soft. You suck in a breath, looking at him for maybe a second too long before looking away. "I just can't lose you."

Jason scoffs. “Dickweed can’t kill me. I’m not scared of him.” He's terrified of losing you, too. But, he can't bring himself to say it. It doesn't matter how, but he won't let you die. It's not gonna happen, one way or another, he won't let it happen. So he bites the comment back.

“Right,” You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m scared of him. Dude is fucking scary. And I’m scared he’s gonna kill you. I can’t…” You pause. “I can’t lose you, Jay.”

“You won’t.” Jason states, his voice low. “I’ll get us both out of here, alright?”

Jason is actually afraid of this whole situation. He’s hurt, his ear is bleeding and his hearing is still muffled. Deathstroke doesn’t care, he’d beat the both of you just because he could. Jason’s throat is sore from being choked. He’s tired. You look physically and mentally exhausted. It’s rough. This is the hardest night of his life and he has no idea how he’s supposed to get either of you out of here but he swears he’ll do it. He has to. He owes it to you.

He owes you for caring about him when he breathes pain into the very air you breathe. He owes it to you for giving him a chance. Jason doesn’t think you will be so forgiving when you make it out of this, and he doesn’t think he deserves to be forgiven. But, even if you never talk to him again for getting you kidnapped and beaten again, it’ll be worth it. If Jason is to save one person, it has to be you.

Jason loves to deny his feelings until he’s certain he’s safe with someone. Feelings are scary because they’re real. Once he says how he feels about something, it gets taken away. In one way or another, it gets ripped from him and torn to shreds. It’s like he’s this disease that spreads to everything good even when he really tries not to let it happen. Everything he touches turns into a fucked up mess. And saying how he feels, that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. But, he really cares about you more than he’s ever cared about anyone in that way. You just make him happy and he can’t let anything else happen to you. He’s let you down already and he needs to get you the fuck out of here.

Your eyes go distant again as you let out a breath so Jason keeps the conversation going. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.” You look over to him.

“How’d you know he was gonna go for me and not you? Your combat shit only works for you.” Jason’s eyes are slightly narrowed.

You shrug a shoulder. “Well, that’s the kind of the point.” You clear your throat. “Throbbing started, then it came to a dead stop and Deathstroke wasn’t gonna not do anything. So, it would have been you.”

“So, because the throbbing stopped, you knew he’d come for me?”

Jason’s never really felt completely protected before. Even with Bruce. At first, Jason didn’t trust Bruce because he was new, just some guy. It was all a little weird but then Bruce trusted him enough to ask him to be Robin. That changed things a little. He got the be the boy wonder and in a way, he felt protected because Gotham’s very own Batman was looking out for him and gave him these trackers to make sure he could always be found. But, with that also came being directly thrown into the line of fire. Jason loves it, wouldn’t trade it for the entire world. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, but he is in the line of a fire a lot. You knowing your combat clairvoyance enough to know it meant Deathstroke would go for Jason, it makes him feel completely protected.

“Pretty much, would have looked really dumb if I were wrong.” You laugh softly. “Guess, uh, it can protect more than me, sometimes, right?” Jason gains a cheeky smile with your words.

Before Jason can say anything though, Deathstroke reappears with a large bowl filled with water and his sword. Jason pushes away his thoughts about you, focusing his head on Deathstroke. He’s just going to try to annoy him. It is his best quality.

“You really are a pathetic piece of shit, you know that?” Jason snarks and you roll your eyes. “Rose deserves better than you for a father.” The comment makes you look back at him, a bit surprised by the remark. Ballsy. “Some freak in a ski mask whose name sounds like a bad case of VD.” Deathstroke completely ignores him and at least the guy has that going for him. “My friends will never give her up. You know that.”

You wonder how Jason can just talk and talk and talk. He never gets tired, he never has a sore throat. That boy could actually talk someone’s ear off. You just don’t get how he does it and how he is so unwavering. You know he’s freaked out, maybe he isn’t scared, but the whole thing has definitely got him on edge. But, no one would ever know that if they didn’t know him. You think even Gar wouldn’t notice and Gar notices a lot more than other people. Jason hides it so well and you admire him for it. Maybe, not trying to piss off Deathstroke of all people, but admirable in most situations.

“Well, then, you’re both the price they pay.” Deathstroke says in his standard calm tone, picking up his sword from the table.

If you could, you’d bang your head against a wall because you didn’t even do anything. You’re not even saying anything. How is this right? Eye for an eye? HOW?

“Fuck you, you pretentious asshole. Hey, look at me,” Jason demands and Deathstroke does as he says. “I’m not scared of you.” Jason taunts and if you could slap him upside the head, you would. Deathstroke should untie you just to let you do it. Why does Jason have to taunt your captor? Deathstroke, of all people. There is death right in his name.

“You should be terrified.” Deathstroke warns. “But instead, you’ve been played by that charlatan, Dick Grayson who gives costumes to foolish kids making them believe that they’re heroes, leading you like lambs to slaughter. But, not to worry, soon, you’ll learn. For death leads to purification.” Deathstroke says while sharpening his sword.

This isn’t good for either of you. Deathstroke really is going to kill the both of you over some fight with Dick. You can’t quite figure out how that all adds up. It’s something you never understood in movies or tv shows. Going after kids because some dude is mad at the parent or mentor. What is the point? But, you’ve been through this before.

Jerry had issues with Batman once upon a time which prompted the experiments. You’ve been through this. Life or death. Do or die. You want to give up because this life is exhausting but you can’t because Jason fucking Todd is next to you bleeding and in pain and as long as you’re alive, you’ll protect him against everything in your power. You’ll fight for him because he does for you. You’ll do everything to make sure he’s okay because as far as you’re concerned, Jason Todd deserves a break and to know that he’s fucking cared about by someone. In spite of any fuck up he might do.

A few hours go by, Jason and you not making much conversation with Deathstroke still around. You both thought Deathstroke might go find something to do and you could talk, but instead, Deathstroke walks towards you and unties Jason first, holding a sword to your throat. You eye him with annoyance as Jason stands up, his legs feeling a bit weak. The wound in his leg is much worse than he originally thought. It is agonizing trying to put weight on it but he looks at you with the blade to your neck and acts like he doesn’t want to burst into a screaming fit.

“Do something stupid, I will kill her here.” Deathstroke threatens and you roll your eyes. Jason nods his head, his expression clearly annoyed even through the mask. Deathstroke unties you with one hand and moves the sword just enough for you to get to your feet. “Walk.” Deathstroke demands, pointing in the direction of the elevator.

Jason leads, followed by you, and then Deathstroke with the sword held against your back. Jason wants to fight it. He wants to spin around and throw one of the Robin blades at him but he doesn’t. He keeps a steady pace to the elevator because if he misses, he gets you. If he hits anything short of a kill shot, Deathstroke kills you. Deathstroke knew exactly how to control the both of you. Just threaten the other. You and Jason think you aren’t transparent but you are. It’s obvious that you care about each other, more than just teammates and anyone within a 10-mile radius can see that, including Deathstroke. It’s a cruel, cruel form of control but it’s effective and Deathstroke doesn’t fucking care how cruel it is. So, you walk peacefully to the elevator and get inside, Deathstroke holding the blade against you the entire ride to the top floor.

Once at the top floor, you all file out of the elevator and go up a set of stairs that lead to the roof. Panic starts to hit you as you walk up the stairs. You’re terrified of heights. Petrified and now you’re going onto a roof. You just look around because of fucking course you’re on top of a skyscraper as if the night couldn’t possibly get any worse. Does Deathstroke plan to push you both off? That seems a little too easy for him. But, you’re worried anyway. Why else would he bring you to a roof of a skyscraper?

Deathstroke walks you and Jason onto a window cage that window washers use. It’s easy for him because you won’t make any sudden moves, not with Jason’s life at risk and not with you being twenty stories in the air. And Jason won’t risk Deathstroke killing you. This is in Deathstroke's control and it’s terrifying. He ties you both tightly to one of the railings and your hands start to shake behind your back as Deathstroke walks off. He uses a control in his hand to lower the two of you down a few floors. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head as you watch Deathstroke disappear the further down he sends you.

You look to Jason, fear in your eyes and you never told him you were afraid of heights. Sure, the two of you talk about trauma in a nonchalant joking way but actual real-life fears? No. That is unknown territory to talk about with the two of you but he can tell with your wide eyes and rapid breathing that you’re terrified. He can visibly see your chest heaving and your teeth chattering.

“You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?” He asks as the cage comes to a halt, still several stories up.

“Uh-huh.” You nod, swallowing thickly as your mouth starts to feel like cotton mouth. “I hate heights. I hate them. I don’t go on Ferris wheels because I’m terrified of being at the top. Like what if I get stuck there? Some Final Destination rollercoaster kind of shit. What if we fall? That sounds like a fucking terrible way to go out.” You start speaking a mile a minute, half of your words almost slurring together from the rapid speech and chattering of your teeth. “OR WORSE WHAT IF WE LIVE?!?!? DO YOU HOW BAD IT’S GONNA HURT IF THIS FUCKER DROPS US AND WE LIVE?” The panic spits out like venom.

Jason has no idea what to tell you. He could lie to you and tell you it’s all gonna be okay, he’ll figure something out. Dick will save you both but he doesn’t think that’ll happen. Deathstroke has seemed to have a pretty solid plan up until this point. And he knows Dick won’t give up Rose which he kind of admires if he wants to be honest. But, there are two of you and one of her. Sacrifice two people that he knows for one girl he’s known for a day? That’s a bit unfair. But, he needs to find a way to calm you down because you’re going to pass out if you don’t. And he cannot believe heights are going to be the thing that freaks you out the most. Not Deathstroke or being kidnapped again. Or Jerry or fighting Jerry. No, heights.

“Can you get your hands out?” Jason moves his eyes behind you and back to your face. You shake your head rapidly, making the dizziness worse. You swear you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Can someone actually die from a panic attack? Like is that something that can happen? Because it really feels like I’m about to die because I think my heart rate is like 150 or something. I don’t know what to do. Jason, you need to figure something out because I am literally going to lose it and I’m gonna have a heart attack and–”

“Y/n!” Jason yells just to get your attention and stop your rambling. He knows you’re scared, though he can’t pinpoint what about heights has you more afraid than Deathstroke. “Look at me.” He sucks in a breath. Your eyes lock with his and it’s like a switch flips in him. “The fuck you so afraid of heights for? Scared a bird is gonna attack you or some shit?” He snaps, just trying to get you to fight back, hoping it’ll be enough to distract you. “That’s stupid fucking fear, you know that?”

Your brows furrow and normally you’d understand what he’s doing. But, your mind is so blacked out with panic, you can’t find the reason screaming at your face. Instead, your heart sinks, still beating a mile a minute and you don’t know why he’s being mean, now of all times.

“We could–”

“Die?!” Jason argues. “Yeah, been a fucking possibility all fucking night but you’re freaking out now? We can escape, he’s not fucking here. Calm the fuck down and use the acid shit to get us the out of here.” Jason scoffs, trying his best to seem annoyed with you.

Jason thinks if he can make you mad enough, maybe you can concentrate on anything besides the heights. Maybe you can get you both out of this. It’s not fair and it’s mean and he knows it. He’ll have to feel bad about it later but right now, he can’t. You panicking next to him isn’t going to do either of you any good. It’ll distract him, too and you can’t afford that. You talked about your do or die moment with Jerry, well this is a do or die moment with Deathstroke and he needs you to focus on that. If Deathstroke drops you, at least you both can say you tried in some sort of afterlife Jason thinks will resemble Hell.

“T-that’s not…that’s not fair.” You shake your head, unsure if you can focus enough to produce any acid. “Why are you being mean?” You scream at him as your voice breaks.

It hurts a lot more than you would like to admit. Jason can be mean, he’s an asshole and you can be mean right back because you’re the same sometimes. It’s how you both function but you swore you could count on Jason to be understanding in a situation like this. You can’t help that heights are your downfall. And of all people, based on everything that’s happened between the two of you, you thought he’d be understanding but he’s just berating you and it hurts.

“Because this is fucking stupid!” Jason groans and he feels really guilty about being mean but it seems to be working. “You’re a Titan for fuck’s sake, get a fucking grip. Do something about it!”

“You do something about it!” You scream back at him. “You’re fucking Robin, aren’t you? You fucking do something! This was your idea!” The second it leaves your mouth, you knew you went too far and it’s all a lie anyway. But, you’re pissed and you’re scared.

“I can’t.” Jason grits his teeth as he tugs his arms against the rope and in any normal circumstance, he’d be pissed about you calling him out about Robin and he’d never admit to not being able to do something. He struggles against the restraints. “You have those freak powers, I don’t! Do you not fucking see my hands also tied?”

“I can’t focus enough to do it!” You scream at him and you’re actually worried that maybe you won’t be able to use your powers just because you’re scared. Maybe there’s a line with it. Maybe if you’re too scared, it shuts down. Maybe it stops working, then what? You’re too distracted anyway.

“Bullshit! You have more control over those stupid powers than anyone!” Jason fires back at you. “How fucking useless are you that you can’t use the acid to melt through some fucking rope?” He scoffs and he knows he’ll pay for this later but you’re not focused on the height anymore. And maybe if you can free both of you, he could scale the building and find a way to get you down. He doubts you’d start scaling the building with him if he finds a way to do that but there should be a wench or something on top of the roof.

You let out a scoff and look away from him. You already felt useless. You know. But, hearing Jason confirm it is devastating. You hate, more than anything, feeling useless and weak and now you’re trapped here, at your most exposed feeling just that with the person you swore you could trust more than anyone. And it just fucking hurts.

You dodge his reflection in the window and if you weren’t tied up right now. If you were a worse person, you’d fire back and call him useless because he’s fucking ROBIN and you are still stuck here in the same position. But, then you bounce back to this being your fault and maybe that’s not fair to only blame Jason for being mad at you.

You swear you have to be cursed. Kidnapped twice? Tortured twice? On two different occasions? It’s gotta be some sort of curse and maybe had you stayed behind, Jason would have been fine. Maybe Gar would have insisted to follow Jason and they would have been fine. But, you didn’t. You went with and you’re both kidnapped and stuck fifteen stories in the air.

Jason knows he went a step too far. The useless comment was a risk but he was hoping you’d prove him wrong. That’s more of your style anyway, prove someone wrong out of spite alone. It’s one of the things he likes most about you but this is a very different situation. Jason knows you aren’t useless, you’re just scared. There’s no doubt in his mind that if he weren’t here, you would have put up a hell of a fight against Dr. Light and Deathstroke. The only reason you didn’t was to protect him and he couldn’t protect you. So, Jason needs to find a way to either get you to use the acid or find a way to get you both out here. He owes you that much.

As Jason struggles, the blinds covering the windows go up, making him freeze. There’s Dick looking at the two of you with panic in his wide eyes. Any hope you had of Dick saving you went out of the window with the look on his face. He’s in the building and you’re pretty sure there’s some type of explosive on the side of Jason, you could see it when you looked at him. Deathstroke has the detonator with him and all he has to do is push a button and there you both go. Falling to your deaths.

Jason starts fighting harder as if coming to the same conclusion as you. He yanks and tugs, nearly pulling his shoulder out of socket. Deathstroke tied the rope a bit better than Dr. Light did. But he’s going to fight until the very last second. And you’re about at the breaking point. Why does this happen to you? And the people you care about? What is so fucking bad about you that it has to happen? You’re so sick of it and you’re going to fucking lose it. So, you struggle, too, pulling just as hard as Jason and focusing on the useless comment because it was fucking mean. And you focus on both of you probably dying.

“Jay?” You ask, looking over at him as you tug the rope harder. “We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

Jason pauses, looking to at you and there’s this darkness to your eyes, similar to what he saw at Jerry’s. “No.” He shakes his head, not even convincing himself. “No, Dick will figure it out.” He gains a little bit of hope with the look in your eye, maybe you have a plan. You’re at least fighting.

“He’s gonna blow the bomb and we’re gonna fall.” You state.

“Dick will get to it first.” Jason defends. Jason has his issues with Dick but he knows Dick won’t let either of you fall, not if he can stop it.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.” Jason says and it’s almost a plea that leaves his lips before he starts fighting the restraint some more. You both see Dick try to make a move, Deathstroke moving in front of him with a gun pointed at him. “He will.” Jason repeats.

As Jason fights, keeping his head forward, you both spot Kory. You piece together that the woman must be Kory given the lifted look Jason gets and the fact she’s the only one you haven’t met yet. That’s when slight relief kicks in for you. Two against one is a lot better odds especially when one of them is fucking Kory. Kory is such a badass from what everyone has said about her, including Jason and it’s like Jason gains the same hope because he tugs even harder as a fight starts going down in front of you, a helicopter circling from above you.

As the fight continues in front of you, you and Jason make work on your restraints, you can feel your hands finally starting to warm up. This is why you don’t like this power. It’s unpredictable. You can warm your hands with it, use it without even a thought, but when you’re in a dire situation, it decides to not wanna work. It is literally like there’s a block around it when you’re panicked and that’s bullshit. But, you get why Jason was so mean. He knew before you did and that means a lot, even if it was hurtful.

You pause for a second, hoping that if you stand still and talk, maybe it’ll work quicker. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” You state, keeping your head straight.

Jason pauses, looking to you with brows furrowed. “Don’t do that.” Jason scoffs before he continues tugging. It’s not your fault and he’ll go to his grave screaming it if he has to. “Not your fault.”

You nod. “I should have been able to though and I just… thought you should know that I’m sorry. And I care about you a lot.” You look at him, watching him struggle and it breaks your heart because he’s giving it all he has and you can tell by how he’s favoring his left leg that it hurts.

“This is on me, alright? My idea! My impulsive fucking plan! I’m sorry I dragged you into it.” Jason lets out a huff and he refuses to admit he couldn’t save you because there’s still time to be saved.

Dick rushes over to the window as Kory fights Deathstroke. “Hang in there.” He says before he starts hitting the glass.

Jason and you blink at him as if you were supposed to know what he had just said. You can only assume you were told to hang on or he’s coming to get you, something along those lines. Dick and Kory are putting up a hell of a fight and maybe they’ll win. Dick has been Robin for years and Kory, well, from what you’re told she blew up a hospital and from what you’re seeing, she’s fucking cool. So, you fight harder and you think about Jason reading to you and playing video games with Gar. And you choose to focus on those things and Jason telling you to put all your shit on him and Gar taking walks around the tower with you to make sure it’s safe. And your hands start burning.

Dick starts hitting the glass before Deathstroke throws something at Kory, the blue cylinders exploding as Kory uses fire against them. Dick looks over his shoulder, seeing Deathstroke walk over toward Kory. He has a choice to make and unfortunately, it’s not you and Jason right now. Kory is the priority because Deathstroke is a few feet away from killing her so he runs to her.

“Don’t tell anyone that I’m afraid of heights.” You warn him as acid drips from your hands and onto the restraints.

“Is that what you’re fucking concerned about?” Jason nearly laughs at your comment as you continue to tug, your arms and legs burning with every movement.

“HA!” You cheer, pulling your hands in front of yourself. “Yes.” You state looking at him, deliberately keeping your entire focus on him.

Jason lets out a relieved yell, a smile coming to his face. “Get me the fuck out of here!”

You move towards him and bend down. “I might burn--”

“Don’t care, do it!” Jason pulls the restraints taught, trying to give you room so hopefully you don’t burn him.

You’re able to free him and the two of you have a second of relief before you turn to face the building again. Inside, it looks like it’s getting messier. Deathstroke is putting up a really good fight against Dick and Kory. It’s actually completely insane to be watching right now. But Jason has an idea.

“Melt the glass of the window.” Jason nods his head towards the window.

Your eyes widen as you realize you’ll have to bend over the railing in order to do that. But you look back to Jason and he is unwavering. Maybe other people would think this whole night would mean you shouldn’t put your full trust into each other. You both got too caught up in everything to notice Deathstroke. You both didn’t think of backup and all of the bad shit that could happen. Both of you have failed to protect each other up until right now. But, for you, it proves you have every right to trust Jason because he fights like hell to keep you safe.

“I’ll hold onto you, you’ll be fine.” Jason assures you with a nod.

“If you drop me, I’ll come back from the fucking dead and murder you.” You blink at him and Jason chuckles to himself.

“Good luck with that, babe.”

You roll your eyes before walking over to the railing, taking a few seconds to let yourself panic about it. Your heart rate spikes but you lean over the railing anyway, Jason holding your hips so tight you swear it’ll leave bruises. Your hands press against the cool glass while your hands start to heat up once more. You keep your focus on melting the glass and Jason holding you. 

The window starts to crack beneath your palms and Jason gains a triumphant smile. He might have called you useless but he always believed in you. You’re bruised, broken, traumatized, and damaged, just like him and he gets up over and over and over again. You can do it, too and you do and he adores that part of you. Determined and resilient and he swears he’ll never let something like this happen to you ever again. But just a sense of relief fills your chests, a flashbang goes off inside the building, right in front of you.

The flash of the window shatters right from under you. You fall forward, Jason leaning back and holding onto you as tight as he possibly can while you scream. Your hands land on shards of glass sticking right up from the windowsill. Jason’s blinded for just a few seconds and when he gets a look inside the building, he spots Deathstroke off to the side with the detonator. His heart sinks and he knows. In a split second, Jason lets go of you right as Deathstroke presses the button.

Gar is watching from the living room at Titans Tower. He was holding his breath the entire time. He saw you free yourself and then free Jason. He had this sliver of hope because surely Jason had some type of repelling system with the Robin suit and you’d be home free but then you went for the window. And he saw the flowing of your hands against the window. Gar was so sure you and Jason would make it out. You were melting the window and you could escape that way but then, the glass shattered.

Gar watched you fall forward and Jason nearly fall backward holding his grip on you and Gar’s heart sunk. He heard Rachel gasp from behind him. No one in the living room even moved, not a centimeter. Everyone became frozen. Gar had hoped that you would pull yourself inside and then Jason but his hope fell short. The bomb goes off and Gar spins away from the TV because he can’t watch the two of you die. It feels like a bomb went off in his chest and he can’t breathe anymore. His feet are cemented to the floor and everything in him aches and screams, wishing it had been him. Wishing misery had been kinder to him and let this happen to him instead.

“Gar.” Rachel calls because her eyes are still glued to TV, she couldn’t bare to look away like a bad train wreck. And Gar stays silent. “Look.” Rachel’s voice is quiet.

You have your grip on the windowsill and everything in you cries, sobs. Every bone in your body is letting out a wail of unfiltered pain. You can’t feel Jason anymore. You don’t care that there’s glass sticking nearly all the way through your hands because you can’t feel him anymore and the bomb went off. Your arms are weak and your eyes hurt.

Dick slides over to the edge, spotting Jason and he lets out a breath. “Hold on.”

He looks to you before looking over the edge. His rationale isn’t solid. The smart thing to do would be to drag you in because you’re closer to Dick, but Jason is more at risk right now. You’re right there, he can grab you in an instant. You should be able to pull yourself up but Jason is a few feet below and he looks like he’s struggling. Dick has to save Jason. Jason grabs Dick’s hand.

“Don’t let go.” Dick’s words are breathy and you nearly choke because you know that means Jason hasn’t fallen to his death. Not yet. But, then you hear him scream and see Dick freeze from the corner of your eye.

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[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Gonna get a little personal for a minute but you know what grinds my fucking gears

Introverts on the Internet.

*note, if you identify with the term introvert but aren't a fucking asshole such as I am about to describe, this isn't about you but rather a larger issue I've observed

Cw: self-harm, substance abuse, mental illness (I'll get there)

I don't know who the fuck decided that a distinction nearly as scientifically baseless as your zodiac sign was such a metric to judge people by but Jesus fucking CHRIST

And you don't see "extroverts" doing this shit. I never once saw a post that was like "Hehe I'm such an extrovert I want to force ALLL my introvert friends out of the house!!! They're so boring and lame and weird" but all the time, ALL THE TIME it's "huehuehue I am an introvert I am morally AND intellectually superior. I hate all my friends and am annoyed when they expect me to show them any care or compassion BUT if they stop including me they are bad friends even though I tell them to fuck off when they invite me places. When strangers say hi to me in public I spit on them. Here's a tiktok I made joking about domestically abusing my roommate for inviting her friends over to our house" like fuck the fuck off???

Ignoring the fact that introvert and extrovert DO NOT MEAN "don't like people" "likes people" (they mean "gets energized from being around/not around people") and ignoring the fact that there's significant debate over whether or not this distinction even actually exists in psychology in the first place and ignoring the fact that many of these "introverts" aren't actually introverts and have undiagnosed mental illness or external circumstances that make social environments stressful (coming from someone mentally ill himself who thought she was an introvert because they had shitty friends and were depressed) can we just like. Leave people the fuck alone and not get mad at other humans for having the audacity to BE FRIENDLY!?!?

And it seeps into EVERYTHING. A depressed person who sits morosely in their room staring at a wall forgetting to eat, reading fucking. Catcher in the Rye over and over and over and cutting themselves is "deep, intellectual, etc." meanwhile a depressed person who goes to clubs because alcohol is the only way they can feel anything and they want so badly to be happy with their friends, blacking out making themselves sick, THAT person is "boring, dumb, not respectable"

How do I know? BECAUSE I WAS BOTH OF THESE DEPRESSED PEOPLE.

NEITHER OF THOSE BEHAVIORS SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED. THEY ARE BOTH SELF HARM. BUT NOBODY SHOULD BE MADE TO FEEL LIKE SHIT ABOUT THEMSELVES FOR HAVING A MENTAL ILLNESS EITHER. FUCK.

If you wouldn't be an asshole to someone for cutting themselves, don't be an asshole to someone for alcohol/drug use. Provide support? Yes! Express concerns, of course! But maybe just think about what you fucking say about strangers when you don't know what's going on in their life.

Context: I saw a post that said "If you need alcohol to have fun you're boring"

If you NEED alcohol to have fun, you are struggling with mental illness and you don't deserve to be called boring for it. Fuck. Rant over.

#People find me endlessly entertaining sober but I haven't felt authentic happiness without being sloshed in six years #anyway just stop being an asshole being an introvert or an extrovert or an ambivert doesn't make you better than anyone else #if you even are those things if they even exist in the first place #introvert #extrovert #ambivert #substance abuse #mental health #depression #cw: self-harm #cw: substance abuse