#richard needs to be put down immediately

[ludwigmulergobrrrrrr]

can’t believe I didn’t publish this

Feast upon the silliest of Rammstein doodles in honour of the Prague concert coming up.

[thewitchblue]

"Mooooooom!"

You heard across the house. Little Jason came running to you with an overbearing Dick trailing behind him, doing cartwheels.

"Mama, he won't leave me alone!"

Jason clutched onto a book he was trying to read and hid behind your legs. You wanted to laugh but managed to hold it back.

He peaked at Dick from his poor hiding spot. Now he was doing backflips. Dick wanted his attention, but he tried everything, and he couldn't find any other way to ask for his attention besides doing circus tricks. You asked,

"Dick, what do you want from Jason?"

Jason wrapped one of his arms around your leg. He only wanted to read in peace. He thought he finally found a corner in the library Dick hadn't found yet.

"I wanted to play a game with him, but he was busy reading, and I needed his attention to ask."

You kissed the top of Jason's head. Your sweet little boy, Jason, looked at Dick as if he were an alien. Surely, there are much easier ways to get his attention. He couldn't have been that engrossed, right? He looked at you with guilt-filled eyes.

"Ma? I didn't mean to ignore him, I promise."

You believe him. He would never intentionally ignore anybody, let alone his friendly big brother. Your heart melted at the teary look he gave you. He doesn't want to be thrown out back onto the streets. He knows you'd never do that, but it's an anxiety that won't go away.

"I believe you, sugar bear. You can listen to him now."

Jason bravely stepped out from his hiding place and walked towards Dick with a nervous smile. He still wanted to stay with you, but he listened to the game Dick proposed.

Your two boys ran off to cause their mischief after Dick explained the game he wanted to play. It was one of his favourite circus games that he knew Jason would love. He couldn't believe it took him months to remember the game.

You casually picked up the book that Jason accidentally dropped in his haste to play. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief. You read the first page and smiled. He was halfway through the book already and likely has the whole series stacked in a pile in the library.

You decided to put the book on his nightstand in his room. His room was covered in books with an entire wall dedicated only to books, but what's one more?

You smiled fondly as you looked around. Little Jason was so passionate. When he loves something, it's part of his heart forever.

Dick's room is full of circus decorations, and you even made a net on the ceiling to catch him when he inevitably falls from the ceiling after a circus trick.

You smiled as the two ran past you, both giggling like they were having the time of their lives. Until Dick backflipped over the guard rail on the third floor. You screamed,

"RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON!"

You ran to the railing and watched Dick ride the chandelier for five seconds before landing onto the couch like he's done it millions of times.

Horrified, you ran down the staircase. You had to check him for injuries immediately while he laughed. Jason was also terrified.

Dick wasn't even bruised to your relief, but the anger came after the relief. You physically relaxed but still looked at him with anger.

"Little wing, never do that again."

You pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his forehead. You will have to tell Bruce and figure out some way to prevent this from happening again. Maybe put up a mesh wall to stop it.

"You can't take the circus out of the kid, mom."

He winked with a grin. You shook your head with a small smile. He's right, of course, and that's why you have to safeguard the entire manor.

"You are so lucky that chandelier didn't fall. It's the oldest in the house."

He didn't seem too bothered by the idea of falling from the ceiling. You suppose he lost his fear of heights a long time ago.

"I tried to stop him, ma!"

You heard from the staircase. Jason was peaking behind the corner. You chuckled.

"I know, sugar bear. You can't control other people."

Alfred, who had been watching this whole time, said in an exasperated tone,

"I'll put a net up tomorrow, Mrs. Wayne."

You smiled gratefully at the butler, but Dick complained that nets take the fun out of his tricks. You chose to ignore his desire to be without a net and instead turned to Alfred,

"Thank you, Alfred. Dick, I'm putting up nets regardless. You shouldn't be doing dangerous tricks. I'll get you a jungle gym and a trampoline room for your tricks, but please stop doing circus tricks off of railings."

Dick was excited about the compromise and ran off again. To do what? Nobody knows. Jason hugged you. He asked shyly,

"Ma? Where is my book?"

You kissed the top of his head before telling him,

"In your room, sugar bear."

Jason, too, ran off after being told where his book is, almost running into Bruce in the process. He mumbled a quick apology as he scampered away.

Bruce watched on with amusement. Jason was a joy to have as a kid. You kissed Bruce's cheek when he approached you.

"How are you, my queen?"

You laughed at the nickname. He's always coming up with a new nickname, but he's really been enjoying calling you his queen lately.

"I'm recovering from a heart attack. We need another net, my liege."

Bruce groaned. Dick found a new spot to jump off of? He thought he had found all the spots. You said worriedly,

"He's only getting more and more creative, Bruce. I promised to build him a jungle gym and a trampoline room to get him to stop. He rode the chandelier!"

Bruce sighed softly. He can make those changes in the rooms next to the game room. His voice rumbled as he said,

"I'll get it taken care of, my love."

Alfred chimed in with raised eyebrows,

"How many more nets would you like, master Bruce?"

Bruce seemed to do a mental count of all the rooms in the manor and the ones he's blocked off. You have blocked out a good amount of the rooms and railings, but he worries Dick will simply jump off the balconies at this rate.

"At least 10 more. Thank you, Alfred."

You mirrored Bruce's thank you with a grateful smile. Alfred bowed before walking off.

You gave Bruce another kiss as he tucked you into his side. Bruce murmurs to you,

"I went to the orphanage today."

Bruce's baby fever knows no end. You rolled your eyes and said with a laugh,

"Are you collecting children like Pokemon cards?

He promised he hadn't taken in any more this time. He said while wrapping an arm around you,

"Two is plenty."

Well, jokes on you both because you ended up with twelve children, and Bruce has yet to stop. Where did he find them all? You had asked jokingly. At this rate, you are going to have a full house. He didn't have a better answer than "I'm Batman."

[batsandbirdbrains]

So Damian in the comics currently like wants to be a doctor or smth right? I want every single member of the Batfamily to find out and immediately start lobbying for him to become a physical therapist

“Dami, my favorite baby brother, it’s such a noble profession!”

“Go away, Richard, I have no interest in physical therapy”

“But Dami, please!” Dick whines, actually folding his hands and pleading, “I need someone to just like pop my pelvis back into place every so often. It’s so fucking annoying Damian, please.”

“Well maybe don’t contort yourself like a pretzel every time you sit down, and your pelvis won’t pop out so much!”

“But it’s so comfortable!”

“Clearly not, if it’s, and I quote, so fucking annoying to deal with.”

You have Tim following him around one day like, “But it would be so good to have a PT in the family, think of all the good you could do!”

“I can do more good in a field of medicine I’m actually interested in.”

“But my carpal tunnel-”

“Wouldn’t be so bad if you actually put your phone down for longer than ten minutes at a time and didn’t sit like a goblin at your computer 24/7.”

“I do not sit like a goblin-”

“Your posture is terrible. Your wrists are always bent at horrid angles. You sit there for three hours, get up to get a Red Bull, then sit back down for three more hours.”

Tim is so offended, and a little weirded out at how accurate that is, that he just leaves.

“Come on, brat, I need someone to fix my shoulders.”

“Not my problem.”

“Not your problem? It is if my shoulder locks up and a goon gets ahold of me and your precious big brother dies again-”

“You’re not the only one who’s died, you’re not special. You’re literally the founder of the Dead Robins Club, you can’t use being dead to guilt another member into something.”

“What, since when?”

“Since right now. I’ve just made it a new rule.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Actually I can. I’m Secretary and in charge of the club’s by-laws.”

“I thought Dick was the Secretary?”

“I’m Vice President and Event Coordinator, actually,” Dick says, climbing in through the window, startling Jason. “We switched up roles like two meetings ago, remember? There was a vote! Anyway, did you convince him to become a PT yet? Because my knee is doing that thing-”

“No, he hasn’t!” Damian tells them both. Then he turns on his heel to exit the room, muttering under his breath, “I hate this fucking family.”

When Bruce actually comes into his bedroom and smiles at him, Damian rolls over on his bed and groans into his pillow.

“Not you too,” he begs.

“It’s just my back, you know, ever since Bane-”

“That’s not fair!” Damian practically whines.

“It just would be nice if we had a PT we could trust.”

“You have a whole network of them through the Justice League, use one of them!”

“It’s not the same, Damian.”

He just groans even louder, kicking his feet and whining. He will have a full on tantrum if it gets his father to leave him alone.

It does work.

Until he gets three texts in a row with schools that have good physical therapy programs.

Damian throws his phone across the room.

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 III

Part I Part II Part IV Part V

Took me so long to figure out how the rest of the story could go XP Also, I've seen how some of y'all want the reader to become a vigilante/villain :) It is definitely possible but not with the current story idea I have in mind. Maybe one day, I'll make a side story where the reader becomes a vigilante/villain

CW: Violence (Bar Fight), Stalking, Blood, "Death"

It has been a few weeks since you moved into Bludhaven and Nightwing being your nighttime companion

He always comes over to your apartment with a couple of injuries and asks to stay a bit

With Nightwing’s instructions, you learn to bandage injuries to help the hero

Maybe it’s because your mental wounds from your neglectful family are still fresh, but Nightwing quickly started to grow on you.

It just feels nice to have a friend while adjusting to your new life.

It also could be because he actually came to the rescue when you were attacked

This does make you wonder why Batman didn’t save you in Gotham but who knows what that big guy does.

Another thing you wonder about sometimes is who Nightwing is.

You were never really curious about the vigilantes in Gotham, even though four well-known vigilantes resided there.

Ever since you met Nightwing, you tried doing some research on him but you immediately stopped when you saw the words “Richard Grayson” in an article.

While the batfamily would be more than happy to stay in Bluvenon so they can meet you, Gotham needed them. (Also they may overwhelm you)

Because of this, the family (except Dick and Jason) return home where more plans are made.

Jason decided that he will be the next person you meet and he won’t take no for an answer.

There is one problem though, you’ve seen Jason with his Red Hood attire

You may not have connected the dots at the time but you definitely will when you see him again.

After debating with Dick, Jason finally agrees to primarily watch you from a distance

In an attempt to meet more people, you decided to participate in some summer events that your college was hosting

You make a couple of friends and go out together

College classes are just around the corner and your friends suggested going out to a bar

This is a special moment so you decide to go with them

You all made plans on the designated driver and kept an eye out for your drinks

When you go to the bar, it's almost sunset.

This is your first time drinking but you trust your friends to keep you safe. (You ended up hating the taste)

Unknown to you, Jason is watching you from outside of the bar

If it was Dick’s turn to watch over you, he’d drag you back to your apartment.

Jason just allows you to have your fun time with friends, getting lost in how happy and innocent you seem.

This all crashes down when a fight suddenly happens right next to you

You and your friends try to get away from the scene but you're suddenly knocked to the ground

A drunk person slams a glass of alcohol next to you, probably mistaking you for someone else, which gives you a ton of small cuts.

Jason quickly puts on his mask and breaks into the bar. He beats up any drunk person who tries to stop him from reaching you.

Your sober friend tries to pull you away from the fight but is worried about all of your cuts

Red Hood suddenly appears to drag you and your friend away from the fight.

The fight gets worse and some random person seems to have called the ambulance

When the ambulance arrives, your sober friend hands you over to them and Red Hood disappears

You’re given a few bandages before the medic has to focus on another injured individual

In your dizzy state, you manage to slip away to stop the ringing in your ears

Something in you also told you it wasn’t safe to go to the hospital

Walking through an alley, your bandages seem to loosen and you eventually collapse on the ground from blood loss

Red Hood steps away for a second and you suddenly disappear.

He didn't want to be seen by the ambulance so he got onto a nearby rooftop to update Nightwing on the situation.

At least you didn't get far but the blood pooling under you slowly grows. This would be the second time you died

Nightwing appears and finds you wrapped up in a jacket while Red Hood picks you up off the ground.

One of the walls of the alley seems to have gotten a hole from Red Hood punching it out of frustration

Getting closer, Nightwing can see that you were given fresh bandages before being wrapped up in Red Hood’s jacket.

Also, you’re still breathing!

Seeing that you may still be alive, you’re taken to Nightwing’s apartment

Red Hood places you on the bed while Nightwing contacts Batman.

After one final look over and a blanket thrown over your body, Red Hood joins Nightwing in the living room

You slowly wake up in an unknown room and immediately sit up

The first thing you notice is how dark the room is

Squinting a bit, you find a lamp on the nightstand and turn it on

You find yourself in a bedroom with a blue and black color palette

There’s a desk in front of the bed with two computer monitors

You turn on the computer to see the date and immediately recognize a name

Richard Grayson

The name is enough to fill you with annoyance but you try to stay focused

How did you get here? Are you back in Gotham? Back at the manor?

You go to the bedroom door to find a living room instead of a hallway

Maybe you were still in Bludhaven?

This room definitely looks like it belongs to Dick

You never found his room in the manor but you did learn about some of his interests when you tried to befriend him (Alfred had to tell you all this)

As you finish snooping around the bedroom, a sound from the other room makes you freeze up

You quickly turn the light off, lay back on the bed, close your eyes and pretend to be sleeping

There are some voices in the living room but it's hard to hear past the sound of your racing heartbeat

Your heart almost stops when you hear the bedroom door open and the voices get louder.

At least you can actually understand what they’re saying now

They mention Batman, Robin, Demon Spawn, and other things you don't understand.

Maybe this was Dick and his friend talking about vigilantes? Though…one of them sounds familiar….

Your train of thought is cut off by someone putting their wait on the bed and running their hand through your hair

To distract yourself, you try to recognize the voice the best you can. Could it be Nightwing? Does Dick know him?

A kiss is placed on your forehead before the two people leave the bedroom.

After waiting a couple of moments, you open your eyes and confirm that you’re alone.

You slowly slip out of bed to try to listen to hear more of their conversation.

It seems that they called someone because there are new voices but it isn't that clear

The conversation begins to scare you as they talk about you.

Calling you their sibling/daughter and status on how your injuries were healing

Based on what is being said, you figure out that five vigilantes know quite a bit about you…

Deciding that you’ve had enough, you find a way to sneak out of the apartment

Looking out the window, it looks like you're a few floors high.

You carefully open the window as quietly as you can and peek outside to find a fire escape just one window away

You must be lucky because you reach the stairs safely and immediately start going down the stairs

The sun is about to rise and you realize that you don't know where you are

You run around for an unknown amount of time before finding a bus stop

There isn't any money on you so you just pick up a map for the bus route

Looking over the map, you’re able to find a familiar street before finally making it home

It took you a long time to get a new key because you basically had nothing on you but eventually, you were able to finally collapse on your bed

You fall asleep immediately

By the time you wake up, it is night again

Getting up, you start making yourself some food while some research on vigilantes

Focused on finding answers, you’re able to connect the dots on who the vigilantes are based on your information from when you lived in the manor

At some point, a knock is heard from your window

On instinct, you walk over to your window and open your curtains

Seeing Nightwing and his dumb smile fills you with rage. Which you are more than happy to let him know

You close your curtain and can faintly hear Nightwing trying to talk to you from the other side of the window

Well, it seems that you now know their identity

Jason saw and heard you run off. He and Dick were about to follow but Bruce told them to not follow you

The next night, Jason watch you reject Dick as he tried to pretend last night didn’t even happen

But it seems you weren’t having any of it

Dick returns to Jason, dejected

A new plan would have to be made, and Tim knows exactly how to get back on track

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

BestFriend! Richard Grayson

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who's always there to talk on those lonely nights where you just need somebody with you after a long day of work. His voice is just so comforting and he almost always has something useful to say or put into the conversation.

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who's always your shoulder to cry on whenever you get dumped or stold up on a date. The way his hands move across your back as you cry into his chest honestly feels more useful than your therapist, sometimes.

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who takes you out on friend dates as often as he can because you desperately need to get out of the house. He would buy you a $300 steak, if it made you happy and like the person he grew up with in high school.

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who sees how stressed you are almost every day and just wants to make it better. To be fair, his massages are the best and far better than any masoose you could book (especially on your salary).

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who calls you a petname out of the blue as you rest your head against his shoulder. The movie in the background had honestly faded into white noise as you let yourself drift off, nuzzled into his side.

"Dont go falling asleep on me, sweetheart. I won't be able to make myself move to go out on patrol tonight."

His tone is joking, of couse but it makes your cheeks heat up, nonetheless.

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who lets his hands wander across your thighs while he massages your sore hips from walking around at work all day.

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who doesn't even noticr how his hands wander right in between your legs, rubbing softly at your sensitive nub through the layers of your shorts and panties.

"Dick-"

"Shh... Just let me take care of you. You said your muscles were all tight from work, right?"

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who absolutely goes to town as soon as you give him the go ahead to have a small taste of you. And, god, does he eat like a starved man having his first meal.

"Taste so good, pretty girl..." He mutters through the obscene sounds of him practically making out with your pussy, tongue delving into crevices you could never reach by yourself.

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who is getting off on your taste alone, rutting his hard on into the plushy cushions of the couch for an ounce of relief but won't ask for help, since you were far more stressed and pent up than him.

Bestfriend! Richard Grayson who doesn't immediately agree when you ask to return the favor, but eventually gives in to your begging. He absolutely loses it as soon as your tongue trails overntue dark vein on the underside of his flushed, leaky cock.

"Oh, fuck-" he cuts himself off with a soft groan as soon as you hollow your cheeks around him. "So good... You're so fucking good for me." He's a babbling mess as you suck him off, trying as hard as he can not to blow it early like a horny prom date.

God, does he love it when you eventually swallow down all of his pearly ropes of cum.

Masterlist

[rosygaze]

busy woman

pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader

summary: you’re way too busy at your new job to even remember to eat sometimes. but you could spare a minute or two to pretend not to like it when johnny flirts with you. inspired by busy woman by sabrina carpenter!

word count: 3.9k+

note: help wanted part 2 is here! thank you for all the love on part 1 🫶🏻 i’ve been working on this for like three months and she’s finally here 🥹 i’m definitely planning more stuff for these two but i may need to see the movie before more parts come out lmao who knows! enjoy !!!

< prev part

“Excuse me. Sorry.” You weaved and dodged the hoard of busy employees rushing in different directions. With the looming deadline on the horizon, the facility resembled an ant colony more than an office. Each person had a single goal and that was to get that rocket up in space.

While you couldn’t solve a complicated equation or weld metal, you quickly learned that you were pretty good at being an assistant. You had already built a system and connections with other departments that made it easier for you to do your job. Sue seemed to like you, at least you hoped she did cause it’s only been a month and you realized that you really liked working here.

Currently, you were on your way to deliver the stack of folders in your arms. Across the floor, you spotted the long chalkboard filled with various symbols and numbers that you would probably never understand. Dr. Reed Richards stood at one end, a piece of chalk hovered over the board. You approached him.

“Dr. Richards?” He flinched a little as if you pulled him out of a number-induced trance. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Ah, you didn’t. You saved me, actually. I needed a break. This equation’s been racking my brain for weeks now.” Dr. Richards crossed out a string of numbers and letters.

“It does look pretty tricky.”

“Tricky’s one way to describe it.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw while he stared at the board in thought.

“I don’t wanna keep you for too long. Sue wanted you to have these documents.” You handed him the stack of files. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the mention of his wife.

“Thank you.” He flipped through them and picked out a single folder. “Has she mentioned anything about tonight?” He glanced at you expectantly.

“She’s very excited for your date.” You grinned. Over the past few weeks, you’ve been a firsthand witness of Sue and Reed’s relationship. The sweet nothings they would mumble to each other when they thought you were out of earshot, the extra slip of paper slipped in between stacks of folders, the way they seemed drawn to each other in a crowd.

Definitely didn’t make you feel more single than you already were.

Nope.

“Great.” Dr. Richards smiled shyly. You tried to ignore how red his face had gotten. “You tell her I’ll be done in a few hours and that I promise to be on time.”

“I will.”

“You’re the best.” Dr. Richards turned back to his board and immediately started scribbling. You took that as your sign to go back to your desk. Again, you weaved and dodged the crowd to get back to your desk and get started on yet another task. You were listing down to-dos in your head when you spotted a man by your desk. You sighed and braced yourself for impact.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jonathan Storm called out as he saw you approaching. He was leaning on the front of your desk. One leg crossed over the other, arms bracing his weight behind him. Big, handsome grin on his face.

“Johnny.” Your voice clipped as you walked around him. You started typing on your computer, trying to ignore him in hopes that he would leave you alone before he could see how flustered he had made you with two words and a smile.

“Busy?” He turned and put his forearms on the edge of your desk, eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Kinda.”

“Gunning for employee of the month?” Johnny picked up a pencil from your cup and started tapping it against the side of your monitor.

“Maybe.” You spared a glance at him. “Do you need anything from Sue?” You tried to divert the attention away from you.

“No, I don’t need anything from my dear sister today.” Johnny sighed and plopped down on the seat you kept in front of your desk for any visitors.

“Then what are you doing here?” You stopped your typing and you fully faced him.

“Wanted to see my favorite assistant.” He shrugged.

“I’m not your assistant.” You scoffed.

“No? Then I just wanted to see you.” A sly grin spread across his lips like the Cheshire cat. You blinked at him for a second, two. Allowing yourself to indulge in his attention until you remembered who he was, who you were, where you are.

You pulled your eyes away from his and looked down at your desk.

“Johnny… You can't say things like that to me.” You strained.

“Why not?” He asked you.

“Cause you work here.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. Could he really be this dense? “And I work here. For your sister, might I remind you.“

“What does that have to do with anything?"

“You can’t…you know.” You moved your hands in the air awkwardly.

“What?” He was goading you now, big brown eyes boring into yours.

“Flirt with me.” You said through your teeth.

“But I want to.”

“But you can’t.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I-“

He had you cornered. Damn him.

“How about this? I’ll try my absolute best not to flirt with you.” You glared at him but he never wavered. He continued to blind you with that signature Storm smile. “And you can pretend not to like it. Deal?”

“Johnny.”

“Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” Johnny put his arms out as if to say ‘See?’. “Just as pretty as you are.” He added with a wink.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed. You couldn’t stop the flush that spread over your body even if you wanted to. Before you could tell him off again, you heard Sue’s voice calling you from inside her office. “This isn’t over.” You pointed a finger at him and narrowed your eyes.

“Oh, I hope not.” Johnny simply smirked and slid down on the chair as if he were lounging on the beach.

The keyboard clicked and clacked away as you typed out a report. The office had gotten quiet, people started leaving a couple of hours ago. Even Sue had passed by your desk and told you not to stay that late. You promised you wouldn’t. You just had a couple more things to do and you could call it a day.

But you thought about how you would save so much time tomorrow if you got a few more things done today. So here you were, neck aching and hands cramping, checking off yet another one of your to-dos.

You rolled your neck around to relieve some of the ache. You really needed to be more conscious of your posture.

“If you keep staying here this late, I think they’re gonna start charging you rent.” A voice echoed through your empty office, making you jump. Your relief turned into annoyance when you saw who it was.

“Johnny, you scared me!” You put a hand to your pounding chest.

“You’re working in a dark office all alone and you get scared by little old me?” Johnny dropped down in the seat in front of you again. “But, don’t you worry. Johnny’s here now and he’s gonna keep all the scary monsters away.”

“My hero.” You said dryly but a smile tugged on your lips. “Nothing better to do tonight?”

“Just keeping you company.” He shrugged. “And making sure you don’t stay here overnight. Do you realize how late it is? You shook your head and checked your watch.

“It’s already 10pm?” You gasped. The nearest window to you was a couple of desks away so you didn’t realize just how late it had gotten. You swore you weren’t working that long.

“Didn’t see the sun setting?”

“Not really.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Did you leave this desk at all today?” Johnny raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, Sue had me pick up some reports from her earlier.” To which you took to your desk, sat down, and typed out reports for.

“And?”

You rattled your brain. “And… I used the ladies’ room a couple of times.”

Johnny made a ‘tsk’ sound and plopped a brown paper bag on your desk. “Eat up, busy bee.”

“What is this?”

“Food.” He reached inside and tossed something your way. You awkwardly caught it and saw that it was a burger wrapped in parchment paper. “I'm pretty sure you haven't had anything to eat the whole day.”

“How’d you know that?” You said, voice barely over a whisper. Your stomach grumbled as if it remembered what hunger was. Meanwhile, Johnny was already digging into his own burger.

“Well, I’ve been watching you for a couple of weeks now. I know you get so focused on your work that you skip meals.” He picked up a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “And when I saw your car in the parking lot, I figured you'd be in here for another hour or so, so I went and picked up some burgers for us. Lo and behold, here you are. Glued to your desk.”

You were quiet for a second. Since you started here, Johnny had been pestering you. He was nice, of course but he had a knack for catching you at your busiest and talking your ear off. He annoyed you most days, made you smile on others.

Today. Today, he made you smile. Johnny noticed that you were working late and brought you food. You could cry but you weren’t sure if it was because you were touched or hungry.

“You've been watching me? Stalker.” You unwrapped your burger and took a bite. He rolled his eyes at you.

“That's all you got? No ‘I love you, Johnny! You saved me from starving to death!’?”

“Thank you, Johnny. You saved me from starving to death.” You continued to eat your burger and looked Johnny dead in the eye.

“I think you got that first part wrong.” Johnny lifted his brows, expectantly. He wanted to hear the words ‘I love you, Johnny’ come out of your mouth. Fat chance.

“Mm,” You moaned exaggeratedly around your burger, making Johnny shift in his seat. “This is so good. It wiped my memory. Who are you again?”

Johnny chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Go eat your burger.”

A-choo!

You sneezed into a wad of tissue that you’d crumpled into your hand. You wiped your nose and stuffed it into your skirt pocket. There was a bug going around and you did everything in your power to keep it away from you. You took your vitamins, overloaded yourself with fruits and vegetables, stayed far away from anyone who tried to clear their throat.

And yet. It got you.

You sniffled miserably and went back to taking notes on the engine test Sue asked for. It was hard to focus when you had a pounding headache and a round of coughs threatening to spill out. Shake it off.

“You feeling okay, hon?” A gruff voice asked. You turned and saw the kind, worried eyes of Benjamin Grimm.

“I’m fine, Ben.” Your voice was hoarse.

“That runny nose and wad of tissues sticking out of your pocket says otherwise.” He pointed a finger down.

“That’s nothing.” You shoved your hand in your pocket and pushed everything down.

“If you say so.” He nudged your arm with his elbow. “Take it easy at least.”

You smiled gratefully. Ben looked rough and mean on the outside, piercing blue eyes and a mouth of a sailor to match. You were pretty intimidated by him when you were first introduced but you quickly learned that he was just a big sweetheart once you got to know him.

The two of you continued your work. Ben was helping you make sense of all the technical jargon. After a couple of minutes of note taking, your vision started to get hazy and you wobbled on your heels.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Ben stated. He gripped your arm and gently pulled you down to a nearby chair. You wanted to protest but he cut you off. “No, no. Sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

You tried to call out to him but that round of coughs you were suppressing finally made itself known. When you were done, you sunk down in your chair. I hate this. You thought. God, you missed the days when your nose wasn’t clogged.

“Hey, so I stayed in last night. Crazy, I know. Who am I?” You groaned. Johnny was gonna rip you a new one. You sat up and put on the most “I’m not sick!” expression you could muster, even slapped your cheeks a few times to get some color back in them. Johnny strolled up, carefree as always. “Anyways, I watched that movie you were talking about last week and- whoa, wait.” He stopped in front of you. Johnny scanned your face with an intense gaze.

“Hi, Johnny.” You said, sweetly, but he just narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned.

“Nothing’s wrong. How was the movie?” You tried to distract him.

“No, no, no. You look pale.” Johnny put one hand on the back of your chair and bent down to be closer to you. Your face was heating up. You were going to chalk that up to the fever you were probably developing…and not because of his face so close to yours. “Did you forget to eat again?”

“I had lunch.”

“She’s sick!” You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Ben coming back with a glass of water in hand.

“Ben!” You groaned.

“Sick?” Johnny immediately grabbed your face with both hands. “You’re burning up, sweetheart.” Johnny’s voice was soft. His thumb brushed your cheek with a featherlight touch. You leaned into his palm for a fraction of a second. Blame it on your flu-ridden brain.

“Johnny, it’s okay.” You matched his tone.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home.” He gave you an incredulous look. He took one of his hands away from your face and reached back for the glass of water from Ben. “Drink.”

You took big gulps. You didn’t realize how dehydrated you’d become. “I’m not going home.”

“I’m taking you home.” Johnny put his hands on your forearms and pulled you up gently but firmly.

“You don’t know where I live, Johnny. And I’m not leaving.” You shook your head which was a big mistake. You felt light-headed again and wobbled. Johnny gripped you even tighter while glaring at you.

“Sue!” Ugh. You heard your boss’ heels clack behind you. You turned your head much slower this time. “Your assistant has the plague and refuses to go home.”

“The plague?” Sue raised a brow.

“He’s being dramatic.” You corrected him. Sue put the back of her hand to your forehead and tsk-ed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve given you the day off.” She crossed her arms.

“We have so much to do.” Your argument was getting weaker every time.

“It can wait til tomorrow. Today, all I want you to do is to rest until you feel better.” She pointed at you.

“But-“

“No buts.”

Fight’s over.

“Fine.” You conceded with a pout.

“I’ll drive her home.” Johnny put an arm around your shoulder and guided you to a walking pace.

“Feel better, hon!” Ben called out to you. You waved back to him.

“Did you like the movie though?” You asked Johnny.

“Loved it.”

The copy machine was slower than usual today and you were getting impatient. You had a pile of 30-page reports that needed 4 copies by tomorrow morning and you were only at number 3. It didn’t help that you picked the wrong pair of heels today and they were pinching your toes. Never, ever wear pointy heels at work.

You fed another piece of paper through the machine and put your weight against it while you tried to alleviate some of the pain on your feet. You rolled your ankles a few times on each side while grabbing the warm piece of paper and placed it with the rest of the copies. That was the last of copy 3. You pulled out the original pages and started the process one last time.

Sighing, you put the first page in. You looked around the office. It was pretty empty at this time, but there were a few stragglers that you knew would start packing up soon. The machine whirred while you took a headcount of who was still here. John, William, Shelley, Johnny….

Wait.

Your eyes snapped back to your desk where a certain blonde was in his usual seat. A smile tugged on your lips and you may or may not have started speeding up your copying. Once the final page shot out onto the tray, you gathered all of your papers and walked back to your desk.

Johnny was mindlessly fiddling with the pens you kept in a mug on your desk. He had his back to you so you would be able to surprise him for once.

“I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at yours.” You giggled when he flinched.

“Well, the view here is much better than mine.” He recovered quickly and shot you an easy smile. You shook your head, letting the flirty comment wash over you.

You pulled out the puncher and punched holes through the reports. You opened your box of paper fasteners and started to arrange your copies into their respective folders. Sparing a glance at Johnny, you saw that he was tapping a beat on your desk with a pensive expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Johnny tried to keep it light but you heard the edge in his voice.

“You're just…” You dragged, trying to find the right words. “Quieter than usual.”

“‘s been a long day.” He let out a long breath. Johnny’s brows furrowed and the corner of his lips turned downwards.

“I heard you went out into the field today.” You fastened the last report into its folder and gave Johnny your full attention.

“Keeping tabs on me?” A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

“Part of the job.” You shrugged. “Did something happen?”

“I’m grounded.” Johnny said after a beat.

“What?”

“I’m not allowed to fly for a month.” He stopped his drumming and placed his palm flat on the wood.

“Why would they do that?” Johnny was one of the most competent pilots in the program. It made no sense to suspend him like this.

“You know that the new jets came in this week, right?” You nodded to answer his question. “Well, they asked me to test those bad boys. See how fast they’d go. And that’s what I did.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’d ground you though.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Well, they only wanted me to go up to a certain speed but I knew they could go faster. I could go faster.”

“Did you?”

Johnny smiled, the first genuine one of the day. “I did. Going that fast. Nothing better than that. You just feel so…free.”

“That sounds amazing.” You couldn’t help but smile with him.

“It was. Until I landed.”

“What did they do?”

“Insubordination. That’s what they called it. The jet was fine, by the way. It was built to go that fast. The admiral just has a stick up his ass. I let him know that too.” Johnny said through gritted teeth, hand curling into a tight fist. You could see a flush of red on his cheeks and his breaths getting shallower.

“How long ‘till you can fly again?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand but you held yourself back.

“A month.” He scoffed.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief. “You’ll still be able to join the launch.”

“Ha, they can try to replace me.” Johnny jabbed a finger on his chest. “They won’t find someone else.”

“Oh, I know. The team wouldn’t let that happen.” You paused. “Neither would I.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. “Going soft on me now, sweetheart?”

“Just cause you’re all mopey today.” You teased. “I am sorry, Johnny.”

“Ah, it‘s not your fault.” He waved a hand at you. You frowned.

“But you’re upset and you’re my friend so still. I’m sorry.” You rambled.

“I’m your friend?” He asked, sounding way too happy about it.

“I think so. Do you think we are?” Your voice got quiet, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“I do.” Johnny nodded.

A warm, fuzzy feeling came over you. You didn't know when it happened, but Johnny had become a staple in your life. It was so easy to talk to him. You found yourself drawn to him in a crowd, saving seats for each other every time there was an office-wide meeting. Then of course, you found yourself here on most days. Sitting at your desk, talking about everything and nothing. Some days, Johnny would just sit there and wait for you to finish working. He’d talk your ear off but you realized it was just to get you to stop working and go home.

Johnny was a friend. And a pretty good one at that.

“Do you wanna go get something to eat? I think we both need to get out of this place.” You logged off your computer and shut it down.

“Asking me out?”

“As a friend.” You gave him a pointed look.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He played along, nodding sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I’ve got plans tonight so I’m gonna need a raincheck on that.” A part of you was disappointed but you brushed it off.

“That’s okay. Next time?” You slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Next time. But, thank you.” Johnny locked eyes with you. “For listening.”

“Any time.” You smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

“You go ahead. I forgot something in my locker.”

“Okay, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Drive safe.”

You navigated out of the building and pushed the doors open. Fresh air filled your lungs, something you often take for granted after being in a stuffy office all day. The parking lot was fairly empty. You could see your own car a few rows down and spotted Johnny’s fire red convertible parked close to the door.

What you didn’t expect to see was the woman leaning against it.

You recognized her. She worked here too but in a different department. She didn’t pay you mind when you walked past, too caught up with finding something in her bag. You looked away before she could catch you staring but your brain was going a hundred miles an hour.

Did she know Johnny? Of course, she knows Johnny. Everyone knows him. What was she doing by his car? And most importantly…

Why was this bothering you so much?

Eventually, you made it to your car and started the engine. As you were pulling out of the driveway, you caught a glimpse of Johnny coming out of the building. In the rearview mirror, you watched him walk up to the woman, kiss her cheek, and open the passenger door for her.

You pulled your eyes away and focused on the road ahead. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut. You felt a little nauseous but you ignored it, just like you ignored the green-eyed monster that was slowly making itself known.

Whatever.

You were too busy to have a crush on anyone, anyways.

Much less on someone like Jonathan Storm.

next part > (to be continued)

[wonderjanga]

Billy’s Homelessness

Being a homeless kid has its perks, Billy supposes. He’s picked up tips and tricks from other kids and even adults during his time. It’s practically second nature to him at this point. Only thing is, the fact that it’s second nature in the first place is what can come back to bite him in the future.

Like lock picking. He’s good at it, and it’s not something he’s particularly proud of, but it’s helped him when he’s needed it most. He’s gotten shelter from blizzards, sleet, and rain with this skill. That’s why when Billy, Flash, GL, and Supes got locked in an all yellow room with red sun lamps and a locked door.

Supes, GL, and Flash: *all discussing how to get out* Marvel: *leans down in front of the keyhole of the door*

Supes: “Alright Flash, vibrate through the door-”

Marvel: “Done!” *opens door*

*silence*

GL: “How’d you do that?”

Marvel: “I picked the lock.” *walks out and immediately gets shot in the face by one of the guards*

Then there’s pickpocketing. He’s also unfortunately good at this. Freddy says he’s better though. Billy isn’t about to make a contest out of it. Batman found out about this particular talent when both him and Billy went undercover for a mission to uncover the scheme of some foreign politician.

Batman: *as Bruce Wayne* “That’s the man.” *subtly gestures to him*

Marvel: “Him? Okay… What do you wanna do?”

Batman: “First, we need to properly identify-”

Marvel: “Oh, okay.” *walks over to the man, passes him, then comes back to Bruce* “Here.” *places the man’s wallet in Bruce’s hand*

Batman: “…that he was involved in the crimes.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

*silence*

Batman: *opens the wallet anyways and starts looking through it*

Marvel: “Do you want me to put it back?”

Batman: *puts one finger up to Marvel’s face while he continues looking through the wallet*

Marvel: *deflates slightly* “Oh, okay.”

Batman: *pulls out a clue from the wallet* “Put this back, chum.”

Marvel: *scurries off to put the wallet back*

Bruce then heavily lamented how Marvel knew how to pickpocket so well. Cause the thing is, Marvel’s like six feet tall. (Had to make him a little shorter guys. My bad.) A man like that had no business doing that so well in a bright red sweater and yellow hat.

Then, there’s the avoiding cops. He rarely sticks around for them. He does not mess with them. He’s had too many bad experiences as Billy for it to translate well to Marvel. Whenever one tries to talk to him, he’ll say the bare minimum as politely as he can and fly off. Sometimes, if he knows it’s a cop who’s harsher on the homeless than most, he’ll act polite(passive aggressive) and then give them a nice, firm(crushing) handshake. One such incident was when a cop asked for a photo:

Cop A and Marvel: *posing for a photo by shaking hands*

Marvel: *smiling at the camera, his grip tightening on the hand*

Cop A: *awkward laugh* “That’s a tight grip you got there, Captain.”

Marvel: *lightens his grip, looking down to Cop A’s name tag: Richard* (This isn’t Nightwing guys) “My bad, dick.”

Cop A: “Excuse me?”

Marvel: “Oh no no no, not like “dick,” Dick.” *grip tightens again* “Not like some spineless, lowlife piece of shit from the bottom of my boot that gets scraped off onto a bigger pile of shit, kind of dick.” *smiles the whole time as he speaks* “No, like your name, officer, Dick.”

Cop A: “I prefer Richard.”

Cop B: *takes photo*

Also, anybody who gets that reference gets a kiss. Man or woman. It doesn’t matter. I don’t make the rules. By the way, someone definitely recorded that entire interaction and #passiveaggressivecap ended up trending on twitter.

Then, there’s the time Supes came over to Fawcett to hang out. They were chilling on a rooftop talking when down below they both saw a teenager steal food from a seller.

Supes: *doesn’t see Marvel move* “Aren’t you gonna stop that kid?”

Marvel: “Uh… no. He’s homeless. He clearly needs it more than we do.”

Supes: *blinks rapidly but then remembers he’s not in Metropolis and can’t really tell Marvel how to run his city* “Okay then.”

[baji-side-sideblog]

Clipped Bird Chapter 4

Chapter 1, ch 2, ch 3, current, 5 the end

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

Waking up, your body feels heavy. Looking around you shoot up in your bed, seeing you’re in your old room. You’re in the mansion, Jason fucking kidnapped you that jerk. Getting up you try opening the door, but it’s locked; huffing you look around your room hoping there is some object to help you. Though after a few minutes of searching you find nothing, which isn’t surprising knowing them. This is such a nightmare, hopefully Alfred can come help you out of this, or at least talk some sense into the others.

Listening in your ears picks up the sounds of footsteps, immediately you hide in the shadows. The door opens and Damian steps in, using the opportunity you sneak out. The door slams close behind you and you can hear the younger robin looking around your room for you. Quickly you move, keeping an eye out for the others especially when you hear them run over to your room.

Turning a corner you bump right into Alfred, his hands land on your shoulders keeping you still. Looking at him, you feel your breath hitch. You cling onto him tightly, shaking a bit and tearing up, he gently pets your head to soothe you.

“Please, help me get out of here. Please dad.”

Alfred’s grip on you tightens a bit, he’s glad you can’t see his face. The pain and conflict that his eyes can’t hide no matter how much he tries. He just wants to make sure you’re safe, but he hates to see you upset.

“I can’t, they have everything on lock down.”

“But I’m sneaky, can’t we do anything at all?”

“We always have a back up little bird,” Dick’s voice cuts through the air, “You scared the heck out of us with that disappearing act of yours. Glad you’re ok though. You really need to stop disappearing and reappearing.”

Turning around seeing Dick walk over to you, you hide behind Alfred. The butler holds his hand up, stopping him.

“You can’t rush them, you must give them time to readjust,” he holds your hand, rubbing his thumb against it, “You’ll only make things worse by rushing them.”

“Right, of course. How about I get you some food? Would you like that little bird?”

“No, leave me alone Richard.”

Dick clutches his heart in pain hearing you call him that, “Ok, ok, I’ll give you some space.”

Once he walks away, you peak your head out from behind Alfred. You play with his hand trying to calm yourself down, taking deep breath after deep breath.

“Let me guess, they put a tracker on me…”

Alfred nods, “They did, I’m sorry my dear.”

“If I have to interact with them, can you at least tell my friend Jenny I’m ok?”

“I can do that for you.”

You hug him again and tell him Jenny’s number, when you hear stomping coming closer. It’s Damian and he looks super upset probably from you locking him in your room, he huffs grabbing your arm.

“You’re coming with me, and you’re not getting out of hanging out with me.”

Alfred tries to chime up for you, but Damian is already dragging you away towards the living room. He makes you sit across from him Titus jumping onto your lap laying over you. Least he makes this more bearable. You cling onto the dog petting his shoulder and head.

“Why did you leave?”

You pause for a second thinking, your words didn’t get anywhere with Tim. But even if Damian is a pain in the ass with anger issues, he’s also a kid still. The least you can do is give him the truth. Give him what the others haven’t given to you, honest communication.

“Cause I didn’t feel like I belonged, except with Alfred of course,” you don’t look up at him, focusing on Titus to keep you steady, “To me I wasn’t family to any of you, so I blocked you from my heart to make the pain less. A part of me did want to stay for Alfred, but I didn’t want to be suffocated in this house of pain. It’s complicated Damian.”

“You know it’s because you’re not a vigilante, right?”

“I know it was to ’keep me safe’, but it doesn’t erase the pain. You can only tell yourself something for so long till it means nothing anymore.”

The boy huffs and pets Alfred the cat as he trots over. You’re glad he’s at least not arguing with you about it, maybe it’s cause this is the most open you’ve been with them. And he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

“I want to…” he grimaces, struggling to get the right words, “I still want to be your little brother.”

Your heart aches hearing that, you want to run away fear of being hurt, angry that now they want you in the family. But you so badly want to accept it. You screamed at Tim for trying to get you back to the family, but you can’t help but give Damian leeway due to his age. Plus at least he has always been honest about his feelings about you.

“…It’ll take time for me to let you in again. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do that. Especially since y’all kidnapped me from my college and locked me in the house.”

“Well if you just talked with Tim and agreed to visit none of this would have happened,” he huffs and you swear the kid was pouting a bit.

“He was asking for a lot and I was emotionally not doing well. Plus he’s not a kid like you.”

He stares at you for a solid five seconds, “That means I’m the favorite, correct?”

You hold back a stiff laugh wiping your cheeks dry from the remaining wetness from your earlier emotions. It feels weird all of this even almost laughing like they hadn’t kidnapped you. But you’re feeling all over the place today anyways might as well cut yourself some slack. Jason walks in before you can answer Damian’s question, moving to sit besides you. You grumble and try to scoot away as much as you can with Titus in your lap. Damian gave his older brother a glare for interrupting the two of you.

“It’s good to have you back, little bird.”

“Yeah, ok. Uh,” you freeze up not sure what to say. You and Jason never really bonded too much together plus he always scared you when you were a kid.

“I know it’s awkward, but this is for you’re own good. It’s too dangerous out there for you to be by yourself.”

“Damian you’ll be my favorite if you kick Jason out of the room.”

“What?? I just got here, what did I do?!”

Damian grabs Jason trying to drag him away from you. Jason of course fights back and the two tussle for a bit, ending in Jason sitting on the floor and Damian sitting next to you.

“Eh good enough, thank you Damian.”

“Kid you can’t just sick Damian on us just cause you’re upset.”

Damian huffs, “You’re just jealous they like me more.”

“Shut you,” he looks back to you.

“And you can’t expect me to get over everything so fast, least of all after you kidnapped me, Jason Todd.”

“You were getting robbed, that school was obviously too dangerous for you to stay at.”

“That school was still something important to me! And you took it from me.”

“Tim already transferred your classes to online ones, you’ll still have it,” he sighs his hand running through his hair, “I get not liking Bruce or anyone, I’ve been there, I'm still there. But it will be easier for all of us if you don’t fight with us.”

You huff and look away, it’s easier being angry. To growl and snarl at them. But it’s so tiring too, it makes you feel drained. All you want right now is Jenny and Alfred.

“You let me talk to my best friend and then I’ll ‘relax’ a little…”

Jason stares down at you contemplating if he was actually going to let you talk to her or not. He grumbles out a ‘fine, I’ll see what I can do.’ Before ruffling your hair sitting down on the armrest next to you. You look at him confused expecting him to go now.

“First I’m going to spend time with you first before bringing your friend up to Bruce.”

“You son of a bit-“ you pausing holding back your tongue. The sooner you play into whatever they want the sooner you can see Jenny again. And find out how to escape your crazy family, or hopefully have them get hit with a reality stick, “Fine whatever, but you better do it soon Jason!”

“Of course I will. Now what do you like to watch anyways?” Jason picks up the remote turning on the tv.

“We can always watch animal planet,” Damian chimes up scooting closer to you.

“I uh, I’m fine with whatever just no sports please.”

“Not a sports fan?” Jason chimes up as he searches through the channels.

“No, it’s kinda boring for me.”

You turn a bit seeing Dick walk pass the doorway before stopping to look at you fully. He immediately pouts walking over to the three of you all together on the couch.

“How’s this fair,” he plops himself on the couch between you a Jason, safe to say you’re squished, “I want to spend time with you too.”

“Dick! Get off there’s not enough room on the couch for you,” Damian huffs.

But the eldest just squeezes the both of you in a tight hug. You grumble knowing Tim is probably going to join y’all as well. Speak of him and he appears, Tim pokes his head in and sits in front of the couch on his laptop still to work. It’s going to be a long day today.

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

A/N: hello hi, it’s been a while. Tbh I got burnt out took a step back from writing chapter 4 and then completely forgot about it. But I’m back now and re engerized so here’s the second to last chapter.

Tag list- @cherryblossomfox @feral-childs-word @mindscape123 @halfacupofcoffee @luckeclover @lovermaybabe @pieceartsworld @humanerror-24 @notso-redhairedwitch @purplecowboygarden @galaxypurplerose @pang-stuff @spiderofgotham @leftwonderlandpatrol @lakari01 @red-phantom-0 @ghost3029 @telila96114229-blog @red-phantom-0 @jellystar-star @thelovelymoonlightofthemidnight @yandereforme

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part twelve

I need y'all to know that I'm writing part 18 rn and it's getting GOOD I can't wait this fic is so fun to write and I'm so happy you guys are loving it as much as I'm loving writing it!!! 🤭💞

Warnings: once again they're...getting along? never fear they still argue though, things are...about to get crazy, (i hope we are picking up on the subtle moments of attraction bc they're only going to get worse xoxo)

After three days of straight paperwork — and one annoying HR meeting because someone from a different department must’ve heard you and Hotch arguing and decided to tattle — you’re going insane. You need something else to do besides sit in a chair staring at files all day, listening to Morgan and Reid bicker, and glaring at Hotch every time you catch him looking at you through his office window.

You’ve heard nothing new from the case in Alabama. Radio silence from the unsub. Radio silence from the police. Nothing new from the sketch Lila helped with, too. Nothing at all, with anything.

You’re going stir crazy. 

You need a new case to come in. Given what Strauss told you in that meeting, you expect a new case to come in any minute.

What you do not expect is to come back from lunch on the fourth day to find Strauss in Hotch’s office, or for them to be arguing. With the door open, for god’s sake, so everyone in departments three floors down can hear.

You don’t think before you haul ass up the stairs, especially not after you hear your own name in the midst of their poor attempts to not shout, turning everyone’s heads. Your mind immediately conjures up the worst case scenario: that they’re arguing about your father, about how Strauss let you seal that part of your file, and somehow Hotch found out that she let you, and now it’s all getting blown out of proportion.

You can’t make out the source of their arguing, though, because they’re just shouting nonsense at one another, bordering on insults. 

Jesus, is this what it sounds like to everyone else when you and Hotch argue?

Strauss and Hotch both stop bickering as soon as they spot you hovering in the doorway. You raise your eyebrows at them like a parent catching two siblings in the middle of an unnecessary fight — which isn’t that far off the mark.

“Ma’am,” you nod to Strauss. “Hotch,” you look over at him. “I heard my name. What’s going on?”

Strauss answers, turning toward you, “Richard Monroe has stopped cooperating with the authorities. He’s said he’ll cooperate again, but he wants to speak with you first.”

“No,” Hotch says firmly, one hand planted on his hip, his other hand pointing an accusatory finger in Strauss’s direction, then at you. “There is no reason for Richard to speak with her.”

“Why not?” you ask, trying to keep your tone on the calmer side, at least while Strauss is present. “If it’ll make him cooperate, I’ll talk with him.”

“Thank you,” Strauss says, relieved, before turning to give Hotch a lethal glare. “See? I told you you’re getting worked up over nothing, Aaron.”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, whether to assure yourself or Hotch, you have no idea. “It’s one conversation. It’s not like I haven’t spoken to him bef—”

“It’s not just one conversation,” Hotch fumes.

“Stop acting like I can’t handle this job,” you argue.

Hotch almost looks offended. “That’s not what I’m—” 

“I don’t care what it is,” Strauss shouts over the both of you. “Agent, you’ll speak with Richard tomorrow. I’ve already scheduled it, and I’ll forward you the details. Hotch, I’ll let them know you’ll be attending as well.”

“Excuse me?” Hotch says.

“What?” you blurt at the same time. “I don’t need him to come with me.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to go alone, and frankly, Aaron, if it bothers you so badly, you should go with her, as Unit Chief,” Strauss says, her phone ringing in her pocket halfway through her sentence. “I’m late for a meeting. This is settled. Understood?”

Hotch looks like he’d rather put his own foot up his ass until he tastes the sole of his shoe. “Understood.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nod, stepping aside to let Strauss leave. “Thank you.”

You don’t bother waiting for Hotch to speak before inviting yourself into his office all the way. It takes everything in you not to slam the door behind Strauss. He yanks the blinds closed with just as much anger, chest practically heaving. You’re surprised he didn’t rip them off the wall with the force.

“What the hell was that?” you hiss. These walls, no matter how much you wish they were, aren’t soundproof, and by now you’ve probably attracted the attention of the entire goddamn floor, let alone your nosy teammates who are returning from lunch.

“I might ask you the same thing,” Hotch fires back, rounding his desk. You know what he’s doing, trying to tower over you and intimidate you. It won’t work, not with you. He should know that by now. “Did you know about this?”

“About Richard Monroe being a manipulative piece of shit? Of course I’ve known— I’m not a fucking idiot, Hotch.”

“I never said you were! Stop putting words in my—” he curses, pinching the bridge of his nose before resting his hand on his hip. “I don’t want you speaking to him.”

“Why?”

“Do I need to remind you what happened in that interrogation room?” Hotch says, voice surprisingly calm for how angry you remember him being that day. “He recognized you and you won’t tell me why—”

“Because I don’t know why,” you shoot back. It’s the honest truth, even if there’s pieces of information you could share. But you don’t want to; you’re not ready. “And I don’t know why you don’t trust me, but it’s grating on my nerves, Hotch. You say I’m a valuable asset to this team, yet you’re acting like I’m not capable of speaking to an unsub that I've spoken to before — for an hour.”

His chest is heaving, but he doesn’t say a damn thing. He just keeps standing there, looking down at you, clenching his jaw.

“I’m going to speak with Richard Monroe tomorrow,” you say, standing nearly toe-to-toe with Hotch. “Whether or not you join me is entirely up to you. But if you’re just going to act like this, then,” you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head. “Don’t bother coming. I’ll get someone else to go with me. You can call out sick for all I fucking care.”

You storm out of his office then, slamming the door behind you so hard you’d be surprised if the window didn’t rattle.

You jump when you realize Rossi is standing in his office doorway, watching you.

“What?” you snap. You don’t mean to take the frustration out on him too, but it’s hard not to when he’s lurking like that. 

Rossi raises his eyebrows, backing into his office without another word. 

You can’t deal with this right now.

Hotch’s door opens behind you and you spin around, freezing when you’re face to face with him. His expression is as unreadable as it always is, but you know he’s pissed at you.

“I’m going home to rest up before tomorrow,” you say, making sure your tone conveys it not as a request but a statement of fact. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Hotch nods once and that’s good enough for you, so you turn and head for your desk, gathering your things.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say, flashing a tight smile to the rest of the team. “Bye.”

“Um…bye…?” Reid looks around to be sure everyone is as confused as he is. They are, but they all shrug, letting you leave.

Up the stairs, Hotch watches you go, knuckles white from where he’s gripping the railing. He shouldn’t have let you go so easily, but you both need to cool down, and if you’re really going to do this tomorrow, you need your rest. 

From beside him, Rossi pointedly clears his throat.

Hotch turns his head, following Rossi’s silent request to follow him into his office. He pushes the door closed behind him.

Hotch starts to pace, then stops in the middle of the room, lifting his arm and dropping it in a what the hell gesture. “She’s going to speak with Richard Monroe tomorrow.”

“I heard,” Dave smirks. “And you’re going with her?”

“I have no choice, do I?” Aaron replies, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll have to tell her tomorrow. If he says anything else about recognizing her—”

“Are you sure he wasn’t saying that just to get a rise out of her? She’s a new agent, she’s attractive—” Rossi cuts himself off when he sees Hotch’s glare. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes,” Hotch says. “I know.”

“She doesn’t know him, Aaron,” Dave says. “How would she? He’s a serial killer who’s been on the run—”

“He knows things about her childhood, Dave,” Hotch cries. “If he knows about the kidnapping, and her father, then who knows what else he’s heard— who knows what he’ll do—”

“Aaron,” Rossi shakes his head. “I know you want to help her, but you can’t protect her, and she can take care of herself.”

“I know she can,” Hotch says, dropping his hand in defeat. “I know.” You’ve been taking care of everything ever since he first met you. He knows you’re more than capable.

He just doesn’t want to find out what happens when you face something you can’t handle alone — and if he’s the one who lets you go at this alone, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He can’t shake the gut feeling that you’re in way over your head and you don’t realize it. Because you don’t even know what you’re dealing with.

+++

You hardly sleep at all, so you’re in a piss poor mood the next morning, and you blame Hotch for it. Naturally.

So, of course, it also irritates the fuck out of you when you arrive at the office and there’s a coffee waiting on your desk. And an apologetic looking Unit Chief standing next to it, identical coffee cup in hand.

You toss your purse down in your chair, glaring at Hotch. “Are you in a better mood today?”

“Peace offering?” he says instead, gesturing to the coffee on your desk.

“Did you poison it?”

He stares at you tiredly.

You pick it up, keeping your eyes on him as you inhale the steam still rising from the hole in the lid. “What is it?”

“Your favorite,” he replies. “Thought it might make the drive easier.”

“Oh?” You smirk. “Am I driving?”

“No,” he scoffs — which oddly almost sounds like a laugh.

You snicker, bringing the cup to your lips. You don’t miss the way Hotch’s eyes follow the motion, or the way they get stuck on your lips before he averts them, like he senses he’s been caught.

It takes everything in you not to call him out on it. You settle for tasting your coffee and letting out a noise of surprise.

“What?” Hotch asks. “Is it wrong?”

“No, it’s good,” you reply quickly. “It’s right. Thanks.”

He nods once. “Good. Um, I’ll be in my office. We’ll leave in about an hour.”

“Sounds good to me,” you nod, raising your cup in cheers. “See you in a bit.”

Hotch heads up to his office without another word, leaving you with a whole world of confusion. 

He’s buying you coffee now? Seriously?

Thank god no one else was here to witness that. You’d never live that one down if Morgan heard all of it.

You shove your purse aside and sit down, putting your head in your hands. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, continuing the long process of mentally preparing for speaking with Richard Monroe today.

“Long night?” 

You raise your head to glare at Morgan, but it holds no real heat. You’re too tired and you’re not even mad at him. “Don’t even get me started.”

His mouth forms an ‘o’ as inhales sharply. “That bad, huh?” He drops his bag next to his desk, instead coming over to prop himself on the edge of yours. “Talk to me.”

“Morgan,” you sigh, dropping your head back into your hands. “Not today, seriously.”

“What’s happening today?” he asks. “You never did say why you left so suddenly yesterday.”

You lift your head and glance toward Hotch’s office, slightly relieved to find his door closed and his head turned down toward paperwork on his desk. When you look back at Derek, he does the most not-subtle look over his shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you.

“No.”

You lean back, eyebrows furrowed. “No what?”

Morgan starts to grin. “You two finally get your shit together?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I see how it is,” Morgan chuckles, lightly tapping your shoulder. “Come on, tell me. Who made the first move?”

“Get off of my desk,” you say through gritted teeth, shoving his leg. “Nothing happened. I have to go speak to Richard Monroe today and Hotch is coming with—”

“What?” Morgan asks, incredulous. “Richard Monroe? Why him?”

“Because he’s not cooperating with the investigation anymore but says he will if he speaks to me first,” you explain like it’s nothing — because it is. “Strauss told me about it a couple weeks ago.”

“No,” Morgan shakes his head. “I don’t like the idea of this.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your coffee. “Now you sound just like Hotch.”

“Good,” Morgan slides off your desk, shrugging. “‘Cause this doesn’t sound like a good idea. You had a panic attack after talking to him.”

You shake your head. “That’s not—”

“I know what those look like,” Morgan argues. “Whether or not that’s what you call them, that’s what they are.”

“Leave it alone,” you warn.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright. Just— You know the drill. Call me if you need me. And try not to kill him,” he adds with a quick glance up to Hotch’s office.

“No promises,” you reply, tipping your coffee back.

+++

When Hotch comes down to the bullpen an hour later, you notice everyone’s eyes zeroing in on his coffee, then yours, taking note of the matching cups. Prentiss is first to raise her eyebrows at you. You give her a look that just says don’t. She says nothing, but her smirk tells you she’ll be messaging the group chat about it later.

“Ready?” Hotch asks.

“Yep,” you nod, grabbing your purse and standing. You offer a mock salute to the rest of your team. “See you on the other side.”

Morgan laughs, shaking his head at you. “Try not to kill each other. Please.”

You and Hotch roll your eyes at the same time, freezing when you catch the other doing it.

It takes a surprising amount of effort on your part to not smile.

You swipe your coffee off your desk, downing the last remaining drops as the two of you walk toward the exit. “Thanks for this again, by the way,” you say quietly, tossing your empty cup in the trash can in the hall. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not a problem,” he replies, tossing his as well while you hit the down arrow on the elevator.

The silence blankets you both inside the elevator as you stand as far apart as possible. Like you both know you need to cherish your personal space before you’re stuck in a car together for three straight hours — one way.

Since Hotch is driving, you head toward where you know his car will be in the parking deck. The spaces aren’t even assigned; he’s just a creature of habit. You, on the other hand, hardly ever park in the same spot. Hotch has always wondered why.

“If this radio turns on and starts playing some classical music bullshit, I’m going to be so disappointed in you, Hotchner,” you tease as you buckle yourself in.

Hotch says nothing as he turns the key in the ignition. A second later, The Beatles’s white album fills the car. Namely, the song “I Will”.

“Seriously?” you grin. “The white album?”

“What’s wrong with it?” he asks, immediately on the defensive.

“Nothing,” you hum, looking out the window. “I’m partial to Abbey Road.”

“Of course you would be.”

Your head whips toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s smiling. 

You narrow your eyes before turning your head, biting back your own smile for the second time this morning.

Maybe you are warming up to each other — slightly — or maybe it means nothing. 

Whatever it is, you don’t have time to think about it today. You have a serial killer who wants to speak with you, who somehow knows who you are despite you having never met him before, and the only explanation must have something to do with your father — who Hotch still knows nothing about.

[cas-kingdom]

For the sentence prompts! Hope you are doing well Cas💜!

Begging for forgiveness was the only option at this point

A/N: Used the sentence at the end instead!

When Mark burst into the chief’s office, you had your top half hanging off the sofa, a lollipop in your mouth. You stared at him upside-down for about five seconds while you waited for him to speak.

“Mark Sloan is having a baby,” he finally announced, a very slight edge to his voice.

You blinked, then heaved yourself up and turned towards him.

“Y/N says congrats,” you said, your words garbled around the sweet in your mouth.

Mark reacted immediately. He shut the door and pointed an accusatory finger straight at you. “Don’t play coy with me. I know it was you.”

"Me?"

"You started the godawful rumour suddenly floating around the hospital!"

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” With expert skill and practice, you sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. When Mark’s glare intensified, because you absolutely had an idea of what he was talking about, a corner of your lips quirked upwards and you pulled the lollipop from your mouth. “Maybe you should go back to your baby mama.”

Mark chuckled dangerously and rubbed his hands together. “Y/N, sweetheart. Peanut. Little worm. You’re dead.”

He made a move, lurching towards you, and you stood on the couch, brandishing the lollipop like a weapon. “Hey. Hey! Now you know what it feels like!”

“What what feels like?”

“It’s your own fault for making it so believable!”

“What what feels like, Y/N?”

“To have your life ruined!”

Mark scoffed. “This is because I put dye in your shampoo? Temporary dye, Y/N, it was temporary dye!”

“My hair was green for a week!”

“Everyone said it suited you!”

“Because you told everyone it was my choice!” You narrowed your eyes at him as he put his hands on his hips. “I’m not sorry. I’m never gonna be sorry. You’re a dad now, congratulations. Hope you’re a better father than you are a fake uncle.”

The surgeon’s jaw dropped. “Okay, now, that one hurt.”

“Not as much as your penis hurt when your baby mama broke it for getting her pregnant.”

Mark's eyes widened. He’d thought the pregnancy rumour was enough—God knew he’d had his fill of those—but there was more? Really, he should have expected it. This was Y/N Shepherd he was talking about. The only person who could one up him.

Suddenly forgetting his quest for revenge, Mark thrust his face in his palms and slumped down on a chair by the desk. “Anything else I need to know about?” he mumbled, wincing in anticipation of the answer.

Before you could smugly offer one, the door opened once again to reveal Richard. His eyes quickly roved the room before landing on Mark. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why am I being told you’re taking extended paternity leave when the twins have barely been conceived?" There was a brief silence before: "Congratulations, by the way.”

You snorted.

Mark groaned.

Richard rose a brow. “Or…commiserations?”

Mark turned wide, befuddled eyes on him. "Webber, you think it’s true?”

Richard, perplexed, glanced between you and Mark. “It’s not?”

“No!”

Richard shrugged. “Congratulations, then.” He left the room only to pop his head back in a second later. “So, your…”

“Is all in working order!”

“Right. Bye.”

Mark turned to look at you, a gleam in his eye that you recognised all too well. You bit your bottom lip, still standing on the couch. “I told you it’s your own fault for making it so believable.”

He stared. Hard. Then, in about a second, he vaulted himself towards you. You clumsily leapt over the back of the couch with a squeal, falling to the floor with a thud but not caring in the slightest as you scrambled to make your escape.

“You wanna tell me who I’m having these twins with?” Mark asked, making a wild grab for you and snagging the hood of your sweater.

“A cafeteria lady! You thought her buns were top notch!”

Begging for forgiveness was the only option at this point.

Grey’s Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

[rivalswrites]

Could I please get some poly mister fantastic x reader x invisible woman?

Take-out Trap

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Based this off of one of the headcanons I made in this post.

Masterlist

Times were stressful, the weight of the multiverse was on everyone's shoulders and some people just couldn't catch a break. One of those people being one of your lovely partners, Reed Richards- aka Mister Fantastic. An incredibly genius man that's too much of an over-thinker.

Susan and you had talked together in private, making suggestions on how to get your partner to take a break and relax. Because he definitely needed it. It was clear to everyone around, especially people as close as you were, he was tired and needed a break. Many ideas were brought up, but none of them seemed good enough to either of you, Reed deserves the best right now.

And then, it came to Susan like a bolt of lightning. What better excuse to get Reed away from his work than the promise of a really quick meal. Except it wasn't going to be a quick meal, but he didn't need to know that. With the perfect plan in place, the two of you went to work in secrecy.

It started with you entering the laboratory, looking around before spotting Reed stretched all over the place.

With a clear of your throat you said “Reed, sweetheart?”. Walking over to his desk and leaning at the opposite side, you patiently waited for his response. He didn't even look towards you when he let out a “hm?” and continued his work.

Oh well, it was a response, “Sue and I are getting takeout, we'd love for you to join us” and before he could reject you added “it'll be so quick, we just miss you.” With the biggest pout on your face, he agreed.

“Sure, I'll see you two lovely’s later for that”, and he went back to work.

Step one; complete.

Next step? Actually setting it all up. Susan was in charge of ordering the takeout, she knew all the best underground spots and memorized what all of you like anyways. So while she was out doing that, you took on step three, setting up the living room to become the ultimate trap.

The couch footrests were pulled out for maximum comfort. Spare pillows and blankets were taken from the closets and thrown onto the couch to be sorted out later. The lights were dimmed and the TV was set to a very special show. And then you regret not setting the pillows and blankets up properly earlier and suffered through sorting them all from the giant ball you'd put them in and organized it all to where everyone would have the best cushioning.

Sue came back not long after you had finished with two bags of takeout in her hands, smiling at you as she raised them up to show off. Damn it smelled good.

And now, the final step, actually trapping Reed.

Susan is in charge of luring him out, having known him longer than you have by just a bit. While she was in the laboratory with Reed you took the time to get the takeout boxes and put them on the coffee table, with forks and cups for drinks.

When Susan came into the living room with Reed in tow, hand in hand of course, you were sitting on one of the arms of the couch, waiting. Quickly you got up and walked over, giving Reed a hug before leading him to the couch with Susan. He was sat in-between the two of you, basically being pushed down onto the couch before being covered in blankets. You and Susan wrapped your arms around him, wrapped up in your own blankets.

“I should really be working…” Reed muttered to himself, but who was he kidding? His wonderful partners are spoiling him rotten right now, he can't tell either of them no. So instead he let go and melted.

After food was placed on his lap and you had poured him a seltzer, Susan reached for the remote and pressed play on the TV.

It took him a second, but when the introduction played Reed immediately knew what it was. “Stop it, is this the Bachelor? You guys are spoiling me…”

[helpwhatsthis]

Keeping Your Heart Safe?

Part One of Lost In The Fire- J.S. X Reader

Looking for another chapter? Check out the series navigation!

Chapter Summary: Johnny doesn't like crowds, which can be difficult at parties. His anxiety at his birthday party is only worsened by what his life may become after the space launch project.

Warnings: lowkey it’s kind of a Johnny Storm character study (that will eventually lead to smut), reader has regenerative healing, angst, mentions of Johnny and Sue's parents death, these little shits are angsty asf dude idk

It's safe to say that most people probably would have given up under your circumstances already. You'd spent your entire life into your twenties looking for another person like you. Day and night, hours upon hours, leaving people behind and putting yourself (and sometimes others) in harms way for the slim chance that you might find another one. A mutant. Maybe that's just your luck? Some cruel joke played on you by the universe that you would be the only person among billions with... well, with what? Superpowers? Inhumane abilities? Yeah, that figures.

That's how Reed found you though, and you were thankful for that at least. Of course the always intuitive Reed Richards would notice the one person that just seemed a little too interested in the exhibit on genetic mutations at the science expo; and for every bit of intuition Reed has, his kindness and determination always seem to match it. Did he really need to pull you out of the crowd and confirm what exactly was different about you? No. Did he need to hire you on as his assistant just so that he could keep and eye on you? Again, no. Most of all, Reed definitely didn't need to move you off of the streets and into the Baxter building or try to start integrating you into his little family; but he did because that's just the kind of person he is.

Did you really need to grit your teeth and act annoyed the whole way through it even though you were fully aware that Reed may have saved your life in the process? No, but that's just the kind of person you are. Mostly because you've never really felt stable since the incident, you might just need to leave one day and it would be a whole lot easier if you didn't let yourself pretend like you were one of them. Like you were normal.

You'd like to think you were doing a pretty good job too, if it weren't for Johnny of course. Sickeningly Sweet and enragingly gentle Johnny. Not one little bit scared pf what you can do and definitely not eager to point out your differences or mistakes. It's amazing really, how he can be so indifferent about all of it. When Ben had told him that you were something akin to superhuman, he acted as if he'd been told something as mundane as your eye color.

"Correct me of I'm wrong, but isn't the birthday boy supposed to actually attend his own party?" You him, leaning against the door frame of the terrace. Johnny's head snaps around in surprise that he's been caught. He's been expecting his sister to come and find him for that past forty-five minutes and try to convince him to come back to the party; but he grins when he sees your own soft smile and eyebrows raised in question.

"Well shouldn’t the assistant be making sure that nothing goes horribly wrong at said party?” He laughs as you make your way to the edge of the balcony, sitting down carefully beside him. His hand immediately finds your shoulder when he sees you shiver at the sight below you, he doesn’t know the exact reason but he does know that you’re not a huge fan of heights. He supposes it’s got something to do with bad memories like most things you don’t like; which is, well… most things.

“I’d say the guest of honor disappearing is pretty wrong.” He smiles at your attempt to keep up the banter, but your eyes haven’t left the lights of the city beneath your feet. You look nervous and Johnny hates that. Finally, you gulp and pull your eyes up to him. “So why exactly are you out here?”

“You know how I feel about crowds…” He shrugs, trying to play it off like this is any normal event; but it’s different tonight. He’s different tonight.

“We start prepping for the space launch tomorrow.” He sighs, shoulders sinking in more. His words cause more confusion than clarity. Sure, Johnny was always shy and nervous. He’s better alone than in a crowd and he’s defiantly better with silence than small talk, but this wasn’t like him at all. He loved things like this. Johnny Storm is the epitome of an adrenaline junkie disguised as a puppy.

“Yeah… and that’s cool right? You get to go to space!” You force a smile, trying to lean forward into his line of view. “I mean even though your brother-in-law is a genius this still seems like a once in a lifetime opput-”

“I think Reed and Sue are going to try to have a baby when the project is over.” 

Oh?

“I know it’s unfair and I know I should be happy; I mean I’m going to be an uncle and that’s amazing…” He trails off, trying to blink the welling tears out of his eyes. “-but everything is going to be different after that. No more messing around in the lab in the middle of the night. No more dangerous experiments. Even Ben is starting to spend more time with that girl Alicia-” His voice cracks, head dropping as the dame breaks. “Life has always been the same since mom and dad died, it’s always been me and my sister and her husband and his best friend. I wanna be happy for them but I’m just scared because my family is changing again. ”

“Jesus, Johnny.” You sigh, pulling his body into a hug. It’s strange, you can’t remember the last time you were this careless in your closeness with someone but it just feels so good when he curls his body into you. It feels so good that Johnny feel safe with you. “It’s gonna be okay, J.” You promise, rubbing his back softly. “You’ve got the best big sister in the whole world. Things are going to be different but it’s not like you’re lives are just going to stop if they have a baby. You’ll still be just as important to your family even if there are a few new members.” You smile when he laughs a little.

He peaks his head out of its hiding place in your chest. “You know their your family too, right?” He asks softly. A sudden abundance of heat fills your chest.  You both sit in silence, just taking one another in with sad smiles on your faces. His hands start to inch up, slowly moving towards your jaw. It would be so easy to just lean into him-

“There you guys are!” Your head snaps to the doorway. “Come on, guys. Sue is gonna rip me a new one if you aren’t there for cake, man.” Ben laughs, eyeing you both with a stupid smirk on his face. 

Reluctantly, you follow him back into the penthouse. It’s a good thing too, you think. You can’t stop cursing yourself the rest of the night for how utterly stupid you almost were, even when Johnny’s eyes don’t leave you as he blows out the flames of his candles.

What to be added to my taglist? Send me a message!

[missglaskin]

Yandere S.T.A.R.S Team (Resident Evil) platonic headcanons

Note- I am back (It's been years), this has been in my drafts so I said fuck it/this is so messy and the timeline/canon may not be accurate but enjoy! This is mainly platonic, but w/some characters it could be interpreted romantically

Characters; Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, Barry Burton, Joseph Forest, Brad Vickers, Forest Speyer, Richard Aiken, Enrico Marini, Kenneth Sullivan, Edward Dewey

The first person you perhaps meet is Albert; he is the leader of the S.T.A.R.S Team. Not only do all the recruiters get approved by him, but he also overlooks all your tests. He greets you like any other, but gradually something takes a hold of him. He's in denial at first, even seeming harsh. You may initially believe he didn't like you; oblivious to the countless files and cameras hidden everywhere.

Having the rest of the team be just as enamored was not on the table. You are immediately welcomed by the team and Rebecca is the first to befriend you since you two are the youngest of the team. Like how Richard was tasked with watching over Rebecca, he’s tasked with the same responsibility over you (even if Wesker preferred to do it himself).

Chris can't help but grow quickly fond of you. He positions himself in the role of your protector; feeling the utmost responsibility for your happiness and safety. So if you have any problems - whether it's with Chief Irons or getting in trouble for say, breaking a rule; trust he'll be quick to intervene and 'save' the day.

You're all Chris ever talks about to Claire and before long, the two of you cross paths. Claire, like her brother assumes herself in the role of being your friend right away. She occasionally pays you visits and you can be sure that you will receive calls from times when she's unable to visit. Claire expects Chris to keep her informed of you at all times.

Barry, Enrico, and Kenneth all take fatherly roles; they look at you and already placed adopted papers on the table ready for you to sign. It makes it all the harder for Wesker to have any absolute control as they all put their foot down.

Barry adores you and it’s not taken lightly when it’s said he treats you as his child, probably cause he views you as actually one of his own. He invites you to a family dinner, introducing you to his family who all naturally take a liking to you. Barry insists on his house always being open if you need a place to stay or run into trouble. 

Since Barry sees you as his own, there is a never-end to his dad jokes. Even when you comment on how terrible it is, he likes seeing the smile on your face. Trust you'll be invited to every birthday, barbecue, or any family Burton event.

Enrico while he adopted a fatherly role, he was a bit reluctant to get so attached to you. He’s the few in the team who's fully aware and doesn't hesitate to call out the others when he thinks they are going too far. He worries a lot about your safety, and most times it's Enrico who comes out on top of arguments on who gets to drive you home. 

Kenneth as the oldest of the team, feels the most responsible for you. He is aware just like Enrico and doesn't wish for you to be scared of him or the team. He wants you to come to him whenever you need anything, even for small tasks such as finding a specific file. Like Enrico, Kenneth has no problem telling the others to back off if you need space.

More trouble comes along when Forest and Joseph come along. They develop their tendencies the quickest and tend to be the most clingy out of the team. They (along with Chris) become your partners in crime.

Joseph is someone you can always count on to make you smile even in the most serious of situations; he doesn’t care when others lecture him for it. You're not safe from his teasing. Granted you're not the target of his pranks but he likes to poke fun at you from time to time. It's why no alarms are ringing in your head when he says something questionable, assuming he’s just being Joseph.

You're not safe from Forest's playful teasings either. He can be a little annoying, poking your cheek or trying to tickle you when wanting your attention. Like Joseph, he's very affectionate, putting his arm around your shoulder and resting his head on your lap if you allow it. The others lecture him for doing it so publicly but Joseph knows it's jealousy talking more than anything.

As said, a squad of its own is formed; Chris, Joseph, Forest, and you. While they tend to be jealous, the three are okay with sharing when it comes to each other. Forest and Chris enjoy competing in shoot training and showing off who can do it better, inviting you to place bets. They're happy to show you all the gun's tricks and let you choose your weapon's signature.

Joseph, being a mechanic, can't always spend as much time with you. But he'll eagerly drag you into teaching you the ropes, whisking you away from the other two. He beams with pride when you grasp something from his impromptu lessons. Even if he's not exactly teaching you anything, he's happy to chat about anything as he works. 

Jill becomes someone you’re close to, someone whom Chris and Barry trust to leave you alone with. She’s not afraid to whisk you away from the others when she wants to and won’t hesitate to call out anyone selfishly taking your time (Uhm Joseph). 

Most of all, Jill loves having girl time with you. She's there for any fashion advice, gladly taking you shopping to revamp your wardrobe. If you're unsure how to do your makeup, she's eager to help, though Jill never wants to teach you so you can keep coming to her.

Jill is also willing to use any excuse to have you stay over at her place anytime even suggesting sharing an apartment to ‘save money”. And if you think Wesker’s the only one with a bunch of files, Jill has a hidden drawer filled with everything she has on you. 

Brad becomes incredibly attached but is a bit shy about approaching you. He'll do little things to make your day better, like bringing your favorite coffee (watching you do it too many times) or organizing your desk just the way you like it.

Brad tries to agree with everything you do, supporting any ideas you bring forth in, team meetings and hesitates to snitch on you, always trying to talk to you first to prevent trouble (aka punishments). Similar to Kenneth, he's aware of his tendencies and doesn't want you to fear him.

Richard is the softest guy on the team as said, was tasked with watching over you and quickly grew fond of you, He has made it well known that if you ever need help you can seek him out even when you get in trouble, he’ll gladly keep it hidden from the others to avoid you being in trouble even taking the brunt of it.

If you find yourself spending time with Richard, trust that Rebecca is there, too, being the sweetest in the group as well. Initially, she might not fully grasp her tendencies, but once she does, her sole concern is your safety and happiness. She frowns upon hearing Jill and Chris discussing ways to keep you confined and is the one who tries to reassure the others not to be too 'harsh' on you.

Edward may appear intimidating, but he's actually a softie at heart. While he might not warm up to you as quickly as Forest and Joseph did, given some time, he grows fond of you and eventually places him as your trusted friend. He's aware that his demeanor can be intimidating and desires nothing more than for you to feel comfortable opening up to him, always offering a smile whenever he sees you around the RPD.

----------------------------------------------

Chief Irons has learned that you're the one person he can't even dare to go near. You might be a troublemaker, breaking every rule in the book, but Albert will put his foot down to ensure nothing comes of it. It's enough that the rest of the team has a dislike towards Irons, and he, along with everyone in the RPD, knows that crossing you means crossing the Stars team.

Wesker also keeps the extent of his monitoring and knowledge of you a closely guarded secret. He's aware that Kenneth, Enrico, Richie, Edward, and Barry all vocally dislike the idea of 'stalking' you in such ways (they all do but try to keep it as ‘morally right’). In his grand plan, he hopes to lure you away, but he must do it in a way that won't raise suspicion.

You have the most protective people watching over you. Even a simple accident like someone spilling a cup on you puts everyone on high alert.

Your favoritism doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the RPD, sparking rumors around the station that Edward and Barry quickly shut down whenever they hear someone bad-mouthing you.

Chris and Forest, on the other hand, can be incredibly impulsive, leading to all sorts of issues that Wesker and Enrico have to deal with. Jill and Joseph even got in trouble once for punching someone.

That means going on no dangerous missions; the one thing they all agree on. Wesker ensures that all your missions are carefully managed, eliminating any risks of you being in danger, and he pretends not to know what you mean if you ask. The other members are willing to gaslight you, suggesting that you just happen to get the easy ones, even Rebecca and Brad.

They're all eager to fight each other to train you, each claiming they're better at teaching you self-defense. Chris and Forest are the ones who usually end up teaching you since they're often the first ones to arrive. But everyone knows that if Wesker insists on training you, they can't object. And it's probably for the best, as some (Uhm Richard, and Edward) will pretend to lose or go easy on you because they don't want to "hurt" you.

The team normally doesn’t go out, but they all want to spend time with you. Usually, all of you go to diners (except for Wesker, wonder why). There's a little argument over who should order you to prove who knows you the best.

Your seat is chosen to please everyone, sometimes between Jill and Chris, other times between Richard and Rebecca. Another silent argument happens when they debate on who should pay for you; Enrico succeeds by slipping the payment to the waiter when the others aren’t looking.

Everyone always makes sure you come home safe. You expect numerous calls from everyone checking up on you. They all secretly know you're fine, as they're in cahoots with each other, but they just want to hear your voice.

There's also a chance that if Richard, Forest, or Jill are the ones bringing you home, they'll make some excuse about needing to stay overnight because they're tired or the weather is bad.

 If you need someone to drive you to the station or pick you up, perhaps because you can’t drive, they're all willing to fight each other once again to do so. They've left important meetings or appointments countless times just to rush to your aid. It's almost always Wesker, Richard, Enrico (and sometimes Chris) who beat the others in picking you up.

Once again, you're always taken to events that the teammates have. Brad is getting takeout, he's on his way to pick you up since he assumes you're also hungry. Forest wants to go out for a drink, prepare for him to be at your door, and when you attend together, he’s protecting your drink with his life and will even pretend to be your boyfriend. Barry has a baseball game he wants to attend, so why not come with him and his family. 

Jill needs to pick up a new outfit or something in the way, she decides to take you as well. Rebecca comes along, and sometimes the three of you have spa days in the process. Rebecca also loves going on road trips with you; there needs to be a person or two with you to ensure nothing bad happens. Rebecca once brought you to her favorite team's basketball game and the two of you shared those nachos and fries. It was Rebecca's happiest memory.

Movie nights are a must. Brad and Edward agree with anything you wish to watch, while Jill and Joseph are fighting over which ones to watch. Chris and Forest are trying to get your attention more than actually watching a movie. Meanwhile, Rebecca is actually enjoying the movie and wants to talk to you about it later on. She and Richard ensure you have your popcorn, and Richard brings your favorite bakery treats.

Expect to be always praised when you're around the team. Wesker himself praises you for a job well done whenever you find a clue or bring him the right file. Richard, Edward, and Rebecca are the most vocal. Also expect Chris and Barry to give you a pat on the back, while Forest and Joseph jokingly pat your head.

Wesker has you as his right-hand assistant, even when it’s not officially confirmed as such. You're tasked to help and stay by him whenever he needs assistance. He pretends not to see everyone side-eyeing him when he places your desk right next to his, but then again, they all ignore his stare when they come to your desk for whatever excuse they need.

The best people to comfort you are Barry, Enrico, Kenneth, and Richard. These men hate seeing you in tears. Brad will try to make you laugh while hugging you, while also finding the right words to comfort you. You can lie to Enrico, and he'll still know; he's memorized your body language, pulling you into an immediate hug before the tears even come. 

Kenneth's ability to comfort shines in giving the best advice and solving any issues you have. Richard will sit next to you and listen; it could be the middle of the night, and he'll gladly answer any call or stay up to do any activities that will cheer you up.

Something everyone has huge arguments about is punishments; it gets heated at times. These discussions are, of course, not done in your presence.

Wesker is open to punishments, Chris and Jill agree with precautions, and Barry may reluctantly agree but claim he wants nothing to do with it. Brad and Rebecca voice their disagreement but can’t really intervene. Edward and Richie, like Barry, say they want nothing to do with it. Forest and Joseph don’t like it but will let the others make the decisions. Enrico and Kenneth are the most vocal against such decisions.

-------------------------------------------

Everything is going well in the team until the mansion incident.

You had to be with the Alpha team, unaware of the fate that fell upon the Bravo team, as there was no way Wesker would have let you out of his sight.

You had to witness Joseph get mauled by the zombie dogs, and if it weren’t for Wesker shooting the one coming at you and Chris pulling you along, you may have been a victim of it. Getting into the mansion has them immediately checking for injuries, only to realize you are just shaken up.

If you try to suggest coming along with Chris to check on what’s happening, Wesker immediately disapproves, even pulling rank to have you stay by him, and Jill agrees. Chris assures you he'll be just fine.

Things happen and it may lead you to be separated from Wesker and Jill. It makes all of them panic and look for you. Chris is nervous but assumes you must be with either Wesker or Jill. Jill and Wesker are trying to remain calm as they search. There is a chance you will meet Rebecca, who informs you of Edward's death, and this leads to you reuniting with Chris. 

Alternatively, you may come across Barry, who refuses to leave your side, leading you to reunite with Jill. Both scenarios will have you meeting Richard, who immediately embraces you upon seeing you safe. You may also encounter Enrico, who seems hesitant to inform you of who he believes is responsible for the situation.

Forbid you get injured at any moment in the mansion, everyone will be in panic. Barry will try to reassure you, holding your wound while Jill rushes to get any herbs. Or Rebecca will try to tend to you while Chris silently panics in the background, refusing to leave your side. Richard will insist you stay in a room for your safety while he tries to find Rebecca or first aid. Enrico tries to remain calm, bringing you along with him as he rids the area of any zombies, fearing the risk of leaving you alone.

Soon enough, you will find out about Wesker's involvement, and his first act is to keep you as a hostage, even knocking you out. He’s merely bluffing but needs to keep the others away. If he encounters Enrico, he is well aware the man knows he’s a traitor and will kill him in front of you. After all, you will know the truth either way.

It all ends with Wesker believed to be 'dead,' killed by the tyrant, and the mansion about to blow up. You and everyone mourn all those who you have lost, and you are surrounded by the remaining survivors as they try to comfort you and tend to any injuries you may have gained. 

You are too lost in your grief and all you have experienced that you don’t realize the eyes all watching you, as they all make a silent vow to themselves to forever keep you safe. And most of all, you don’t know that Wesker has been reborn, getting out of the mansion as he plots his revenge.

@aphroditelovesu @yanderes-galore @gwynsly @tiddlybops

[deadhands69]

Villain Radio

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader League of Villains Band & Roommate AU (quirkless)

Gimme Shelter you respond to a 'roommate wanted' ad, leading you to an off-kilter house full of familiar (and new!) faces **note to the taglist: if you're on the bnha//shigaraki taglists and were added to this and you'd like to be taken off, please let me know! this one is ongoing for a while, sometimes has two smaller parts shared per day, and will be a lot of notifications if it's not what you're here for.**

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Earlier this morning, you responded to an ad from a house looking for a roommate. They replied almost immediately. 

Which brings you here an hour later, to a different part of town than usual.

Passing through the neighborhood, it seems nice enough. Nothing spectacular, but you really just need a place to live. You could see yourself getting comfortable here. 

There’s a corner market a block away from your destination and a series of relatively simple houses following. You pull up in front of one that seems a little off kilter. You can't quite put your finger on what it is that's off, but there's something. Double checking the address, looks like you’re here.

It’s seated between a grey house with white trim on the right and pale yellow house with a massive fence on the left. You can tell it was painted white, at some point, but the paint has chipped so much that it’s mostly wood. There’s a huge awning over the front porch, someone appears to be passed out on top of it.

Off to an interesting start.

You approach the door, which is wide open. There’s a handwritten sign hanging from a nail that says “this is keith’s house we just live in it.” Keith isn't who you've been talking to. You're definitely at the correct address though, you double checked. Just as you’re about to knock on the doorframe, a magenta haired man comes around the corner.

“Hey, you y/n?” he asks, he looks familiar. Really familiar, but you can’t quite place it. 

“Yeah,” you answer, “are you Spinner?”

“That is me,” he turns and waves you in. “Thanks for coming by on such short notice, I really appreciate it. I’ll show you the room and if you like it, I can show you the rest of the house too.” You follow him up the stairs, wondering what’s not to like about a bedroom.

Two doors down and to the right, he pushes open the door. It’s small, but cute. And bigger than the space you currently have. The single window faces out into a tree which isn’t the worst view in the world. All of that plus the cheap rent, you’re sold.

“Yeah, this is great,” you say, seeing how much space the closet has. “It’ll be perfect for me. Can I see the rest of the house too?”

“Definitely!” He's a lot more chipper now that he can see you’re really interested in moving in. “Bathroom,” he says as you pass by heading back towards the stairs, “pretty standard. There are four of us here, five if you move in, and that’s the only one on this floor. There’s another one downstairs though. Hope that’s not an issue.”

“Not at all,” you’re used to sharing small spaces and from what you’ve seen, this is spacious enough.

Coming back into the living room, he points out outlets and furniture around the space. It's pretty open, which is nice. 

You see someone with messy black hair behind a massive cup of coffee enter the room and quickly recognize the bassist from the band you saw last week. Darby or something. 

“Oh, hey. Record store person!” he says as soon as he sees you.

“y/n,” you say, giving a slight wave. What are the odds of seeing him here? 

"I'm Dabi," he says, finishing what's left of his coffee.

“Oh, and that’s Keith,” Spinner adds, pointing at a giant maine coon cat that's practically melted into the armchair. 

“Keith,” you repeat, “that’s an interesting name for a cat.”

“It’s because he’s scraggly and looks like Keith Richards. We left the door open once and he just moved in,” Dabi adds. 

“Huh, cool.” You say as Spinner walks you to the kitchen. Dabi follows, busying himself restarting the coffee maker. 

The kitchen is cute. It's much bigger than what you're used to even if you will be sharing it with four other people. 

“So, the next part, if you're still interested.” You nod enthusiastically. Spinner continues, “the rent. We listed the price on the ad. It's not a lot compared to most places, but we need to have some idea that you can actually pay it consistently.”

“I work part time at a record store. I know it's not a lot, but I could try to pick up some extra shif–”

“You have a job that actually pays?” exclaims Dabi, “approved.”

“Wait, seriously?” you ask, hoping he’s not joking. 

“Yeah,” adds Spinner, “you're the fir–”

He's interrupted by someone walking into the room, yawning and grumbling, “Dabi, I can top that crazy dream you had the other night–” 

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the guitarist from the other night comes out of the stairwell and into the kitchen in his sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Seeing you, he stops. Suddenly, you realize why everyone in this house looks familiar – it’s not just the bassist, it’s the whole band.

“Whoa, hi. You're in my kitchen,” Tomura says, wide eyed.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn't realize you lived here – I just responded to the ad looking for a roommate.”

“Cool,” Tomura says, scratching his neck. “Uh, I have to go.” He runs towards the hall, checking his shoulder on the doorway on his way out. 

“Is he okay?” you ask the others. 

“Oh yeah, he'll be fine. We told him a potential roommate was coming by this morning so he knew what to expect. That's a little jumpy even for him, but you get used to him.” Spinner says, unconvincingly. “Just, don't judge us too much for it, you're the only person who's responded that actually has a job and doesn't smell really weird.”

You laugh, but they stare back at you seriously. 

“Okay, well,” you dig through your bag for an envelope, “I have the prorated rent for the month, the last month's rent, and deposit.”

“Perfect,” Spinner says before being interrupted again. A blonde haired girl with space buns comes through the front door. Judging by the backpack, you would guess she's on her way to school. 

“Morning! My girlfriend’s coming to your band practice with me later, can you guys try to be normal for once?” she says, helping herself to some of the coffee Dabi was waiting for and adds a heaping spoonful of sugar. 

“That’s Toga,” Spinner says, “she’s our neighbor Twice’s little cousin. She moved in with him after her parents kicked her out.”

After a brief argument with Dabi about the coffee, Toga is out the door again.

This house is a whirlwind and you’ve only been here fifteen minutes at most. 

“Uhm, other important things. We don't have a lot of house rules,” Spinner says, “just try not to be a dick most of the time.” You swear he glances in specific directions before continuing, “we all share some basic staple food, like the coffee,” that time he directly looks at Dabi, who’s made himself at home on top of the kitchen counter. “But if there’s something more specific, put your name on it and no one will touch it. Also, as a heads up, the back door locks if you close it all the way and the guy in the yellow house hates us so try to avoid him. Otherwise, welcome. When can you move in?”

“Tonight?” you ask, hopefully. 

“Perfect,” Spinner replies, handing you a key from his pocket.

Moving goes quickly. As soon as you pull up in front of the house, three people come out to help you bring your boxes in. This includes Dabi, although you think he's just being nice so you'll tell your coworker how great of a roommate he is. 

It also doesn't hurt that you never really unpacked when you moved into your last apartment. This time, it’s different though. It’s the type of place you could stay for a while. You spend the rest of the day unboxing your belongings and getting your space set-up.

When you come out that evening to make dinner, you notice a lime green post-it on your door.

“welcome to the house.”

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[myfriendpokey]

Talking About Some Horror Comics

(Image: Richard Sala, "The Bloody Cardinal")

On Cohost a while back i wrote a little bit about comicbook inspirations for Anthology Of The Killer - I might repost it when that site goes down at the end of the year, but until then you can read it here: https://cohost.org/thecatamites/post/7154072-i-wanted-to-write-so

For part two I wanted to talk more about horror comics in particular.

I probably wouldn't have gotten into horror at all if it weren't for comics. Horror comics can feel like a "cold" take on a very "warm" genre - indebted to and playing off of a familiar ground of horror films, but without film's tendency towards emotionalism or immediate effects... Working on a far more compressed scale than even the cheapest 80-minute b-movie, amplifying abruptness or abstraction into something dreamlike and strange. And with the great advantage of taking place inside a totally constructed world. It's not strictly a horror comic but something like Jess Johnson's "Nurture The Devil" is unsettling in part because it's hard to place in relation to either a real world or the world of dreams - whether it's a stylised version of some more familiar content or whether the stylisation is a literal depiction of what's happening.

A comic as physical object can also be a relic - not something we experience in one go, rather something to pick up, put down, sift through, read and reread, with new meanings emerging from a mass of material of which the supposed narrative may not be the most important part. The dreadful, knife-wielding maniacs from Al Columbia's Pim & Francie are familiar figures, but seeing their obsessive repetition across the different collected scraps of abandoned or submerged narratives changes them into dream symbols rather than direct threats.

I like a lot of comics that draw on horror imagery - Mark Beyer and Rory Hayes, A. Degen's "Junior Detective Files" and Daria Tessler's "Cult Of The Ibis", Nicole Claveloux and Imiri Sakabashira. But I wanted to try writing here about some comics that made me interested as horror in a genre itself.

Junji Ito: you may not have heard about this guy.... I actually hadn't read any of his work before the Viz edition of Uzumaki a while back, and the sense of being late to the party didn't make it feel less of a revelation. I think part of it was the sense of comics that were totally distinct while at the same time feeling like they were working entirely IN a genre tradition rather than against it; there was a sense of almost impersonal originality in their laconic and assured pacing, the clarity of line and their lack of need to give too much away, which suggested they must be drawing from and distilling a whole surrounding tradition. And this impression persists even when you follow up on other horror manga and the stated influences and find these comics still feel mysterious even in that context. One of his best effects is a willingness to seem more anonymous than he is, or to give the impression even in his most original effects that he's just flatly transcribing a readymade idea or image. And I think this is his biggest influence on internet-era horror, which has tended to disguise itself (even more than is typical for horror) in anonymous and generic forms, a surface impersonality: as if everyone aleady knew about this, except you.

But what I do feel gets underplayed about his work in particular is also how funny it is, and how indebted to comedy timing. Compare the monstrous reveal in an Ito story with one by Umezu (RIP) - in the latter the frame is pushed right in on someone's face, eyes bulging, screaming, the image repeats, gets even closer, we're in that portion of a nightmare where we feel immobilized by horror, stuck in a pit that we can never escape. The same moment in an ito story tends to be one of ironic equipoise - when the horrible thing finally appears it's depicted clearly, powerfully, it's almost this beautiful and static image. The onlookers stand frozen at the edges of the frame, mid movement, eyes wide but expression not yet changed, a single drop of cartoon sweat on the edge of their heads. There's a contrast between the assurance of the thing and the hapless rabbitlike fascination of the character regarding it, who becomes, like us, an aesthetic spectator - for a moment. When the spell breaks, when we see them screaming, running, it's comic because something of that mood of still contemplation that remains intact. Their eyes bulge, their mouths scream, but they're rushing backwards, away from the panel, and we regard their fear with the same attitude of detached interest with which we saw the full outline of the monstrous shape a panel earlier. To me this sense of humour is apiece with the disconcerting flatness of his approach to setting, in which the usual horror sets - gothic, extraordinary places outside the everyday - feel replaced by something anonymous and shabby, a kind of just-expired contemporary. The monsters rarely need to be explained; it's as though our own world has gradually become too worn down to have any purchase or power on these creatures of dreams that walk the landscapes and alleys with impunity.

Richard Sala - sometimes the artists I end up most fascinated by are ones I spend a while bouncing off of first. I read a few Richard Sala stories over the years and for a while I didn't know what to make of them. Great art, stylised and weird, but as narratives they were hard to place - too stylised and exaggerated to feel like straight horror but too obviously serious about and committed to those genre elements to feel like mere parody or pastice. I think I needed to read Uzumaki before I could get what he was doing, because it relies so much on a sense that genre horror was worth taking seriously; seriously enough to treat neither as a punchline or a heritage piece, something you could bring your own offbeat sensibilities and aesthetic to without condescending to the form, because there was something there. In some great interviews he did with the Comics Journal he was explicit about what he valued in the form: the dreamlike and symbolic qualities of b-movies, the ritual and fetishistic nature of repetition, the way pulp artists in an overlooked form could evolve a private vocabulary of forms, structures and images which worked like surrealist procedures to be mined and combined for new discoveries over time.

He was also interesting to me for the way his work changed over time. The shorter early pieces collected in comics like "Thirteen O'Clock" are recognizably art comics using a vocabulary of found horror images: the secret society, the leering face behind a window, are representative symbols of states of mind rather than presences in themselves. But his first longform serial "The Chuckling Whatsit" inverts this. Here the horror elements are given full play - it's a crazed pile up of characters, murder plots, conspiracies, odd locations, dreams, gimmicks, knives and masks, and while none of these feel like straightforward symbols of authorial expression there's obviously still something being worked out underneath that surface narrative, something warping all the pieces into new directions. The scene and the plot seem to abruptly change direction with every page; new characters are introduced and killed off again, constantly; the longest explanation of the plot we get is delivered by a lady with a cartoony moose-end-sqvirrel phonetic accent, but somehow it never loses either a sense of mysterious inner coherence or a sense of dread.

For me his middle period is from "Reflections Of A Glass Scorpion" (reprinted as "Mad Night") to "The Hidden". His art improves and he plays more with colour; the narratives slow down and there's more of a willingness to let them breathe. Characters become more important - my favourite is Judy Drood, the crazed Nancy Drew analogue crashing through a world of horror. Some of the books in this period feel less essential, as though having established what a "Richard Sala" comic would look like he was happy to spend a while doing the Richard Sala version of a vampire story, or an evil clown story, or a YA book. But he kept developing his style and "Delphine", towards the end of this period, is maybe his best single book: spare and serious and strange, as if he had reached a point in his craft where he no longer even needed to resemble himself.

But strangest of all is his late work, which maybe comes closest than most comics careers to the famous "late style" identified by Adorno in his essay. After increasingly subtle and quiet, almost slick, works, there's suddenly a return to the garish - rather than horror the model seems to be sleazy eurospy b-movies, the kind where masked girls in leotards run around machinegunning each other in underground bases. I don't think the biggest Richard Sala fan would think of him as primarily an action cartoonist but that's what we get here - panel after panel of firing handguns wildly into a crowd ("the simplest surrealist act" - andre breton) of milling henchmen, unkillable figures of vengeance running wild. And at the same time, just as startling, there's an abrupt and explicit emphasis on politics - the figures being shot are crowds of ghoulish Bush-era congressmen, executives, cops, sneering militia creeps, guffawing yuppies, movers and shakers. There's a sense of deliriously vindictive wish fulfilment that he's obviously having fun with, and what's not to love about a comic where a masked supervillain named Super-Enigmatix (shortened by the text as "S.Ex") breaks into the chambers of the Supreme Court to shoot the judges with a raygun known only as "the dissolver" in a single panel. But there's also a kind of sadness in the fury with which these characters are obsessively killed and re-killed; the flat, declarative way the political content declares itself has a kind of contempt, as if it weren't worth dressing up any other way. Rather than the politics of horror we have politics as horror, horror as the only form with which politics can adequately be represented.

Sala's last published work was "Poison Flowers & Pandemonium" - a collection of four(!) volumes unpublished at the time of his death, one of which is a collection of cavegirl-themed cheesecake art a character in the book itself winningly describes as "the dumbest thing i've ever read". The first book, a sequel to the late period work "The Bloody Cardinal", is one of his best - tensely paced and cohesive despite swerving crazily across genres, characters and settings (and also involving an evil mummy who exists in two dimensions). But the very last book, Fantomella, haunts me the most. It takes place in a world where the murderers have won - a vaguely futuristic tower in which dumb, bullying assholes, in costumes that are unsettling combinations of paramilitary gear, medieval torturer outfits and old-timey superhero costumes, spend their days in inscrutable violence or tangled, careerist infighting. The heroine, the title character, climbs up the tower level by level and kills absolutely everyone who gets in her way. The guys in the tower bicker and betray each other and bark orders over walkie talkies and then die and die and die; it's as though, having spent the last decade establishing a whole imaginative taxonomy of These Types Of Guy, there were no need for them anymore; they could be erased, one by one, in the perfunctory way of a henchman being offed in the final five minutes of a cheap film. Eventually Fantomella gets to the top of the tower; there's an ending reminiscent of stated lifetime influence Franz Kafka. Did I mention that this book is placed right after the sexy cavegirl story? Art can be powerful, when we let it be.

Mike Mignola, Guy Davis, John Arcudi - yeah, from B.P.R.D. These are spinoffs from Mignola's own Hellboy comics, and as will be the case with spinoffs I think they never quite got the respect of those other books. They're less quiet, less offbeat - they lack the quality in Hellboy of a mysterious folktale logic that we're barely able to glimpse. But that's the thing for me - in Hellboy many characters have some kind of knowledge that they act on, often piecemeal or imperfectly. What makes B.P.R.D. distinct is the sense that nobody knows what's happening at all; not the heroes, not the villains. Stuff just happens and happens and happens and maybe later on some of it is concluded in ways nobody notices because they're dealing with some other shit - the bits of narrative closure we get are as abrupt and unwilled as a long-forgotten gun that suddenly goes off. Maybe someone will accidentally glimpse the resolution of some other thing they had no idea was happening, in the shape of e.g. a nazi millionaire in a homemade skeleton outfit being pulled screaming beneath the earth by a plague of human frogs. Who was that? There's no time to worry about it, because the world is ending.

There's a lot of these comics and I can never keep track of what order they're in, but I want to suggest that one of the deep pleasures of longform serial narrative is reading it out of order and trying to figure out what's going on. You'll see someone pop up for a panel or die or do something of unexplained importance to the rest of the book and then keep going and maybe read an earlier one where you glimpse the setup that you saw finally paying off - if you can still remember. It's maybe an odd one for me to recommend, as someone who aggressively does not care about apocalypse shit, or military shit, or lovecraft shit. But in addition to the fun characters and offbeat storytelling and Guy Davis's typically great art I think what made this stick with me so much was an odd formal parallel, between the slow, shambolic, weirdly believable end of the world it depicts and the nature of serial storytelling itself. Details pile up, beyond our ability to keep track or notice them. The doomed task of remembering, of cultivating the little pile of our perceptions as they spill out and roll away, feels horribly similar to the efforts of the characters to hold a catastrophe in place; a catastrophe that no-one really seems to know the start or meaning of but that we're all stuck living out regardless.

It's a longrunning comic so there are lots of issues. You can try following it from the start and still find after a certain point that you no longer have any idea of what's happening, that "the start" is itself not really the start, just the latest in a series of dubiously reliable origin stories that seem to have no lower bound. You can spend a lot of time on wikis trying to combine the pieces and figure it out, just like the characters in the comic, the ones who inevitably end up going "AIIIEEE!" as they're blown up by a big machine or by some cosmic thingamabob they only realise too late they maybe never really got. Or maybe if you're lucky you can be a bit-part character; here in some pages, missing in others, with fate uncertain, deferred by an error in issue numbering, or a failure of memory.

[emo-trash101]

Saw that you had requests open for Richard Harmon any chance you can do something with Murphy being jealous 👀👀 I KNOW that man is possessive af

OMG YES I WOULD LOVE TO!! For reference, I made this take place generally around season 1-2.

Jealous!John Murphy x reader

Pronouns : second person

Tw: uhh general The 100 shiz

- When Murphy first met you, he immediately knew you were gonna be the most objectively tolerable out of everyone on the drop ship.

- I mean, most of the kids who came along were loud, rambunctious, obnoxious, and generally annoying as hell.

- Not to say Murphy didn't check any of those boxes, but he still found those who inherited exclusively those attributes to be incredibly aggravating.

- Then, there was you.

- You weren't like everyone else, in whatever way, and it intrigued him, so of course, when you two finally got together, he wanted to preserve that for himself.

- Sure, it was vaguely selfish, but that hadn't stopped him before.

- So when you started getting a little extra close to some random guy, Murphy snapped.

- He doesn't show it silently. It's loud, and agonizing.

- He starts off with extra snarky comments toward him, insults with an extra bite, comments that dig a little too deep.

- Of course, he pairs it with excessive PDA.

- If that somehow doesn't ward off whoever you were talking to, he resorts to violence.

- All it takes is one stray comment and Murphy is suddenly beating the poor kid until someone prys him away.

- He doesn't talk about the emotions with you, or really anyone, and if he does, he plays it off as something simple. It isn't out of worry, or anything along those lines, he simply just doesn't want to.

- The only way he'll talk about it is in a much more possessive context, and even then he uses it as a way to put down that guy.

- He doesn't say it, but he needs you with him, and he wants to protect whatever you have, even in his own 'Murphy' way.

I hope you enjoyed this! I feel like I kinda lost my mind somewhere along the way, but I hope it's somewhat coherent.

Make sure you eat food and drink water!