#BUT WHY DO I NEED TO REPLACE ONE PROBLEM WITH ANOTHER

[virahaus]

Another day, another fantastic time to debunk completely delulu takes I've seen around. This one actually baffles me on a whole new level, and that people are ACTUALLY thinking it is canon it's giving me a headache.

Why, yes, on that nutter house that is twitterX (and here too unfortunately) people are now claiming that Eddie was Buck's Bi awakening in 2x01 in place of Oliver's recent interview.

First of all shall we look at the definition of Bi awakening, shall we?

"When someone, who thought or assumed they're straight, develops a crush on someone of the same gender and leads to them wondering if they are bisexual."

The key thing here is the realisation. You cannot have a bi awakening without having a moment where you are like "do I like the same gender too? Am I not straight? Am I bisexual?"

Which is EXACTLY what is happening on 7x04 and 7x05 with Buck exploring his feelings for Tommy before AND after the kiss.

There's NO bi awakening on 2x01 because Buck doesn't question in behaviour!! He doesn't have any moment where he considers his animosity about Eddie as anything more than intense dislike, jealousy and fear of being replaced.

Some of you are taking things too far. You are purposefully trying to ERASE actual canon content about a beloved character's bi awakening (something huge, especially with a 30 y/o character) just because you cannot stop for a second and not insert Buddie everywhere you like, even going as far as completely invalidating Buck's journey.

I'm not denying that in retrospect Buck may have found Eddie attractive (Oliver confirmed this as a strong possibility, yes, but that doesn't equal realisation since Oliver also acknowledged that Buck does not look any farther on his feelings on Eddie than interpreting them as personal jealousy).

But canonically Buck's bi awakening is Tommy.

You may not like it, you may not ship it, but you can't behave like this. Headcanons are all well and good, but presenting them as gospel and canon content? Y'all need to take a deep breath and actually get off the internet for a while.

This behaviour is only going to hurt the fandom in the long term. And it is not the first time or the first instance where you take something Oliver said in interviews and completely misinterpret it to suit your pipeline. Try some critical thinking, y'all.

(I'm aware not everyone is thinking like this, but those types of posts are getting over one thousand likes each. At this point it is a fandom problem.)

[screamingcrows]

Chase - Dottore x reader

Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and Settling in. All of this is just stuff that will never make it into my long fic because those guys don't get to have the happiness these two will get. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm spreading Pseudomonas aeruginosa in your garden.

Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, she works under him, anger, talk of murder, weapon, angst?

MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI

"Doctor? I need to ask you a question," her voice was a far cry from the usual sharpness.

Dottore laid his pen down before taking in her face. It was uncanny how easily her voice could halt his thoughts. Faint traces of salt lingered along her cheeks, but worse still were her eyes. He motioned for her to continue, unwilling to break the delicate silence.

"Why do you pursue knowledge?"

That caused him to pause. She should know, by all means, it was a fact well known throughout the Fatui. But if she needed to hear, there was no harm repeating himself. It was a quiet day after all.

"As you know, there is a discrepancy between what information we, as inhabitants of this world, are allowed to possess and-"

"That wasn't my question," she hadn't snapped at him like that before.

He couldn't help but scrunch his nose in distaste as he briefly considered reprimanding her. The way her flame had wavered during the last month hadn't been lost on him.

Too many nights she would stay long past what was necessary, his segments conveying that they'd found her collapsed atop her desk, freezing cold and difficult to rouse.

"Pose your question better."

"What drives you? What do you want to see at the end of this? I guess," her words faltered when she finally arrived at the right question. "What do you feel when you achieve a goal?"

"A sense of satisfaction from unraveling a mystery, from solving a problem, accompanied of course by a barrage of new objectives to pursue"

His eyes flickered up to her and he found his hand reaching for the mask, diverting the movement to run his fingers through his hair instead. At the first sound of her quiet sniffles he turned his head away, crossing one leg over the other. Something so foreign and so desperately familiar was taking root.

"I feel.. I feel nothing. Like some pitiful ghost that can't move on. And I hate myself for it. Because it means they were right," her voice grew more frantic along with her sobs.

She'd begun pacing back and forth in front of the desk, the force of her steps making his pens rattle in their cup. Dottore felt it in his bones.

"I killed all those people, and it felt so good while they clawed out their eyes. So why is it so empty now? I proved myself, proved that I could, my idea worked a-and they're all dead for doubting me!"

Her frantic laughter rang through the room, making his hands tighten around the armrests. There was nothing he would say to console her, knowing there were only two options from here. It was not something to be driven by another's hand.

"It's not fair!"

The worn desk creaked with the force of her fists bearing down upon it. When he looked upon her again tears adorned her cheeks, and for a moment there was an itch to reach out and brush them away. Run a finger along her bottom lip, swollen from how she'd been chewing on it. Like so much else, it never became more than a simple fantasy.

"Did you expect to bury your troubles along with their bodies?"

"I-.. Well, yes. Obviously."

He had to bite back a chuckle, the hesitation in her voice confirmed his suspicion. She did know better than that. Taking a life out of vengeance was one thing, but living with the consequences was an entirely different issue.

With a small sigh, Dottore reached forward towards where she was leaning over the table, head hanging in defeat. He caught the longing in her eyes when she noticed the approaching hand. It was difficult not to wince when the look was replaced with disappointment when his gloved hand pulled a few things back from the edge.

"You knew it wouldn't make me feel any better," venom laced your words, unsurprising but still unpleasant to hear.

"Yes."

At least her crying had ceased, reduced to nothing but faint sniffles while she rubbed at her eyes. Her voice had risen in pitch, the sound uncomfortably invasive.

"You let me work myself to near-death knowing it was for nothing?"

"We now have a terrifying new weapon in our arsenal, and I'm sure you can improve upon it. I'll get one of the segments working on something to more efficiently deliver it, perhaps we should-"

Dottore tilted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the pen she'd thrown at him. For a moment, everything stood still as he awaited her next action. There was nothing but the faint sound of his heel repeatedly hitting the ground. Had he misjudged her?

"You absolute bastard, you.. you.."

It was difficult to remain a spectator when the realization became comically clear in her expression. Oh he hadn't misjudged her at all. She knew. What had transpired was entirely by her own choice.

A small curse passed his lips when she threw a mug onto the floor, porcelain shattering alongside her resolve. There was barely time to stop her when she stormed out of the laboratory. Perhaps a segment could check on her later.

[fixfoxnox]

Summary: Just a short little thing I wanted to write since my back is hurting again (which naturally means Roach's back is hurting again). This is technically a mini-sequel to Replacement, which I wrote a long while ago, but you don't have to read that to understand this! Enjoy!

"This is it," Roach groaned, feeling pain shoot up his spine as he shifted, "I'm done for. I love you both, split my items amicably. Make sure the worlds best son mug goes to Eddie, just to see Johnathan pout about it."

There was a small laugh from next to him, "You're not dying bug."

"Besides," Ghost chimed in from the other half of the room, "you wouldn't be dead for long, I'll drag your ass up from hell. No getting rid of me that easy." He didn't look up from his stack of paperwork.

"You would force me back i to a world of suffering and pain?!"

"You're being dramatic," Soap chimed. He took Roach's hand in his own, rubbing circles onto his skin with his thumb. "You've just thrown your back out again. Dr. Sanchez said you'll be fine in a day or two."

"My own boyfriend, doubting the depth of my suffering." Roach threw his head to the side dramatically, only to groan again as the movement jostled his back.

The heating pack he had on was helping a bit, but it couldn't erase all of the pain he was feeling. Not even the Tylenol could really help with that. It was just something his body would have to deal with and fix on its own. Just as it had caused the problem on its own.

On the bright side of things, Roach had the privilege of being doted on by his darling boyfriends for a few days. The two hadn't been willing to leave his side after his rather dramatic moment of his back trying to kill itself.

He'd just bent down to pick up his dropped keys, then the moment he'd started to rise back up and there had been a shooting burning pain down his spine. The pain continued on, flooding down through his legs until it felt like it was at the tips of his toes. His knees had given out then, and before he'd even had time to realize that for himself, both Soap and Ghost were at his side checking on him.

"Why do I have to have these issues?" Roach gave a whine, finally done with his dramatics. At least for the moment. "I'm not that old yet!"

Soap gave another laugh and moved into Roach's side, cuddling up to him with his head on his chest. "You know thats not why your back does this."

Roach gave a huff, "You get hit by a car one time and now you've got to deal with lifelong back problems." He shook his head, "Sick and fucking twisted."

Soap gave a small hum and Roach knew the man was likely agreeing with him. After all, Roach knew that Soap had his own issues and recurring pain with his shoulder. He remembered well enough the panic he'd felt when Soap had taken a bullet to the shoulder. Then the panic that came after that when months after healing Soap had a few days where even lifting the limb slightly would cause him pain.

Ghost didn't say anything, but Roach figured the man dealt with much of the same issues as them. He was certainly better at hiding it, but Roach always noticed when he was favoring one leg over the other or would give a wince under that mask because he'd stepped a bit wrong.

It was part of the job. Roach knew that, and he knew that they were all lucky to have only those slight problems, rather than lost limbs like Alex and Jackson, or worse like the many men he'd seen fall in battle before him.

He gave a final sigh, deciding that it would be more beneficial to just enjoy the warmth of his boyfriend next to him rather than complaining further. He needed to take the opportunity to relax anyway. And what an opportunity this was.

Bonus:

"So are you guys gonna blow my back out like you did the last time I was bedridden or what?"

[banannabethchase]

*beats off the negative body image and self esteem issues with the newly acquired handheld vacuum cleaner*

[llitchilitchi]

I get hating certain political systems and trying to abolish totalitarian regimes but at the same time many of them are so interwoven with our history and society they have become tropes and when I consume media with a setting where the monarchy is absolute and revered then I am playing my part and sucking that princeling off

[foone]

why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

[were--ralph]

why exactly do you dislike generative art so much? i know its been misused by some folks, but like, why blame a tool because it gets used by shitty people? Why not just... blame the people who are shitty? I mean this in genuinely good faith, you seem like a pretty nice guy normally, but i guess it just makes me confused how... severe? your reactions are sometimes to it. There's a lot of nuance to conversation about it, and by folks a lot smarter than I (I suggest checking out the Are We Art Yet or "AWAY" group! They've got a lot on their page about the ethical use of Image generation software by individuals, and it really helped explain some things I was confused about). I know on my end, it made me think about why I personally was so reactive about Who was allowed to make art and How/Why. Again, all this in good faith, and I'm not asking you to like, Explain yourself or anything- If you just read this and decide to delete it instead of answering, all good! I just hope maybe you'll look into *why* some people advocate for generative software as strongly as they do, and listen to what they have to say about things -🦜

if Ai genuinely generated its own content I wouldn't have as much of a problem with it, however what Ai currently does is scrape other people's art, collect it, and then build something based off of others stolen works without crediting them. It's like. stealing other peoples art, mashing it together, then saying "this is mine i can not only profit of it but i can use it to cut costs in other industries.

this is more evident by people not "making" art but instead using prompts. Its like going to McDonalds and saying "Burger. Big, Juicy, etc, etc" then instead of a worker making the burger it uses an algorithm to build a burger based off of several restaurant's recepies.

example

the left is AI art, the right is one of the artists (Lindong) who it pulled the art style from. it's literally mass producing someone's artstyle by taking their art then using an algorithm to rebuild it in any context. this is even more apparent when you see ai art also tries to recreate artists watermarks and generally blends them together making it unintelligible.

Aside from that theres a lot of other ethical problems with it including generating pretty awful content, including but not limited to cp. It also uses a lot of processing power and apparently water? I haven't caught up on the newer developements i've been depressed about it tbh

Then aside from those, studios are leaning towards Ai generation to replace having to pay people. I've seen professional voice actors complain on twitter that they haven't gotten as much work since ai voice generation started, artists are being cut down and replaced by ai art then having the remaining artists fix any errors in the ai art.

Even beyond those things are the potential for misinformation. Here's an experiment: Which of these two are ai generated?

ready?

These two are both entirely ai generated. I have no idea if they're real people, but in a few months you could ai generate a Biden sex scandal, you could generate politics in whatever situation you want, you can generate popular streamers nude, whatever. and worse yet is ai generated video is already being developed and it doesn't look bad.

I posted on this already but as of right now it only needs one clear frame of a body and it can generate motion. yeah there are issues but it's been like two years since ai development started being taken seriously and we've gotten to this point already. within another two years it'll be close to perfected. There was even tests done with tiktokers and it works. it just fucking works.

There is genuinely not one upside to ai art. at all. it's theft, it's harming peoples lives, its harming the environment, its cutting jobs back and hurting the economy, it's invading peoples privacy, its making pedophilia accessible, and more. it's a plague and there's no vaccine for it. And all because people don't want to take a year to learn anatomy.

[writers-potion]

Storyediting Questions to Ask

As You Read the First Draft:

Are there place that surprised you as you read your first draft? - Why do you suppose that is? - Is there material there you'd like to expand?

What are the character really doing in this story? - Might they have issues you haven't explored fully yet?

Look to the places that drag. - These might be scenes where you have avoided dealing with something deeper. - What are the characters really thinking in these places? - What are their passions, frustrations, and desires?

Imagine alternative plotlines. - How might your plot be different if ti headed off on another tangent from various points in the story? - You don't have to follow them, but they might suggest other streams that can flow into the main plot.

Think About Structure:

Does you story play out naturally in three acts?

Is there an immediate disturbance to the Lead's world?

Does the first doorway of no return occur before the one-fifth mark?

Are the stakes being raised sufficiently?

Does the second doorway of no return put the Lead on the path to the climax?

Does the rhythm of the sotyr match your intent? If this is an action novel, does the plot move relentlessly forward? If this is a character-driven novel, do the scenes delve deeply enough?

Are there strongly motivated characters?

Have coincidence been established?

Is something happeing immediately at the beginning? Did you establish a person in a setting with a problem, onfronted with change or threat?

Is the timeline logical?

Is the story too predictable in terms of sequence? Should it be rearranged?

About Your Lead Character:

Is the character memorable? Compelling? Enough to carry a reader all the way through the plot?

A lead character has to jump off the page. Does yours?

Does this character avoid cliches? Is he capable of surprising us?

What's unique about the character?

Is the character's objective strong enough?

How does the character grow over the course of the story?

How does the character demonstrate inner strength?

About Your Opposition:

Is your oppositing character interesting?

Is he fully realized, not just a cardboard cutout?

Is he justified (at least in his own mind) in his actions?

Is he believable?

Is he strong as or stronger than the Lead?

About Your Story's Adhesive Nature:

Is the conflcit between the Lead and opposition crucial for both?

Why can't they just walk away? What holds them together?

About Your Scene:

Are the big scenes big enough? Surprising enough? Can you make them more original, unanticipated, and draw them out for all they are worth?

Is there enough conflict in the scenes?

What is the least memorable scene? Cut it!

What else can be cut in order to move the story relentlessly forward?

Does the climactic scene come too fast (through a writer fatigue)? Can you make it more, write it for all it's worth?

Does we need a new minor subplot to build up a saggin midsection?

About Your Minor Characters:

What is their purpose in the plot?

Are they unique and colorful?

Polishing Questions:

Are you hooking the reader from the beginning?

Are suspenseful scenes drawn out for the ultimate tension?

Can any information be delayed? This creates tension in the reader, always a good thing.

Are there enough surprises?

Are character-reaction scenes deep and interesting?

Read chapter ending for read-on prompts

Are there places you can replace describing how a character feels with actions?

Do I use visual, sensory-laden words?

For a Dialogue Read-Through:

Dialogue is almost always strengthened by cutting words within the lines.

In dialogue, be fair to both sides. Don't give one character all the good lines.

Greate dialogue surprises the reader and creates tension. View it like a game, where the players are trying to outfox each other.

Can you get more conflict into dialogue, even emong allies?

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 5)

Masterpost

It took a little convincing to get Jazz to come back with them, but she didn’t want to stay with Constantine because he ‘smelled like cigarettes and generational trauma’ and she couldn’t stay alone. So in the end she agreed to come back to Wayne manor with the promise that Tim would help walk her through the process of getting emancipated since he’d already done it before. Dick informed Agent A they’d be having another new person for dinner and asked Jazz if she had any allergies, which was also a no. Apparently the Fentons tended to be a very hearty family. 

They took the jet back, dropping Jazz off at the manor before parking in the batcave and changing into civics as quickly as they could so they could go greet her. Before they could Alfred sent a video on the family group chat. The video started with Danny pacing in the foye, then the door opened and Jazz hesitantly let herself in only to be greeted by a battering ram of Brother hurtling towards her. 

She managed to get her arms up in time to catch Danny with an Oof before they just clung to each other. Awww, why weren’t any of Dick’s siblings like that with him?! Something to bully them about later.

—----

“What happened?” Danny whispered against Jazz’s chest. 

“The Justice League finally stepped up and dealt with it. Locked the portal, took away mom and dad and Vlad, I don’t know what will happen with any of them but it’s not our fault whatever it is. It’s not our responsibility or our problem, I’m going to focus on university and you’re going to focus on keeping yourself and the babies healthy and safe.” She said softly, feeling Danny wince.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the babies, I just didn’t know how too,” Danny said, and Jazz could feel how he tensed, expecting her to be angry with him.

“It’s okay little brother, I understand. That was a lot to process, I’m sure you would have told me soon,” She murmured and he nodded. “Danny, did he… did he rape you?” Jasmine forced herself to ask softly. She didn’t think so, but she just needed to know.

“No, he stole my DNA and tried to clone me. But it didn’t work and Danielle and the other clones were melting. I don’t know how many he tried but I can’t imagine he started in batches of ten. I could only save two, Daniella and one of the boys. It was awful. I don’t know how long they’ll need to stay inside me to fully develop but they can take all the time they need. I can feel them inside me, I can feel their love. I love them too, they’re my babies Jazz, I know I’m young but…”

“You’re going to be a great parent Danny,” Jazz promised softly, giving him a gentle squeeze. “And I’m going to be the best aunt and babysitter you could ask for.”

She didn’t realize he was crying until his laugh came out audibly wet. “I’m sure you will. Thank you Jazz.”

“No problem Danny. What about the Wayne’s, you trust them? You think you’ll be okay here? I’ll going to Gotham U so I’ll be close. I’d like to work at Arkham anyway.”

“Ya, they seem good, I’ll be fine here Jazz. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you little brother,” Jazz said softly and Danny laughed again, trying to wipe his face as subtly as he could before he pulled back and finally let go.

Alfred cleared his throat delicately to remind them he was still there, though Jazz was glad he hadn’t interrupted their moment. “Dinner is ready when you are Master Danny, Miss Jazz,” he said with a nod and disappeared back down the hall towards the dining room.

“Well I’m starving, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast!” Jazz said as she started to steer them both after Alfred.

“I’m pretty much always hungry,” Danny admitted with a chuckle. “The little ones take a lot of energy and I need to replace it somehow I goes,” He said touching his stomach in a way she now realized he’d been doing a lot. How had she missed that?

“Well you eat as much as you need to, and any cravings too. They probably have nutrients you and the baby need. You should see a doctor too. I know you probably went to see Frostbite already but you’re still half human and if they’re cloned from you so are the babies. Ask Bruce about a doctor that you can trust.”

“I will, I promise. You’re right, I really do want the babies to be okay and with what you said about the Justice League doing their job I have a feeling my existence won’t be illegal for much longer.” Walking into the dining room just in time for the family to overhear the last of that conversation. 

“Definitely not,” Bruce said firmly. “I know for a fact Martian Manhunter is absolutely furious hearing they did something like this to another sentient species just because they weren’t human.”

“You know Martian Manhunter!?” Danny said with literal stars in his eyes. 

“Oh here we go,” Jazz said with fond exasperation.

“Yes?” Bruce said, he hadn’t meant it like a question but he was just surprised, and a little worried, there was no way Danny would be prejudiced right?

“Oh my god can I meet him?! He’s been my favourite hero for ever! He’s from SPACE! I love space! I want to know everything he knows about space, and about Mars! I’ve never been to space! Well I’ve flown to the moon a couple of times but I couldn’t go further and be back in time for school.”

He had started floating off the ground as he enthused about space, with fond exasperation Jazz grabbed the back of Danny’s shirt and tugged him back down into a seat at the dining room table. It was like Peter Pan with the joy lifting him up, and his excitement was both adorable and infectious. It was so good to see him happy. 

While he was talking food had been being passed around, and Damian, who was sitting on Danny’s other side from Jazz, had been heaping his plate while the older boy was distracted. It was sweet to see him being… caring to another person, he was even putting some meat on Danny’s plate with an odd stubborn set to his jaw. He almost looked aggressive but that was really just his determined face. Damian had accepted Danny in record time, which was a little surprising but it also made sense, they all knew Damian really loved caring for people, and children, and with Danny carrying babies no doubt Damian was already staking his claim on the role of favoured uncle. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce promised with a little smile. He was sure J’onn would be happy to meet Danny so it wouldn’t actually be hard. 

“Thank you!” Danny cheered, only Jazz’s grip on his shirt keeping him from leaping back into the air. 

“Eat,” Damian reminded, shoving a fork into Danny’s open hand. “Pennyworth says you were too worried to eat much at lunch and you need the nutrients!”

“Aww thank you ghostling,” Danny cooed, roughling Damian’s hair who scowled and ducked away, but didn’t lash out At All! Huh apparently pregnancy was a shield against Damian’s aggression.

Danny did start to eat though, and to keep him on track the family started talking with each other. It seemed to make him more comfortable, if things were quiet he felt the need to fill the space instead of filling his mouth. It was honestly sort of nice, even Damian shared a bit more than he usually would have about school, and about his art, then started telling Danny in particular about his animals. Danny hadn’t met them yet after all and he needed to know everything! Which ones were friendly, how to appropriately handle any of them, what treats they could have. 

The way Danny lit up and started questioning Damian about his animals was honestly a little startling, but it couldn’t be more clear that he was genuinely enthusiastic and Damian was preening. Rarely did he get such an attentive listening ear when talking about his pets, especially since everyone who had been in the family for a while had heard similar rants so many times they’d started to tune them out. 

It was a testament to Damian’s self control that he insisted Danny finish his dinner before dragging him away from the table to go show him all the various animals he had collected over the years. Danny laughed as Damian tugged on him and waved back at the family, joking about being kidnapped again (which, worrying) but he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s good to see someone with such a healthy and well supported obsession,” Jazz said with a little smile, watching after her little brother and Damian rush off. “Oh!” She said, snapping her fingers, “I should explain all that for you! If you’re going to take care of Danny you’ll need a crash course in Ghosts and Liminality. I uhh, I have a powerpoint?” She said, looking embarrassed and hopeful as she pulled a USB out of her pocket.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss. I’ll set up the projector in the family room,” Alfred said as he whisked the last of the dishes away. 

“Oh! Thank you Alfred. Can I help at all?” Jasmine asked, already getting up from the table so she could follow.

“Nonsense, you’re a guest and you had a very long day already. I’ll set it up, and then fix a room for you next Master Danny’s for tonight,” Alfred said briskly, shooing her back into the dining room room with the family. 

She looked like she was about to argue but she thought better of it. “Alfred is really the one in charge around here and we all know it,” Dick commented to her with a little smile. “No use arguing with him, and he usually knows best anyway.”

“Well, alright if you say so,” Jazz said with a little smile and tension slowly eased from her shoulders. When was the last time she got to relax? Having to worry about her brother and no one really taking care of the, how long had she been googling “how to stitch up a wound’, ‘how to help a 14 year old with ADHD study’, and various other things to try and care for a boy only two years younger than her. 

“So I know you mentioned to Nightwing that you wanted to go to Gotham U? I don’t know how your grades are,” (a lie, they knew she was a genius and her grades were excellent), “But the Wayne family sponsors many scholarships and if you don’t qualify for any of those we would be happy to just pay for your schooling. What would you like to study?” Bruce asked 

“I want to study psychology!” Jazz said, lighting up instantly. “That’s what I’ve wanted to study since I was seven. I want to be a psychologist, and I’d like to intern at Arkham. I know it’s a dangerous place, but I’m tougher than I look and I have Danny on speed dial so I’ll be fine.”

Well at least she had thought about the danger, and tougher then she looked meant something because she already looked plenty touch. “Well, I know Arkham can always use good doctors,” Bruce chuckled. “Just try not to become the next Harley Quinn,” He said it like a joke but he did mean it, the last thing Gotham needed was another evil genius. 

“Don’t worry, she lacked grounding connections due to her upbringing. I’ll have Danny, and his babies, and I’ll make friends outside of the hospital. As long as nothing happens to Danny I’m sure I’ll be fine, just like as long as nothing happens to me, or the other people he loves, Danny will be fine.”

It sounded like a warning, and it probably was, but they already knew that. Zatana had warned them that Danny could be dangerous. He would need grounding connections, but everyone did, and the Waynes already knew they were going to be family. On their own any of the Bat clan knew they could go off the deep end, a lot of them had even seen the futures with evil versions of themselves but with the other to care for and about, it kept them on the right track… at least mostly.

Next

[evilminji]

Okay... so it COULD be because, as a writer, I'm an ASSHOLE to my Characters...

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE FUNNY?

Danny, innocent, gets YEETED into DC. As ya do. And he's a bit messed up. But! He's a Baby Ancient in the making. Gonna be master of Spaaaaaace(~~~☆!) one day. Very exciting, only slightly relevant.

See, Ectoplasm? Dumb. That's why we need Cores and Brains etc. Never let Ectoplasm decide things. It WILL chose the "technically correct but now the buildings on fire" option EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you are running out of fire extinguishers.

Because it is dumb.

Very, VERY No Brain, Just Goo, Dumb.

And THIS Goo has a life to save. A Halfa too maintain in Peak Performance(tm). Because THIS Goo is VERY smart Goo(according only to itself) and TOTALLY knows what it's doing! Damaged meat bits? Oh that's EASY! You just FIX that! Replace with meat bits! See? It's BRILLIANT Goo. 10 out of 10 stars, me!

Small problem.

The instructions have been damaged.

PANIC.

Wait! No! We got this! We are Very Smart Goo(tm). And have Space Powers. This is FINE. We'll... we'll just FIX the instructions! Hand me a hammer! If we smash enough bits together, it'll sort? Of look right? Close ENOUGH? Yeeeeeah. We're GENIUS Goo~

Use THAT!

But where did they GET their ill begotten DNA? Well OBVIOUSLY the place all the OTHER DNA they had was stored, DUH? Keep up, says the Goo with literally no braincells making horrifying choices for an unconscious man. It's Earth.

As in... the planet.

It's not even HIS planet. It's AN Earth. A Planet CALLED "Earth" that dwells in the DC universe, not his, and is covered with ZERO(0) Fentons but plenty of superhumans and aliens. THAT planet.

The Goo grabbed the Very BESTEST Meat Instructions it could FIND! The Goo is also a collective and did not AGREE on what the "Best" WAS. But it's... okay, no, I can't lie to you, it is NOT fine.

But thankfully it IS stable.

Because Ectoplasm may be dumb and indiscriminate as super-bacteria with a flamethrower, but it is a MASTER at the jigsaw of Life. It can reanimate ANYTHING.

Including the now SINGLE MOST CHIMERAD MAN you've ever SEEN. Who is he related too? YES. His left knee is Kryptonian, the fingers on his right hand are Tameranian, his skin tone has shifted to the most ambiguously multi-ethnic tone imaginable (think that future of humanity mock up, where they combine every ethnicity on the premise that inter-racial marriage will becoming increasingly common up to the point where we all just kinda look averaged out thanks to the ease of travel) because it's trying to do all of them at once and none of them are willing to back down, because all of them got the instructions "Be Skin". He might have Slade Wilson's cheek bones and hair.

Danny wakes up and basicly is half Ectoplasmic Goo, half the extended Super Community.

AND CANT GET BACK HOME TO FIX IT.

Because of course this IS fixable. It's just medical shape-shifting. But without HIS template, undamaged. His body is REFUSING to change from what is OBVIOUSLY the CORRECT form. And he keeps getting clocked as "probably related to me".

With the Fenton Luck kicking in? The parts of him people manage to swab and/or get DNA from? Keep MATCHING them. Danny doesn't know WHO is behind this but-! *spots a giggle child with a cat* !!!!!!

You.

Klarion you little SHIT!

So now he's wearing a face that's BARELY his, running from very determined superhumans who want to parent him, trying to steal enough technology to build a portal. AND vowing to kick the witch boy's ASS.

This ISNT FUNNY, KLARION.

His body is Frankenstein's FEVER DREAM! Every time he gets hurt, it tries to "FIX" itself! He lost a chunk of his should back there and HIS ENTIRE BODY CHANGED SKIN TONES. He's pretty sure if he SITS funny, his teeth might fall out and regrow POINTY! He's handing you over to WALKER you horrible little gremlin child!

Just? Take the "Danny is related to X" and "Danny is sick" and turn them uuuuup. Make EVERYBODY concerned except Danny. This is just another fucked up adventure in a long string of fucked up adventures. Give him his DNA back. If he has to suffer the Fenton Luck then he should AT LEAST get to keep the Fenton "built like a tank"!

*gets hit again*

*is GREEN now for some reason* The fuck?

Garfield, aka Beast Boy: I HAVE A CLONE SON!?

Danny: Zone DAMN IT not another one!

@ailithnight @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

i can fix him (no really i can) // mattheo riddle x fem reader

playlist : i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift

summary : mattheo riddle is cold as ice , he always has been , so who are you to think you can fix him?

gryffindor reader , friends with golden trio , makes a bet , fluff , harry x reader platonic , swearing , honestly cringe but wtv

masterlist tppd series masterlist another mattheo fic!

you sat in the great hall staring ahead of you at a certain brown haired boy , eating his food silently surrounded by his chatty friends he didnt seem to pay any mind to. mattheo riddle. he had always intriuged you , you werent sure your curiousity was requited but you knew you liked him. a lot.

"you best not be looking at him again y/n" hermione sighed , sat opposite to you and in front of the slytherin table.

"hermione , ive liked him since first year are we still seriously asking this question every day." you pulled your eyes away from him , and looked at the girl with a teasing smile , knowing you were guilty of staring.

"gosh you really need to get over it , i mean what about dean he seems to really like you?" you both turned your heads to look at hermiones suggested replacement for mattheo , who was currently trying to turn his pumkin juice into water just with his eyes.

you scoffed and turned back to hermione , who looked defeated , "im sure the conversation would be great."

hermione ingorned your sarcasm and continued to argue , "mattheo isnt a good guy we both know this,"

"i can fix him," you winked at her teasingly as she scoffed , containing a laugh.

"arent you just our brave little bob the builder," harry joked , you and hermione being completely startled by his and rons prescence next to you both , eventhough theyd been there the whole time.

you laughed at him , attempting to defend your claim, "no really i can! ill fix him so hard that he gets mistaken for golden boy cedric!"

"this is starting to sound oddly sexua-" ron stated blandly before hermione slapped his arm , making him stop talking abruptly and clutch it.

"i dont believe you," hermione stated simply as you smirked at her.

"end of the week and he'll like me back or atleast talk to me," you stuck your hand out as she hesitated before shaking it muttering a disapproving , 'deal'.

looking at her smugly you let your eyes quickly wander to mattheo , only to see him staring right at you. this caused you to gasp and turn you whole body to face harry next to you , who looked at you in confusion.

holding a hand to harrys ear and whispering , "is he still staring at me" timidly.

harry looked , only to see a very threatening mattheo riddle stare back at him like he started the wizarding war.

"oh merlin no not at you , hes looking at me , not in a .... very nice way," harry whispered back as you refused to turn , nervous by your crush of years staring in your direction.

grabbing harrys arm with your two hands and shaking it with a small cry of terror harry turned back to you, "hes so hot even when he looks like he wants to kill you! id let him as long as he never changed that gorgeous face"

"wow great to know you value my life," harry muttered sarcastically as you laughed at him before slowly turning bcak to face hermione , avoiding looking in mattheos direction.

"well hermione its great to do business with you," you smiled at her as she grimaced at you.

"he is a person you know," she said sternly.

"i know , thats the problem! hes good looking hes smart AND hes a good person!" you sighed.

"well i dont know about one of those things-" ron started in disinterested grumble.

"thats why im doing this hermione! hes so perfect that a little bet is the motivation i need to actually talk to him!" you ranted to her.

she just looked back a you blankly , nodding along to what you said , too bored to argue back.

"anyways , did anyone do their herbology homework?" hermione asked all three of us.

ron let out a defeated sigh , "how many times hermione , not all of us have that little time turning watch thing , we cant do herbology because its at the same time as history of magic!"

"well , ronald , i apolagise that i forgot!...." hermiones arguing back faded into the background as your sudden realisation that you had just made an impossible bet sunk in.

no one can melt mattheo riddle , it is literally impossible.

what have you gotten yourself into.

-----

maybe it is possible! oh the Gods of luck had blessed you today.

Dumbledore just announced the triwizard tournament and from your oh so knowledgable friend hermione , you knew that a ball was involved in the triwizard tournament. maybe the fact harrys name came out the goblet wasnt so good but you had a plan! now this may seem ridiculous , the ball isnt until christmas! but...throughout the term youre doing practices , the first one on friday! two days from now!

and your great plan was to dance with mattheo in this practice, gain his interest , ask him to hogsmeade over the weekend and then BOOM , hes in love!! all by the end of the week!

as you recited your plan to your three friends they looked back at you , horrified.

"right and... you expect mattheo riddle to fall in love with you , in three days?" ron asked in pure confusion.

"well yeah thats what i just said," you said with a shrug.

"y/n you're really not that charismatic i dont think youve ever flirted with anyeone nevermind asked a boy to hogsmeade," hermione said , almost with sympathy for your pure delusion.

"you guys are cruel i think i can ..... i cant do it." you dropped your act of confidence.

your shoulder slouched as you lost all hopes of catching the boy of your dreams , the plan drifting into the forgotten corner of your mind.

the trio watched you lose all happiness and life and let out sighs , harry deciding to speak up , "y/n i think your plan could work. i mean your flirting will be ... raw and.... new". he spoke with uncertainty as he tried to speak in a way that was reassuring , eventhough he didnt believe a word he said.

"really?" you said with hope , looking up at him.

"sure!" he smiled .

"let me practice on you harry!" as you turned to him with an excited smile drowning out his words of declining your request.

you looked at him with your prettiest smile , shuffling closer than before and playing with your hair , "hey boy , want me to be your chosen one?"

you winked at him as he blushed a deep red and looked anywhere but at you.

ron laughed loudly at harrys panic , "that really made you flustered?!, fucking hell!"

ron howled with laughter as harry rubbed his neck , until you turned to ron with the same flirtatious smile , "i really like your hair , i heard gingers are rare - wanna be my one in a million?"

ron paused his laughter and looked at you with horror , "there is literally like 5 other gingers in this room right now-"

"and out of all of them , i chose you" you winked at him as he was left speechless.

"yeah shes kinda good," ron laughed.

"all i can say is good luck, " hermione stated as you smiled in victory.

meanwhile an extremely angered mattheo riddle stood up from the slytherin table and stormed out the hall , having seen your whole encouter with harry.

----

the next thing you knew , you were sat on a bench with all of your year group present , boys on one side , girls on the other. you clenched your shaking hands onto the bench on either side of you , staring directly forward and avoiding mattheo who was stood a few metres away from where you stared.

"you were so confident a few days ago why are you shaking?" hermione asked teasingly.

you snapped your head towards her with a hard glare , "im in no mood for teasing mione im gonna throw up."

she sighed , "just ask him to dance its not that bad y/n dont worry!"

"and if he says no?" you asked in panic.

"then he says no and you lose the bet , " she smiled.

"its...its not really about the bet mione i really like him , if he rejects me i dont think ill recover." you look down at your lap as your leg bounces.

"oh give over! theres about 5 people i can see right now , staring at you , itching to dance with you," she nodded her head in the direction of a group of ravenclaws staring at you as you cringed internally , "and... ha it looks like mattheos seen them too!" she teasingly whsipered in a sing-song voice.

you gave her a confused look before turning to see mattheo , who was actually throwing a deathly glare at the boys who were staring at you.

"theyre probably looking at you mione," you sulked as she went to argue back , interrupted by Mcgonagall walking into the room.

"silence!" she started as you drowned out her words for the next 5 minutes , only tuning back in when she made ron dance with her , laughing hysterically at him.

after a few minutes of rons awkward dancing she urged everyone to join in , everyone hesitated and stayed seated until - to everyones -suprise mattheo was the first person to walk forward with a confident stride to our side of the room , coming straight towards......you?!!

you made eye contact with him and held a hopeful smile until daphne stood infront of him, blocking your view of him and stopping him in his tracks . he tried to get past her until she whispered something to him , making him stop and put his hand on her waist , beginning to dance as everyone else seemed to do the same.

but you remained in your seat , motified by the sight of the boy you liked dancing with one of the prettiest girls in your year , right infront of you.

hermione rested her hand on your shoulder sympathetically before being dragged away by a guy shes friends with in ravenclaw.

you sat in silence until a hand came into your view , held out to you. following up the arm the hand was attached to you finally reached harrys smiling face.

"he sucks anyway , dance with me instead?" he smiled as you allow you sadness to fade slightly , nodding and grabbing harrys hand allowing yourself to be pulled into the middle of the floor , about two metres from where mattheo and daphne danced.

"thanks harry," you said softly as you rested your arms around his neck , his hands resting on your waist.

"no worries, theres no other girl id rather dance with in this room."

"asides from cho chang but ill let you have it because she isnt technically in the room," as you laughed at his flustered face.

"hows ron after dancing with-" you started.

"oh hes horrified , dont worry ill make sure to bring that up for the rest of his life. im sure fred and george will too when i tell them," you both laughed together , letting yourself feel the meloncholia leave.

"i-" you began before being cut off by a sudden presence stood next to you and harry.

turning to look at who had created the shadow inbetween you , you were just as horrified as ron was to see mattheo stood there looking at you.

"can we dance?" he said sternly , not sparing a single glance at harry who had let go of your waist.

"but you were dancing with daphne-"

"i just danced with her whilst draco mustered up the courage to ask her himself , she didnt want to have no one to dance with. i wanted to dance with you." he said with zero hesitation , only breaking eye contact to glance at your arms still behind harrys neck , making you drop them quickly.

"s-...sure" he didnt wait to grab your hand and bring you towards him , resting his hands on your hips and shoving harry out the way with his side.

you felt the blood rush up to your cheeks , hesitantly bringing your arms around his neck and swaying to the music with him , falling into step with everyone else.

he pulled you in closer , his expression becoming softer as harry was gone and it was just you.

"why did you want to dance with me?" you asked so softly it was almost a whisper , a low exchange between two unknowingly requited lovers.

"why wouldnt i?" he paused , a so small - it was almost not visible -smile gracing his lips , "youre interesting."

"how so?" you laughed.

he laughed too before replying , "i dont know im..drawn to you. i have been since first year , i guess i just never acted on it till now."

"why?..."

he paused , "well you like potter dont you? and i dont know if you realise this but every guy here wants to be with you , theyre just too scared and i guess i was too."

you looked at him with pure confusion , "i dont not like harry , hes my best friend!"

he laughed , "well considering you left him to dance with me i think i know that now."

you smiled up at him , admiring every feature you hadnt seen before from your distant pining. from his deep brown eyes to how perfect his curls layed on his head , the small scar across his eyebrow and the so faint freckles that you can only see them at this close proximity.

"i think youre interesting too," he smiled at your words as you left the first sign of your requited feelings , "i dont know you well but ive always liked you. at first it was just because youre hot - but now its much more! youre cold to everyone but i can tell youre probably really nice, and youre so passionate during quidditch matches , and youre so smart which is really suprising considering you only show up to the lessons we share- oh. oh!" you rambled as you realised how obvious his signs were this whole time.

he laughed at you a very light pink painting itself across his cheeks , "yeah , oh."

you looked down sheepishly until his soft voice caught your attention again, "well i guess a trip to hogsmeade has been due for quite a while then?"

you grinned at him nodding your head in excitement , "definetly!"

as you and mattheo continued to sway and talk about everything you could think of - harry , ron and hermione stood in the corner of the room.

"fuck off she actually did it!!" ron said in pure suprise.

"ive never seen mattheo riddle smile before," harry commented before turning to a happy hermione , "you owe her five chocolate bars."

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Dick’s

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: the only good part of your job at Dick’s Sporting Goods is how often Peter comes in to buy repairs for his suit

Masterlist

“Back so soon?”

“What?” Peter looked up and pulled his earbud out when he heard you say something. You chuckled when you heard the music coming through his earbuds and continued scanning the spandex shirt he was buying.

“You were here two nights ago.” You reminded him. “And four days before that. You’re here all the time, actually.”

“Yeah, I am. How’d you know that?” Peter blushed as you handed him the bag of his stuff. You looked around for anyone who might be listening before motioning for Peter to come closer. His blush deepened and he leaned across the register.

“I work here.” You whispered in his ear. You cracked a smile as you leaned back and pointed to the Dick’s Sporting Goods logo on your uniform shirt.

“Right.” He laughed shyly. “Sorry.”

“It’s all cool. I’m sorry that I work here too.” You shrugged, making Peter laugh again.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“The name of the store is Dick’s.” You said flatly. “And apparently, that’s the only kind of people they hire here.”

“Yeah. I asked someone for help finding the nuts and bolts and he asked if I looked in my mouth.” Peter admitted. Your jaw dropped in surprise before you burst out laughing.

“Who was it?” You asked him. “Did he have red hair?”

“Yeah. In the hardware section.”

“Fucking Jeremy. I’ll kick his ass for you, okay? I’m pretty sure he’s like 13 or something but I’ll still do it.” You said, and Peter couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.

“That’s really not necessary.” He laughed shyly.

“All right.” You nodded. “Just know that I would. I’ve been looking for a reason to kick his ass anyway.”

“Why?” Peter wondered.

“Didn’t you see his face? It’s so punchable. Plus, he watches videos in the break room at full volume with no earbuds in. And if he thinks the video is funny, he’ll rewatch it multiple times. So then we all have to hear this loud, unfunny video multiple times. It drives me crazy. He deserves to get his ass kicked. I might do it just for fun now.”

“His face was pretty punchable.” Peter admitted.

“Can we hurry this up? This is taking way too long.” A man behind Peter complained, making your smile fall.

“That’s what she said.” You mumbled as you grabbed Peters receipt.

“To him.” Peter replied. You looked up at him and smiled in surprise.

“Because he’s probably bad at sex.” Peter explained in a weak voice.

“No, I got it. And I appreciated it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Peter laughed shyly.

“One last question for you. Then I have to help Mr. Clean with his very important purchase of golf ball cleaner.” You said as you nodded towards the guy behind Peter.

“Oh, sure. Ask away.”

“Are you listening to Judas by Lady Gaga?” You asked and pointed to Peters earbuds. He turned red in embarrassment and thought about lying, but you clearly already knew.

“It’s her best song.” He said simply.

“Oh, I know that.” You assured him. “I just wanted to make sure that you know that.”

“Oh, I do.” He matched your tone, making you smile.

“Well all right then. Have a good night. See you really soon probably.” You teased him.

“Yeah. See you soon.” Peter smiled at you as he took his receipt.

Peter practically skipped out of Dicks that night. He frequented the store every time his suit needed a repair and had seen you working there a few times, forever looking miserable behind the cash register. He just never thought you’d notice him too.

A few nights later, Peter busted the eye on his mask while on patrol. He dropped his suit off at home and when to Dick’s Sporting Goods to get something to replace it. When he brought it up to the register to buy and smiled when he saw you.

“Hey.” You smirked at him and blew a bubble with your gum.

“Hey.” He smiled softly at you.

“Gum?”

“What?” He asked. You wordlessly held up a pack of Big League Chew and blew another bubble.

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving.” He replied without thinking. He felt embarrassed for malign a stupid joke but you cracked up over it.

“I use that joke all the time.” You laughed. “Except I usually say “no thanks, I’m trying to quit.” I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I like yours better.” Peter tried to flirt.

“You can steal it. I won’t mind.” You winked at him and blew another big pink bubble. Peter gulped as you handed him his bag.

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.” You called after him as he left the store.

He returned a few days later, not that he needed anything. He was here for you this time. He came into the store at night with a plan to learn your name. It wasn’t much, but it was a step towards getting to know you better.

“Hey, Judas Boy.” You waved to Peter from behind the register.

“Hey, Dick’s girl.” He waved back and grabbed some spandex before heading to the register.

“Oh, thank God.” You said sarcastically. “You haven’t bough red and blue spandex shirts in almost a week. I was worried you were going to run out.”

“I almost did. This week has not been easy.” Peter humored you. You smiled when he played along and put his stuff into a bag.

“How come you guys don’t wear name tags?” Peter asked you as he put his plan into action.

“We’re supposed to. We’re also supposed to wear hard shoes and khaki pants.” You said behind your hand and pointed your foot out from behind the register to show him your leggings and crocs.

“I see. Not much of a rule follower?”

“I can be. But not for Dicks. Nothing for Dicks.” You said with such passion he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.

“But where else can you find a spandex section like this?” Peter joked and held up his bag.

“Models. Target. Walmart. Patagonia.“ You started to list off.

“Okay, sure.” Peter agreed. “But Dicks is the only one that carries red and blue.”

“Oh, I see. And red is blue is the only kind you can buy?” You chuckled.

“Obviously. What am I supposed to wear? Black?” Peter grimaced, making you laugh again.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? I’ve always wondered that. Why could you possibly be doing that you need all this red and blue spandex clothing?”

“Cause I’m Spiderman.” Peter said with a simply shrug. He held his breath and hoped you take that as a joke, which of course, you did.

“That’s hot.” You smirked and handed him his receipt.

“Have a good night.” He told you.

“Night.”

Peter was back just a few nights later. He never actually learned your name, so he technically had an excuse to return. He brought a spandex shirt up to the register and you laughed when you saw it.

“I think you’re single handedly funding our red and blue spandex supply.”

“Really? I’m the only one who buys it?”

“Just you.” You nodded. “My boss said he wasn’t gonna order anymore but I told him that would be making one special customer very unhappy.”

“You told him to order more just for me?” Peter smiled shyly and felt his blush go all the way to his ears.

“Duh.” You scoffed. “I gotta earn that sweet, sweet $15 an hour somehow. Pleasing one specific customer is how I choose to do it.”

“$15 an hour to work by yourself every night is insane. But I don’t even get paid for my job, so I’m not one to talk.”

“What is your job?” You wondered.

“I told you. I’m Spiderman.”

“No, but really.” You laughed. Peter looked down at the spandex and tried to think of any other profession that could explain why he was always buying it.

“I’m a male ballerina.” He said finally.

“For real?” Your eyes widened. “That’s way cooler.”

“Cooler than Spiderman?”

“Hell yeah.” You scoffed. “I’ve never seen Spiderman do a pas de deux.”

“I’ve never seen anyone do a pack de- um…”

“Pas de deux.” You chuckled when he couldn’t say the word.

“Yeah. That.” He blushed again.

“Have a good night then, nutcracker.” You said with a wink.

“Night, Dick‘s girls.”

The next time Peter came into the store, he had to stay away from the spandex section. May was getting suspicious about why he was buying so much when his suit didn’t have any visible damage, so he had to think of something else.

“Gummy worms?” You asked as Peter dropped a bag of sour gummy worms on the counter.

“You sell them. So I’m buying them.” He shrugged. You laughed as you scanned it and looked up at him.

“Do you live around here?”

“About 4 blocks away.” He answered. “Why?”

“Because this is New York. Which means you had to have passed, at the very least, 4 corner stores to get here. All of which sell gummy worms. And yet, you chose to walk all the way to a sporting goods store to get them. Why is that?” You asked as you leaned on the counter.

“I didn’t need spandex tonight.” He admitted as a blush painted his cheeks.

“Then why’d you come out here?” You smirked.

“Because I’m a stalker. And I’m learning your schedule so I can smite you and wear your skin.” He replied without thinking. He held his breath again but was sure you would not find a joke about him killing you to be funny. But to his surprise, you smirked in amusement.

“That’s hot.” You said replied. “Can you cover my shifts for me once you start wearing my skin?”

“Sure.” He shrugged.

“Cool. Enjoy your worms.” You chuckled and handed him his candy. Peter was about to leave when he decided to rip open the bag and hand you a worm.

“For your troubles, madam.” He said, then made a dash for the door. He heard you laughing as he walked out into the street, making it all worth while.

Peter returned to the store the next day but felt his heart sink in disappointment when he didn’t see you behind the register. He turned to leave and jumped when you were standing right behind him.

“Have you ever seen Black Swan?” You asked him.

“What? Jesus Christ. You scared me.” He said and put his hand over his pounding heart.

“You’re a male ballerina, right? You must’ve seen Black Swan.”

“No. I’ve never heard of it.” Peter answered as his eyes darted to the side.

“That was the face of a man who has 100% seen lezzy wet dream scene from Black Swan.” You laughed and pointed to him.

“Maybe once or twice.” His whispered.

“Well I’m going on break now and I was gonna go watch it in the storage room.”

“Oh. That sounds fun.”

“You wanna come?” You asked him like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. Peter looked around to see if any customers or employees were watching before following you into the back. He knew he shouldn’t be walking through a door that said “employees only”, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to hang out with you.

“Am I allowed back here?” Peter whispered and stayed close behind you.

“Probably not.” You shrugged and led him to the storage room. You shut the door behind the two of you and sat down on one of the shelves.

“Will you get in trouble?” Peter asked as he took a seat beside you.

“Maybe.” You shrugged again and pulled the movie up on your phone.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your manager. I’d feel horrible.”

“Dude, my manger is 17 and high as a kite right now.” You snorted. “He won’t care as long as we don’t interrupt his vape session.”

“Oh. Okay.” Peter relaxed and leaned against the wall. You shoulders were touching and he realized this was the closest you’d ever been.

“Here. I didn’t want to subject you to using a strangers earbuds so I stole this from the front.” You said as you pulled new earbuds out of your pocket. You tore them out of the plastic casing and plugged them into your phone before offering Peter one.

“They’re your favorite colors, right?” You asked in a soft voice. The earbuds were red and blue, the only colors Peter ever bought. They weren’t actually his favorite colors, just the color of his suit, but he thought it was cute that you specifically got this pair thinking he’d like the colors.

“Yeah. Red and blue are great.” He smiled softly and put his earbud in. You put the other in and started the movie. Peter couldn’t pay attention to a single second because the smell of your perfume was triggering all his senses. He stared at you instead of the screen until his eyes landed on the earbuds connecting you.

“I can’t believe you stole for me.” He said with a smug grin.

“Relax. I don’t do it often. But I did also steal these for you.” You said and pulled a pack of gummy worms out of your other pocket. Peters face lit up and he opened the worms before handing you one. Your fingers touched at one point when you both reached for a word and he gulped.

“When did you take these anyway?” He wondered.

“A couple hours ago when I first clocked in.” You replied. “I made sure to wait until I was on the company’s time before I took them. I don’t do anything here until I’m on the company’s time.”

“So you knew you were going to ask me to watch this with you when you first got here?” He asked as a smile crossed his face. You looked up from the movie and sheepishly turned to face him.

“You always come in at this time. And I’ve always wanted to see this movie. I figured you’d like it because you like ballet. Is that weird?” You asked, sounding nervous for the first time.

“No. It’s not weird.” Peter shook his head to assure you. You smiled in appreciation and nodded before turning back to the movie. Peter was able to focus on it now, but couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you.

“I love getting paid to watch gay movies.” You sighed happily as the movie neared its end.

“You need to make money somehow. God, I need a job. I’m gonna go broke from this store alone.”

“You’ve never looked at your receipt, have you?” You chuckled and looked over at him.

“No. Why?”

“Every time you come in here, I only charge you for tic tacs.” You admitted. “No matter what you buy, I just remove the tag and then scan a pack of wintergreen tic tacs.”

“Wait, seriously? Why?” He smiled curiously and turned to face you.

“Because then I can eat the tic tacs without feeling bad about stealing since you paid for them.” You shrugged. “And so that you don’t give all your money to Dick’s Sporting Goods just to fuel your spandex fetish. You only ever spend a dollar or so when you come here. I can’t believe you never realized that.”

“So you’ve been saving me money this whole time? Those shirts are like $15 each.”

“Isn’t that crazy?” You chuckled. “An hour of my work is worth a single, thin shirt. That makes me feel less guilty about never making you pay.”

“You’re really cool for that. Thanks.” Peter said sincerely.

“Yeah, well. I think you’re cool too.” You shrugged and looked down so he couldn’t see your smile. Peter stared at you with a dreamy smile on his face until he noticed the clock behind you.

“How long is your break?” He wondered.

“15 minutes.” You shrugged.

“15 minutes?! We’ve been back for over an hour.” Peter whispered harshly.

“Jeremys got it.” You waved your hand. “I cover for him all the time. He owes me.”

“Okay, good.” Peter sighed. “As long as you won’t get in trouble.”

“Will you stop worrying about me? I’ll be fine. You need to start breaking a few rules every now and then. Do you always do exactly what you’re expected to?”

“You’d be surprised.” Peter mumbled and debated telling you the reason he was always buying red and blue spandex. You noticed he had a far off look in his eyes and moved his chin to make him look at you.

“You never told me your name, by the way.” You said in a soft voice.

“It’s Peter.” He replied as his eyes dropped to your lips. “What’s yours?”

“Y/N!” Jeremey came barging into the m storage room, making you and Peter jump away from each other.

“Oh, there you are.” Jeremy smiled calmly. “Can you help me ring this guy up? He has a coupon but it’s expired.”

“So then he doesn’t have a coupon.”

“I know but he’s being really annoying about it and told me to get the manger but Kyle is vaping and said not to disturb him.” Jeremy whined.

“Damn, still? How long has this kid been vaping for? Are we even sure he’s alive?” Peter asked.

“Wait, who’s that?” Jeremy frowned and pointed to Peter. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look.

“That’s Peter. He works the night shift.” You said quickly.

“I’m Peter. I work the night shift.” Peter nodded in agreement.

“Oh. Okay. I don’t really care. You could’ve been back here smocking crack and sucking dick with a total stranger and I would not have batted an eye. Lord knows I’ve done it. But I do really need your help with the coupon.”

“Ugh. Fine.” You grumbled and got up to go follow Jeremy. Peter got up as well to let himself out.

“See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before heading back to the register. Peter touched the part of his arm where you’d hand had been and smiled softly.

“See you later.”

Peter walked out of the store with a huge smile on his face. But loud noises coming from dumpster behind the store caught Peters attention. He climbed up the wall and walked along the roof so he could scope out what was going on. When Peter saw two guys trying to pick the lock to the back door, he quickly pulled his suit out of his backpack and put it on. He dropped down behind the two guys and cleared his throat when they didn’t hear him.

“Hey guys. I guess you didn’t see the front door. It’s right around the block under the huge, glowing sign that says Dick’s.” Peter said sarcastically. The guys stopped what they were doing and wiped around.

“Woah. It’s the Spiderman.” One of the guys gasped.

“Why do people always say “the” Spiderman?” Peter wondered. “It’s just Spiderman. I was very clear about that when I first started.”

“Let’s get this freak.” The other guy said and started walking towards Peter.

“Before we fight, I should let you guys know that two against one isn’t really fair when the one has web shooters.” Peter said as he raised his fists. His cocky smile disappeared when three more guys came out of the shadows and closed in on him. The five guys took turns punching and kicking Peter until he laid on the ground in a ball. He struggled to catch his breath and coughed up some blood as one of the guys delivered another kick to his stomach. One of them rolled him over and climbed on top of him with his fist raised in the air. Peter accepted his fate and was about to shut his eyes when a hammer, still in its package, came flying through the air and hit the guy in the head. The man grunted in pain and fell off of Peter. This gave Peter enough time to crawl away as more hammers were thrown in the direction of the men. Peter weakly looked up and saw you standing in the doorway with a bunch of hammers in your arms that you were haphazardly throwing at the men.

“Eat my hammer!” You yelled and threw another hammer at the head of one of the guys. Peter let out a weak laugh and clutched his side in pain.

“Dick’s girl?” He asked groggily.

“It’s Y/n.” You reminded him and threw another hammer. This time, one of the guys caught the hammer and started running towards you. Before Peter could get up to protect you, you pulled a bowling ball out from the floor beneath you and threw it at the guy. He was knocked to the ground as you pulled something else behind your bat. When you stepped under a streetlight, Peter as able to see you had taken a lacrosse stick from the store. You whacked one of the guys across the face so hard that he fell to the ground. You swept the leg of another guy, leaving only one standing. Peter held his aching body as you fearlessly walked up to the final goon.

“Spiderman over here is my friend. He’s one of the much, much friendlier Avengers. But not me. I’m fucking mental. I was trained in kung fu for the moment I could walk. I was raised to be a weapon. You don’t want to mess with me.” You said to the man as your rung the lacrosse stick in your hands.

“Oh please. I’ve taken shits bigger than you.” The man sneered and pointed to you. You smirked and caught his finger between your thumb and index finger while keeping your pinky upright.

“You see this? This is called the Wuxi Finger hold. If I bend my pinky, your chi is gonna be so fucked that all the bones in your body will break and half this block will be decimated.” You told him

“You’re bluffing.” He scoffed. “That’s not possible.”

“You wanna find out?” You asked and tightened your grip on his finger. The man’s eyes flicked between your face and his finger as he debated whether or not he believed you.

“This chick is crazy. Let’s get out of here.” The guys finally decided and took off running. The four others groaned as the got up and ran away as well. You sighed and threw the bloody lacrosse stick into the dumpster before looking down at Peter.

“So you’re not a male ballerina?”

“No. I’m Spiderman.”

“That’s not as cool.” You mumbled and bent down to help him sit up fully.

“Can you really break all his bones with one finger?” Peter asked you.

“Huh? Oh, no.” You chuckled. “I stole that shit from Kung Fu Panda. Those ska-douches clearly don’t have good taste in movies so they didn’t even realize.”

“Oh.” Peter smiled weakly. “Well, thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome, Peter. Come on.” You winked at him and carefully helped him stand up. You wrapped his arm around you and helped him limp his way into the break room. You raided the sports injury aisle before helped Peter up onto a table.

“Am I allowed to be back here?” Peter asked as he pulled his mask off.

“No one’s gonna know. Kyles vaping in the baseball aisle and Jeremy went home.” You said and set the supplies you had taken down on the table beside him.

“Are you allowed to take those?”

“You are quite a rule follower for the face of illegal vigilanteism, you know that?” You chuckled and opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“I’m actually not a vigilante. I’m on Mr. Starks roster. We have government clearance.”

“Okay. So just tell yourself I have government clearance to steal these supplies.” You told him, making him laugh. You laughed as well and started to clean him up. Peter stared at you fondly as you patched up his wounds.

“I really appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m in charge of filling out the inventory catalogues when we get shipments. I can easily make it look like these supplies never existed. Don’t worry, okay? And even if I do get in trouble, it’ll be worth it.” You said without looking at him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Peter asked softly. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

“Because I like you.” You shrugged. “I think you’re cool.”

“You do?”

“Is that shocking?” You laughed and cleaned a cut above his eyebrow.

“Kinda. I’m kinda a loser.”

“Really? Because I didn’t see any losers out there tonight. You know, other than those five losers trying to break into a Dick’s sporting goods. I’m really glad all the golf pencils and eye paint are safe.” You said sarcastically. Peter laughed and rested his hands on your hips.

“I like you too, by the way.”

“You do?” You asked skeptically.

“A lot, actually. Sometimes, I don’t even need anything. I just come here and hope you’re working.”

“Well I asked my boss to only schedule me at night because you never come in during the day.” You playfully one upped him.

“Really? You did that because of me?” He smiled fondly.

“You coming in here is the only good thing about this place.” You answered honestly.

“You’re the only reason I come.” Peter told you.

“Ayo.” You snickered.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed sheepishly.

“It’s okay. It was funny.”

“No you know why I’m always in here buying spandex and random things. I bust up my suit a lot and the guy who made it for me isn’t around anymore.”

“It’s a pretty cool suit. I can’t even tell where you’ve patched it up. I guess our spandex is just really high quality.”

“You got some pretty cool clothes yourself. Not everyone can pull off Hunter green.”

“Wanna see something?” You asked and unzipped the green Dick’s zip up on had on to reveal a black T- shirt underneath that read “I heart Dick’s” with the stores logo in the heart.

“I heart dicks? No way that’s a real uniform.” Peter laughed and pulled on your shirt to read it better.

“Yep. I couldn’t believe it either. I guess the Boomers that make our uniforms don’t see penis humor in everything like our generation does. I tried to tell my boss that these shirts were ridiculous but he said he’d fire me if I didn’t wear it. Even though I literally hate Dick’s.”

“You do?”

“Not that kind of dick.” You laughed. “I meant the store. If this place burned down, I wouldn’t pee on it to put it out. In fact, I probably started the fire.”

“Then why don’t you quit?”

“I need a job.” You shrugged. “And they’re super understaffed so they give me a lot of hours. Plus, if I left, how would I see you?”

“We could hang out. Preferably not in a Dick’s sporting goods.” Peter suggested.

“That’s my favorite place to hang out.” You smiled. “Can I give you my number?”

“I mean, if you want.” Peter joked as he handed you his phone. You put his number in and handed it back to him.

“There. That’s my number.”

“It’s hot.” He said as he looked at it. He gulped and looked up at you, thinking you’d find that weird.

“You’re such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “You better text me.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good.” You said and poked his chest. Peter stared at you for a moment as a smile tugged on his lips.

“Would it be weird if we kissed right now?” He asked you.

“Yes.” You scoffed. “You’re covered in blood and gravel.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” He blushed in embarrassment and nodded his head. You cracked a smile before wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him. Peter felt love in that Dick’s Sporting Goods that night. It was all around him. The kiss ended sooner than he would’ve liked, but it was still perfect.

“Hey, you did it anyway.” He smiled in surprise.

“Yeah, well. I wanted to.” You laughed shyly and kept your arms around his neck.

“And then she kissed me anyway. And she got Neosporin all over her face. And my blood! It was insane, Ned. I wish you could’ve seen her with the lacrosse stick. She destroyed so much store property. It was incredible.” Peter jumped in excitement as he recanted the story to Ned the next day.

“You had your first kiss in Dicks sporting goods?” Ned whispered in awe.

“Uh huh.” Peter nodded.

“What are you guys talking about?” Flash asked as he stuck his head between Peter and Ned.

“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and gave Ned a look.

“Peter kissed the hot Dicks cashier.” Ned blurted.

“Ned!” Peter whispered harshly. “Why would you tell him that?”

“You kissed Alejandro?” Flash gasped and looked jealous.

“What? No. Who even is that?”

“I know all the Dicks sporting goods employees by name. I’m in there all the time buying golf and tennis and bad mitten shit because I’m rich as fuck. If it wasn’t Alejandro, then who was it?” Flash questioned.

“Her name is Y/n. She works the closing shift.” Peter told him.

“Wait, the one with the rebellious gleam in her eyes? No way you kissed her.” Flash snorted. “I’ve been trying to get her number for months.”

“Really? Because I got it last night.” Peter replied with a shrug.

“And a smooch.” Ned added. “On the mouth.”

“He knows where, Ned.” Peter whispered without taking his eyes off Flash.

“There is no way in hell that Penis Parker was macking on a hot cashier. And at Dick’s sporting goods no less.” Flash laughed loudly, drawing the attention of students passing by.

“It’s true.” Peter insisted. “And I don’t care if you believe me or not. Because I know it’s real.”

“Wow. You hear that, everybody? Penis Parker has a fake girlfriend!” Flash shouted in the hallway. People stopped to laugh and point at Peter, making him turn red.

“What? No I don’t.”

“He’s pretending he had a girlfriend who works at Dicks Sporting Goods to make up for the fact that no one will ever touch his dicks sporting goods.” Flash said even louder.

“Oh my God. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Peter grumbled and Ned followed after him as he left. Once they were out of the crowd, Peter pulled his phone out and looked over your last conversation.

“Do you think it’s weird she hasn’t texted me back in a while?” He asked Ned.

“Well what was the last thing you guys talked about?”

“We were in the middle of a conversation about the best Adam Sandler movie and she ghosted me.” Peter said as he checked the time. Your shift had definitely started by now and he knew you texted on company time.

“Is she working tonight?”

“Yeah. Closing shift.”

“So go visit her.” Ned shrugged.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Peter worried.

“She wouldn’t have kissed you if she didn’t like you.” Ned reminded him.

“I guess so. Okay. I’ll go see her after class.”

Once Peters last class ended, he pulled out his phone to call you as he walked in the direction of your store. You answered the phone but didn’t say anything.

“Hey. I was just thinking of you.” Peter said into the phone.

“Peter.” You whispered in a shaky voice. He could tell you were crying and froze in his tracks.

“I was planning on stopping by. Is everything okay?” He asked and quickened his pace in the direction of the store.

“No. I don’t think you should come in.” You said quietly. Peter stopped walking and felt his heart sink. You must’ve lost feelings after the kiss and didn’t want to hang out anymore.

“Oh. Oh, okay. No problem. I won’t come by.” He said and tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

“But maybe your friend can come in?” You asked, making his senses tingle.

“My friend?” He asked and started towards the store again.

“Yeah. The ballerina.” You replied and he knew exactly what you meant. Peter stopped in an alleyway to throw on his suit before running towards the store.

“Are you in danger?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You said with a forced laugh.

“I’ll be right there. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Who are you talking to? Is that a phone? I said all phones in the bag.” Peter heard from your end of the phone. You hung up after that and Peter raced to the store. When he got there, he snuck in through the back and quietly made his way to the front. He found you behind the register with your hands up in the air as a man in a hulk mask stood in front of you.

“Hey, buddy. Let me guess. The last jock strap you bought was too loose you’re back for another one?” Peter said, making the guy whip around. That’s when Peter saw the gun in his hand and froze.

“Oh. My bad. I didn’t see the gun from behind.” Peter said and put his hands in the air. He made eye contact with you from behind the register and you mouthed that you were sorry.

“Why don’t you walk out of here and pretend you didn’t see anything, okay pal?” The man said as he pointed the gun back at you.

“Sorry sir, but I can’t do that. You see, I’m quite taken with the cashier you’re holding at gunpoint here.” Peter said and pointed to you. You let out a short laugh as tears fell down your face.

“Good. Then you can watch me blow her head to bits.” The man said and took a step towards you. You let out a little squeak in fear and shut your eyes.

“Can I convince you to reconsider? She’s got a great head. I’d hate to see it get blown off.” Peter said calmly and slowly made his way towards the man.

“I said you could take the money. Just take it and leave.” You pleaded with the man.

“There was only $36.62 in there. I didn’t rob store for less than 40 bucks.” The man shouted at you.

“No one uses cash anymore.” You whimpered. “It’s all Apple Pay.”

“Then tell me the combination to the safe.” He yelled and tightened his grip on the gun.

“I don’t remember it.” You cried. “I don’t listen when my boss talks to me.”

“You’re lying! I know you know.”

“Why would I lie? You think I’d risk my life to protect this store? I hate this store. It’s so stupid. Why is it called Dick’s? Who is Dick?”

“She’s making some excellent points.” Peter agreed.

“Both of you shut up! Give me the combination to the safe now or I’ll shoot you both.”

“I don’t know it!” You exclaimed. “I don’t even know the address to this place.”

“You think this is funny?” The man asked and took a step closer to you to the gun was pressed against your forehead.

“Not right now but I probably will later.” You answered honestly.

“That’s it. You’re dead.” The man said and cocked his gun.

“No!” Peter exclaimed as he dove towards you. He knocked you safely onto the ground while the man shot him three times in the chest. You screamed as Peter fell to the ground in a thud. You were about to reach for him when he jumped back up on his feet.

“Just kidding! It’s bulletproof.” Peter said cheerfully as he shot a web at the man’s gun. He yanked it out of his hand and threw it to the side before shooting two more webs that stuck the man’s arms to his sides and glued his legs to together. The man fell to the ground and tried to break free, but was unsuccessful. Peter shot one last web at the man’s face before pulling his mask off. He turned around to ask you if you were okay and was immediately met by you throwing your arms around him. He pulled his mask off before hugging you back tightly until your breathing calmed down.

“How did you know you were bullet proof?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“I didn’t.” He admitted. “I just knew that you weren’t.”

You pulled away to stare at him in disbelief, almost looking angry with him for risking his life for you. Your angry expression melted into a look of awe.

“Thats hot.” You said and threw your arms around him to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and held you tighter, only breaking apart when you needed to catch your breath.

“Do you kiss all your local cashiers like that?” You asked him.

“Nope.” He chuckled. “Just you.”

“Good. You better keep it that way.”

Peter smiled and pressed his forehead against yours as you both calmed down from all the excitement when a thought crossed his mind.

“Did you really not know the combination to the safe or were you protecting the store?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Are you accusing me of risking my life to protect Dick’s Sporting Goods from a robbery?” You pretended to be offended and put your hand over your heart.

“No. But I am accusing you not telling that guy the safe combination just to mess with him.” Peter replied. A smirk crossed your face as you went over to the safe and put in the combination.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for a bit.” You said as you pulled the safe open.

“I knew it.” Peter laughed and shook his head.

“I was planning on telling you something tonight. You know, before I got held at gunpoint by a man shorter than I am.” You said as you walked back over to Peter.

“Oh really? What?”

“They’re making me store manager. That means you can get all the free spandex and gummy worms you want.”

“No way.” Peter grinned. “They promoted you?”

“Kinda.” You waved your hand. “The last store manger went to jail for insider trading and I’m the only other employee over 18.”

“But still! I’m so proud of you.” He said and scooped you into a hug.

“You know, when they promoted me, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” You admitted. Peter pulled away to cup your face and smile at you.

“I’m honored. No one in this shamble of a store deserved it more than you.”

“I can make my own hours now because it’s my job to make the schedule. So let me know when you want to go on our first date that isn’t in a Dick’s sporting goods.” You smiled teasingly.

“I will.” He smiled back before getting serious. He blew out a breath and looked you in the eye.

“Dick’s girl, I have so enjoyed our time together. Would you maybe want to be my girlfriend maybe?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Maybe I would.” You shrugged. “But only if you never call me “Dick’s girl” again.”

“I can definitely do that.” Peter nodded and kissed you again. The kiss was interrupted by the sound of cops pulling up in front of the store.

“Cops are here. I gotta go.” Peter said apologetically and pulled his mask back on.

“Bye, Spiderman!” You waved at him as he walked towards the front door.

“Bye, Dick’s girl!” He shouted back before swinging off into the night.

“What did Spiderman just call you?” The police officer as he walked into the store.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure

@a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23

@geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow

@thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174

@unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl

@marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke  @thestylestour

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @parkerlovebot

[good-chimes]

Operational Log from the Government Institute for Ghost Supervision (G.I.G.S.):

AGENTS: “ImpulseSV”, “Skizzleman”, “Grian”, “GoodTimesWithScar”

SUPERVISOR: [Redacted]

[Impulse has submitted a request for ‘$2000’ for reason ‘Van’]

SUPERVISOR: Hi boys. Pleasure to be working with you. Can you give a better reason than ‘van’ for why you need two fucking thousand American dollars?

IMPULSE: Oh, sorry sir. We just need to replace some things in the van.

GRIAN: By which he means everything in the van.

SUPERVISOR: You lost ALL YOUR EQUIPMENT?

IMPULSE: You’re new, aren’t you, sir. Have you…met Scar?

SUPERVISOR: I have your personnel files. What does this have to do with Scar?

GRIAN: Oh, you’ll find out.

IMPULSE: Our last supervisor just sort of, uh, approved things. I’ve got receipts.

SKIZZ: We’re at the school, guys! Stop chatting and get in there!

IMPULSE: Gotta go!

[crackle]

GRIAN: Okay, so Scar, Impulse and Skizz are in the building. So far we’ve got the power turned on but no clues. There’s a spooky sort of bonfire in the main hall. Got skulls on it.

SCAR: I lit the bonfire!

GRIAN: Breaking news, Scar has lit the bonfire.

SUPERVISOR: Why did you light the bonfire!? You could draw the attention of a ghost!

GRIAN: Yeah, Skizz, why did you let Scar set something on fire? Pretty irresponsible.

SKIZZ: [noise of incoherent outrage] You try stopping him, buddy.

GRIAN: Can’t, I’m in the van. [further noise of outrage from Skizz]. Impulse is reporting EMF Level 5—didn’t anyone set up cameras? What kind of team doesn’t set up cameras? We’ve got a new supervisor to impress.

SUPERVISOR: Cameras should not be set up during a mission! You should have set them up in the daytime!

IMPULSE: We could use some cameras.

SKIZZ: GRIAN, YOU GET IN HERE, BUDDY.

GRIAN: Okay, okay, fine! I’ll get the cameras.

SUPERVISOR: Why are you risking the whole team in the building at the same—

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$5’ for reason ‘glowsticks’]

SUPERVISOR: Why on god’s green earth do you need glowsticks!?

SKIZZ: Scar, those don’t do anything.

SCAR: They keeps you safe from ghosts!

SKIZZ: What, because they’re too cool for raves?

SCAR: I want glowsticks or I’m resigning.

SUPERVISOR: You can’t resign in the middle of mission!

IMPULSE: Haunt! Everyone quiet!

SUPERVISOR: Wait, a real haunt? That’s highly dangerous! Get out!

[crackle]

IMPULSE: False alarm, that noise was Skizz and Scar frying hot dogs.

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$1’ for reason ‘needs salt’]

SUPERVISOR: Not approved! You’re not supposed to fry hotdogs on an eldritch bonfire!

SKIZZ: We were hungry!

GRIAN: Wait, you guys have hotdogs in there? I’m coming in.

IMPULSE: Oh, wait—wait—yep, there’s the haunt.

[crackle]

GRIAN: Well, Scar’s dead.

SUPERVISOR: Oh god! What!

IMPULSE: I was wondering why they didn’t get attacked. Just a slow ghost, I guess.

SUPERVISOR: An agent is dead and you’re joking!?

GRIAN: Oh, he’ll be fine.

SKIZZ: I got some tarot cards here.

SUPERVISOR: Don’t touch the cursed items! Find your colleague’s body!

[crackle]

SCAR: I hate all of you. You left me to die.

SUPERVISOR: What? Just a goddamn minute. That was a joke? Agent Scar is alive?

IMPULSE: Scar, buddy, cheer up.

SCAR: Grian shut a door in my face!

SUPERVISOR: One agent impeded another’s investigation?

SCAR: Yeah! I was impuded!

GRIAN: What! How is this my fault! A ghost was coming at me and I shut a door!

SCAR: And killed me!

GRIAN: That sounds like a you problem.

SCAR: Sir, I want to file a complaint. About Grian.

SUPERVISOR: Well, put in a placeholder and we’ll—

[Scar has submitted file ‘grain Complaint’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘Grian’s Official Resignation Letter’]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this sounds like it’s gotten heated, let’s take it offline. Agent Scar, we’ll look into this later. Agent Grian, put your resignation on hold.

IMPULSE: They do this a lot.

SKIZZ: It’s affection. You love each other.

SCAR: I love Grian not murdering me.

GRIAN: I love Scar saving me some hot dogs. Oh wait, he didn’t.

SKIZZ: C’mon, fellas, where’s this ghost?

IMPULSE: We gotta use some of these cursed items.

GRIAN: I vote Scar looks in the haunted mirror. Anyone else want to volunteer? No? See, vote carried.

[Scar has submitted file ‘Im Resigning’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘I’m Resigning HARDER’]

[Scar has submitted file ‘No your not’]

[Last 3 requests have been denied]

SUPERVISOR: How on earth do you work with them?

[Grian has submitted file ‘Turbo Resignation Letter’]

IMPULSE: Oh, me and Skizz have got a knack for it, sir. You just have to let them work it out. Or shut one of them up for the ghost to get.

[Last 1 request has been denied]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this is sounding like a really dangerous situation and I think you should get out of there. I’m calling a retreat.

SKIZZ: Gimme the mirror, I’ll try saying the ghost’s name.

SUPERVISOR: Did you hear me? Is this thing on? Saying the name is EXPLICITLY the one thing that is unsafe to do on missions!

GRIAN: Huh. Maybe we should have read the manual.

SKIZZ: Just let me do it, sir, we get results.  

SUPERVISOR: Are you four always like this?

IMPULSE: Oh, no. Usually these missions go much worse.

SUPERVISOR: No! No, nobody is looking in any cursed mirrors! I have eighty successful mission supervisions under my belt—

SCAR: Sounds uncomfortable.

SUPERVISOR: Our department has a clean record of no agent deaths—

GRIAN: Oh damn, I knew I should have submitted our reports.

SUPERVISOR: And I—What reports?

IMPULSE: Don’t tell him about the reports!

SUPERVISOR: Is this data right? You haven’t sent in a report in… five YEARS?

GRIAN: One thing and another, you know.

SUPERVISOR: No! Enough! You are the WORST team I have ever worked with and every practice you have is UNSAFE and I bet one of you is looking in the cursed mirror RIGHT NOW—

[crackle]

[crackle]

GRIAN: Scar’s dead again.

SUPERVISOR: [calming breath] Okay, you lot clearly have your jokes, like last time, but I need you to know that’s not funny.

GRIAN: I can get a picture of how he ragdolled. His head’s on backwards. It’s hilarious.

[Grian has submitted photo file lol.jpg]

SUPERVISOR: … That … that is a man who has been killed by a malevolent spirit! That spirit is deadly!

SKIZZ: Funny, the ones they send us on are always deadly.

IMPULSE: Get him back to the van.

SUPERVISOR: LEAVE IMMEDIATELY! I AM CALLING AN AMBULANCE!

IMPULSE: You don’t need to do that—

GRIAN: Hey! Dots! I just saw dots!

SKIZZ: Yes! Mark off dots!

IMPULSE: Sweet, we’ve got it! It’s a White Lady! Let’s go, guys!

SUPERVISOR: Is anyone listening? Is anyone listening to me?

[crackle]

SUPERVISOR: Come in. Come in.

SUPERVISOR: I know you’re driving back. Answer your goddamn radio.

SCAR: Well, hello there.

SUPERVISOR: This is very serious. I have to report Agent Scar’s death—Agent Scar? Is that you?

SCAR: The one, the only!

SUPERVISOR: You were dead!

SCAR: Oh, yeah, but then they brought me into the van and we left.

SUPERVISOR: How—what—

SCAR: I dunno, ask Impulse! I’m usually dead by this point.

SUPERVISOR: Agent Impulse! How!

IMPULSE: Me and Skizz have been doing this a long time, sir. Guess we’ve just got a knack.

SUPERVISOR: A knack for—a knack for—I’m going to get a drink.

SCAR: Toast our great success. Hey, hey, Grian, that’s my hot dog. I died for that hot dog!

GRIAN: You weren’t looking! Finder’s keepers!

IMPULSE: Careful of the wheel, guys, careful of the wheel—

SUPERVISOR: I’m never working with your team again!

SKIZZ: Yeah? I get ya, buddy. See you next week.

[zyafics]

play fake | part two

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

zya's notes instead of studying for my chem final, i was writing this for u guys, hope u like it! <3

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

You didn't want to ask Rafe for help.

You never like doing it in general. The concept is foreign to you and it makes your skin crawl with a sense of dread, but you were desperate.

He hasn't come back to your bar in a while; probably off finding a new replacement for a fake girlfriend. Before, you hadn't given it much thought. You did decline. However, now, you wish he hadn't found one yet. Now, the offer sounds appetizing given the situation you're in.

You need to get in contact with him. You knew that showing up to the Tannyhill estate would raise questions but you didn't know where he would be. An idea suddenly popped up in your head and you decided to scroll through social media and find the nearest Kook party. You found one, just uploaded fifteen minutes ago, at Topper's house.

Parking in the street, you stare at the party in full swing. It has been a while since you've been to a party—too focused on working full-time at Sailor and taking care of your siblings—and the idea of going in unnerves you. You were still in uniform, well, it's something you try to wear everyday to get tips. A simple black crop top and a mini skirt. You find it ironic that you were at least dressed for the part.

Leveling some confidence, you push open the creaky door of your old car and head inside. It is absolutely crowded with people, with girls and guys drinking and dancing outside in the yard, near the pool, on the porch. Your eyes glaze over every single one of them, trying to find the one person you hope would be here.

You find Rafe near the back porch of the mansion. He's with a couple of his buddies, Topper being among them, and a girl on his arm as he holds a beer with the same hand. You weren't surprised in the slightest. This was his plan after all. You were just surprised by the feeling in your stomach.

The lick of jealousy you didn't understand where it came from.

You step up. His friends were the first to notice you, scanning over your body that you wish you had worn a jacket over yourself. When you are just in front of him, his gaze finally focuses and meets your gaze.

"Can we talk?" You ask, sparing no attention to the girl on him.

He scoffs, "fuck off."

Of course he's going to be an asshole. You didn't bother with entertaining his comment by grabbing his arm, pulling him up. You knew you didn't have the strength to take him completely so you were pleasantly surprised when he assisted and got up. He even pushed the girl to the side as you dragged him off to somewhere quiet.

Well, as quiet as the live party can be.

"What do you want?"

His words are sharp and harsh, but you expected nothing less. You figured something happened—that's why he entertains his vices, right?—and plus, you told him that you wanted nothing to do with him. If anything, he has a bit of justification to be pissed.

But that doesn't mean you would accept it.

"I was going to talk to you about your offer, but seeing as you're being too much of an ass, I guess I should come back another time," you snap, turning around to head out because fuck him. You weren't going to take it. You had other things to do. You would be forgiving, perhaps, if he actually talked to you about his problem but to be a dick off the bat? Not a chance in hell.

"Wait," he grabs your arm before you move far and this contrasts the strength you hold. One hand and a lazy attempt to hold you in place. "What do you want?"

He said that somewhat nicer.

You turn back with a glare, contemplating what to do, before remembering what's at stake. You're already here. Might as well get it over with.

"I'll do it." You say, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. It’s so embarrassing to ask for help. It feels even more so to backtrack into something you said you couldn't—wouldn't—do. "Be your fake girlfriend, I mean."

The corner of his lips quirks into an amused smile. Even in his drunk state, where his blond hair is darkened from the humidity of the space and his eyes glossed over, you can't help but admit how attractive he is. "Couldn't stay away, could you?"

"I'm not trying to be the next Mrs. Cameron," you snap, feeling the need to clarify. "But, I do need the payout."

His eyes narrow. "Thought you didn't want it?"

"I don't," you answer. "It's something else."

He tilts his head to the side, studying you. "What?"

Sighing, you wished you could talk somewhere more private. But, this truly is the best place you can get him. "When you get your father's company and start doing all the Kook bullshit of hosting charity events, galas, and dinners, I want you to use Sailor as your drink caterer."

It sounded like a good deal when you thought of it. You didn't want the money because you don't know how long this little facade is going to last. You needed something stable. You need something that would benefit you in the long-run. Since Sailor has been slipping off the profit margins and you've been dealing with some trouble regarding its ownership, you figured the business from all the catering would boost it up. It would give you status and credit. It would benefit you long after this engagement with Rafe ends.

His eyes look thoughtful of the idea. You wonder how he's calculating, how he's weighing the options about whether to accept your negotiation or to decline—telling you he already found a replacement. You hope it wasn't the latter. You needed this.

"No."

You clench your jaw. Of course. The one time you sought out help, instead of cleaning up the mess yourself, you got shut down. It's embarrassing.

"Fine." You say, ripping your arm out of his grasp and heading straight to the exit. You want to leave as soon as possible and use the time you should've spent going here to actually come up with a solution. It was a wasted effort on your end. You make a mental note of that.

Just a few steps short of the exit, some guy nearby grabs your arm and holds you in place. "Where you going, pretty?" He slurs his words, his eyes cascading down your body that you wished you pulled down the length of your skirt. "I didn't get the chance to talk to you."

You try to rip your arm off of his but his grip is firm. "Leave me alone."

"Come on, pretty," he gets closer, his intoxication reeking from his breath that you had to turn your head to avoid the smell. "I can make you feel real good."

Your hand clenched by your side while the other places a palm directly on his chest, trying to place some distance between you and the stranger before you commit to your next move. "If you don’t leave me alone—"

It happened in a flash. One minute he's holding you, the second he's getting knocked back with a punch delivered straight on the mouth.

You look up to see Rafe, his knuckles clenched and redden while the beer he was cradling had dropped on the ground into a million broken pieces. His breathing heavy while his eyes are a little distant, lagged out.

"Rafe," you call out, but before he gets the chance to face you, the drunk stranger comes staggering back with a punch in return. The crowd gasps and quickly moves out of the way as a circle forms, Rafe and the man trading swings.

No one is helping them. No one is attempting to. Rafe is significantly more drunk than the stranger, his footing is slightly off, and the drunkard is getting in more decks on Rafe's face.

When Rafe tries to duck from a delivery, the guy does directly to his stomach and it causes him to topple over with a grunt.

Having enough, you step forward and grab the stranger's shoulder. He turns around with a look of confusion—just in time for you to deck him as hard as your hand can swing, right in the face.

"Shit!" You swear under your breath, the blow rippling back and returning straight to your fist, aching.

The stranger staggers back, his back hitting the floor while you grab Rafe. You don't know where you're going, you don't know the layout of this house, but pushing through the crowd, you find an empty bedroom and slam the door close with a lock.

Thankfully, it had a bathroom attached to it. You set Rafe on the mattress as you flick the lights on and search for the cabinets for any aid. Rafe's bottom lip is busted, there's a cut on one of his brows, and bruising forming against his jawline. You don't even want to think about the mess on his knuckles.

Finding a first aid kit, you step back to see Rafe laid out against the mattress, his eyes closed. You rush to his side, afraid he has a concussion and he's falling asleep.

"Rafe!" You shout, hitting his cheeks with the back of your hand in light taps, causing his eyes to flutter open. "You can't do that."

Willing himself back to a sitting position with your assistance, you set the first aid kit to the side as you attempt to help him. Using your hands to cradle his face, you assess the damages.

"Where'd you learn to punch like that?" He asks, the heat of his gaze follows you as you remove your touch.

You shrug. "You need to learn two things growing up in The Cut," you hold up a finger, "how to deliver a good right hook,"

You pause for a moment.

Impatiently, he prompts. "And?"

You hold up his gold signet ring and his watch. "How to take advantage of a drunk."

He scoffs, snatching his things out of your grasp as you laugh, releasing some tension in your shoulders. "Pogue." He sneers.

"Kook." You retort, but there's a lightness in your tone.

Rafe says nothing as you return to your search through the aid kit. When you find what you were looking for, you start on his face, first cleaning the cut around his brow.

He hisses at the sting, but allows you to continue. It was an awkward position to be in, sitting beside him as you try to clean the damage, and he must've noticed how irritated you were getting with his constant shifts away from the pain. Without a word, he grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap with one swoop, both legs on either side of his waist as his hands settle on the small of your back.

"Better?" He questions, raising a brow.

You don't say anything, attempting to adjust your skirt rising up to your hips, before you nod.

Cleaning the wound, you tilt your head to examine what your next step should be. It's hard to figure out because the bruise is slowly forming and while the cut may be small right now, it's going to be nasty tomorrow.

To ease some tension of the silence, you prompt with a conversation. "You got into another fight with your dad?"

He stiffens under you, clenching his jaw. "What makes you say that?"

You feel his eyes trained on your face, but you refuse to acknowledge it. "Because you're out here getting drunk instead of getting wasted at my bar."

Rafe smirks. "Miss me?"

"No, it was good for business." You say, matter-of-fact, and the look on his face dies off. You feel guilty. Adding on, you rectify, "and, you would've had someone to talk to. I don't think the people around here are offering that."

He says nothing, watching you work. You exchanged the bloodied pads for some ointment.

"It's just about Sarah again." He mutters, almost like he didn't want you to hear but knowing you would. "Same shit. Same golden child."

You nod, finally flicking your gaze down to his. His blue eyes are so prominent now, so clear, you wonder if you could get lost in them.

Rafe doesn't disclose any details like he normally does. When he goes on long tangents about the problem. It must've been bad. So, you lower your hand and cup his face, tilting his face to meet yours. "Want to talk about it?"

He swallows hard. "I don't want to talk."

"What do you want to do?"

"Fuck." He answers without a thought, the ability to shift into a fuck-mode is easier than digesting his feelings. You laugh, inappropriately, dropping your hand from his cheeks. You're about to push yourself off his lap—having bandaged him up—and let him go find his next hookup, but his grip on your waist tightens.

He doesn't say anything with that move, and you tilt your head at him.

"I thought I was below your level?" You tease.

"Yet, you're sitting on my dick right now," he says, eyes following yours. "What do you think that means?"

While you're not directly on him, you can feel his hard-on swelling under his pants, lightly grazing against your core, and causing a small ache between your legs.

"That you're horny enough to go for a Pogue."

He scoffs, lowering his hands to your ass and palms the flesh. Your eyes flutter close at the moment. "Who knew you were hiding such a nice body behind that counter?"

"You just haven't been paying attention."

"I am now."

His hands lowering to your hips, slowly pulling you down his lap, realigning your cunt until it sits directly on top of his zipper. He leans forward, his hot mouth against your ear. "If I tell you to grind on me, would you do it?"

You place a hand on his chest, trying to ease some space between the two of you, but your attempt was weak. Some part of you didn't want to leave.

"You're pushing it."

"What if I told you it would make me feel better?" He whispers, his fingers trailing up your skirt, against your bare thighs, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "That you can consider it part of your deal."

Your breath hitch in surprise. "You're saying yes?"

"I was going to," he pulls back to meet your face, "but you ran away."

"You said no to me," you remind him.

"To rile you up," he says, like an asshole, and you scoff. "Didn't think you would just leave like that."

"Maybe you should give me clear answers then."

"Fine," his breath is right in front of yours. "I want you to ride me."

Your eyes trail his face, your hands finding his shoulders. You know you shouldn't. You know if this is supposed to be fake, why do you feel a deep, carnal urge for him. If this happens, it opens the door to other things. But, something in you softens. He did get a bruise for you. He did defend you. He's in pain and you're in need.

Maybe you could use each other.

Slowly, your hips roll against his. The look on his face hints at surprise that you took the bait and causes you to smirk, gripping his shoulders harder when you find the hard cock lined against your panties. You press down.

"Fuck," he groans raspily, "just like that."

The praise lights something in you. "Like that?" You repeat, pushing yourself against his jeans, rubbing up and down, that you can feel him grow harder and harder against the seams of his pants. He nods shakily. "Is it making you feel better, baby?"

He knows you're taunting him, using his words, but he fucking loves it. You're listening. For once, you're not actively trying to spite him and knock back—but willing, to him.

"That's right," he compliments, his gaze following your body as you are starting to find a rhythm against him. Your movements are getting sloppier. "Just what I need. A Pogue who listens to whatever I fucking say."

You nod vigorously, feeling your wetness growing against your panties, drenching the material enough to leak through and rub off against the front of his pants.

"God, look at you," he muses in your ear, glancing down, and a chuckle leaves his throat. "You made such a mess."

"Feel so good," you moan, you tip your head back as the friction of his jeans feels incredibly perfect against your swollen clit.

"Come on, sweetheart," his grip around your waist tightens, afraid with the way you're moving, you're going to fall off. "Ride me."

You follow his direction, quickening your pace as low groans and rasps leaves his lips at the sensation you're making him feel. The sound is like drugs to you, fueling you, because you want to desperately help him arrive at his own climax.

You wrap both your arms around his neck, grinding ruthlessly against his lap. Leaning forward, you dip your face into the crook of his neck. "Come on, Rafe," you whisper into his ear, closing into your own orgasm. "Come for me."

As you came with a moan, your movements didn't stop. Your legs ache, begging to stop, but you want him to get there too.

"Fuck, fuck," he moans at your aggression, at how hard you're pressed against him, moving against him, it's a mesmerizing sight. "I'm coming."

You feel it against your core. The subtle twitch of his dick under the jeans. The faint wetness under you, mixed with your own cum, produces a small smile against your lips.

You slow your grind, pulling back, just to meet his eyes clearing from their post-orgasmic haze, and his grip has weakened significantly around your body. When you stop completely, you push yourself off of him, finding your feet on solid ground with wobbly legs.

"Better?" You tease, to which he nods weakly through heavy-lids. With a satisfied smile, you turn around and head for the door.

"I'll see you on our first date." 

— read part three —

i'm trying my best w this taglist istg tumblr tags hates me taglists: @quicksilversg1rl / @uraesthete / @maybankslover / @trshngyn / @irides-solstice / @kur0obaby / @groovycass / @emmalandry / @outlawedmando / @ditzyzombiesblog / @mattyskies / @sunshinepanic / @too-deviant / @rafesgiirl / @rivaiken / @ficluvr / @bunniii-98 / @vvvhack @babygoddam / @cami-is-reading / @peachesmilk / @whore4fictionalman / @artemiswinnick / @janediazwindsor / @pandora-rosier1 / @solanathascientst / @ditzyzombiesblog / @itshellie / @grace-sully / @loveyouok / @tayrcse / @mysteris-things / @ella131989 / @starrkissezz / @sanriobuny / @alyssax25 / @chopshopcheesecake

[night-raven-tattler]

Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?

Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.

Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail

You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened

But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all

He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other

Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino

And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby

And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state

"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."

Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes

"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."

You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you

"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."

Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking

Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.

"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."

Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot

To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away

All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape

And he stared right back at you

Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."

You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him

...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek

He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face

"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."

That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat

『••✎••』

Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs

Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus

Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd

They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures

Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself

They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer

Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will

You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all

After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring

He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you

"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."

You stared at Jade suspiciously

Was he handing you a shirt just like that?

He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth

"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"

No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective

"What? No! That's not it!"

"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"

"I- no! Ugh!"

Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin

"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"

Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense

"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."

"..."

"..."

"...Are you sure?"

"Certainly."

You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it

Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome

"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."

"As you wish."

So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face

You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform

『••✎••』

Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining

He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word

Or every word that you could understand, at least

And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel

So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves

"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"

Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"

While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes

"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"

The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively

"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."

A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside

"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."

"What about cleaning duty?"

"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."

After Epel's convincing, you relented

But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...

Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....

Epel did not talk to you the next day

Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets

When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens

"I hate you."

That was all he said before walking away

『••✎••』

During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather

1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard

2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain

3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof

Neither was your shirt

So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet

You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror

His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament

"...Child of man? What happened to you?"

You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already

"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.

Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend

He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached

"Allow me to help you."

You sighed of relief at his decision

Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help

You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell

Boy were you wrong.

Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind

The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place

You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors

You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard

After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again

"That... That certainly was a method of helping."

"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."

He smiled proudly at you

It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise

You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry

"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"

"You are very welcome."

His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room

The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce

After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face

『••✎••』