#Quinn not recognizing where they're headed

[luvhughes43]

BOYFRIEND | quinn hughes

[MASTERLIST]

based off the song boyfriend by ariana grande

summary: every summer without fail you and quinn fall back into old habits... you two aren't official but the feelings are there.

word count: 3.4k

this is a repost !

i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck i don't wanna be too much but i don't wanna miss your touch and you don't seem to give a fuck

all of your life you had four loves. there was shitty reality television, your home state-michigan, your summers at your familys lake house, and then there was quinn hughes.

you had always loved him even if you hadn't recognized it yourself. back then, both of your parents would make little comments about how they're going to end up together one day! but when you stayed in michigan and quinn moved to vancouver everything changed.

when quinn left school to pursue hockey you assumed that your friends with benefits situation would fizzle out. but it hadn't. and so youre left wanting as you watch the brunet boy trapeze around his backyard - greeting boys he'd seen countless times over the hockey season while you were stuck at school.

when you finally do catch this eye, he waltz over with a shit-eating grin. "hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he teases, pulling you under his impressive arm. you stumble into his side with practice ease and quinn tilts his head to look down your solo cup. "the fuck is that?"

you hold the cup over your head to where you assumed his lips would be, "i dont know jack made it - 'could be anything,"

quinn reaches for the cup and takes a measured sip. "that'll kill you," he winces, spilling the cups contents on the grass and tossing the cup along with it.

you sigh, peeved. quinn did this thing where he assumes he knows what's best. "i was actually drinking that,"

"yeah, yeah, i'll get you something else," he says distractedly as someone from across the yard flags him down.

just as quinns about to leave again you grab his arm and pull him back to you. even though you're embarrassed to ask you lower your voice and whisper, "when am i going to see you again?"

quinn pauses. "like, are we gonna..."

you remain silent, not wanting to say what you truly want. it was easier to hint at your forays instead of being honest about things. "i'll catch up with you tonight, promise" he kisses the underside of your wrist before shouting playfully to someone in the distance.

i don't wanna keep you waiting but i do just what i have to do and i might not be the one for you but you ain't about to have no boo

an hour later you wander inside the boy's house to grab yourself a refill. there was still no sign of quinn - and so you decide to unwind a little bit before the night truly got underway. every year the guys would host a party to reign in the end of the season. guys from across the country would travel and spend a week in michigan celebrating with packs of zyns, cases of beer, and endless rounds of golf.

"zyn?" trevor zegras says as he holds out a small white pouch towards you. you shake your head no and trevor shoves the circular box back into his short pockets.

"i heard he's single," a girl to your left whispers loudly to a group of her friends. trevors head turns instinctively,but you pay the group of girls no attention.

"ten bucks they're talking about me," trevor leans down and whispers.

"twenty bucks they're not," you announce back and then the two of you messily shake on it. you probably shouldn't have gone to jack for a refill on his concoction but quinn was taking too long so...

"well quinns hot so if he is single, i'll try it," you're not sure what it was exactly but your face heats up regardless. beside you, trevor groans and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket.

youre pretty sure he tries to hand you a wad of crumpled up ones but you were no longer paying attention to trevor or your bets. instead, your focus shifted to a gorgeous blonde hyping herself up to go and talk to your best friend.

'cause I know we be so complicated but we be so smitten, it's crazy i can't have what I want, but neither can you

"alright... i know they're wrinkled but cash is legal tender..." trevor trails off obnoxiously and thus you grab hold of his ten dollars clenching your fist.

"i'll see you later?" you call out distractedly, solely focused on the blonde approaching quinn across the room.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody

it was wrong to use others for personal gain but you were sure there had to be an exception for making somebody jealous. plus, it wasn't like quinn was a saint either.

you vividly remember how quinn chatted up some girl in your class two years ago at a frat party. it was a shitty thing to do, considering how much you complained about that particular girls work ethic after she left you hanging on a group project.

the next morning, quinn had stopped by your apartment to apologize with a bouquet of peonies in hand. you had reluctantly forgiven him, but because the two of you weren't exactly exclusive the fight dissolved on your tongue before you could even properly fight about it.

"hey baby," you tease all your syllables - making sure the baby really rings out in tune. quinns smile doesn't falter at your emergence, instead, he grins as his attention turns from the blonde and onto you.

"y/n," he glances between you and the new girl. you'd have to work for his attention a little more than you'd like to tonight. "as i was saying..." quinn resumes his conversation with the girl slowly, trying his hardest to piss you off.

a tuft of dark black hair peeks it's way through your peripheral and your head immediately turns to find alex turcotte standing alone a few feet away. "turcs!" you call out in the same teasing tone you'd used on quinn and alexs attention is immediately focused on you.

"baby!" he yells jovially, and you could not have planned something better yourself. baby, was a nickname assigned to you after a particular summer in which you were obsessed with dirty dancing. you had pranced around the house to its soundtrack and forced anybody who was around to dance with you - all embarrassingly bad imitations of patrick swayze.

you dont turn to acknowledge quinns reaction but you imagine it as you sway your way over to alex. quinns face would be scrunched up in annoyance, and his eyes would darken just a tad to accompany his scowl. if there was one thing quinn hated more than he liked teasing you, it was you teasing him back.

"so strong!" you laugh loudly, gripping onto alex's arm. his hand brushes across your lower back and you smile brightly when he leaves it resting there.

"you really know how to work a guy, huh?" he laughs before removing his hand altogether. "what are you drinking?" he asks then, shifting tones dramatically from flirtatious to friends-since-childhood.

"i don't know jack made it," you hold the cup up to his face and he recoils with a scuff.

"you're going to be so sick tomorrow,"

you take a sip of your drink before glancing back in quinns direction. his dark eyes were still trained on you but the blonde was still at his side. flirting with alex was truly petty. both you and quinn knew nothing would ever come of it but it was still fun to get him riled up anyway.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"want to get me something else?" you ask with a soft voice and you hope it carries to where quinns standing.

alex looks at you momentarily before shaking his head quickly. "uh, yeah, yeah let's go to the kitchen..." you take the lead in your venture to the kitchen and alex slinks his arm around your waist.

you barely make it out of the living room before quinn interrupts your path. "hey man, its been awhile," his smile is strained as he reaches a hand out to alex. the two greet each other and the flashes of disappointment on quinns face is evident when alex doesnt take his arm away from your body.

"where ya two heading?" he asks.

alex hits his solo cup against yours and a slosh of molten liquid rolls over the rim of your cup and onto your new white shoes. "this one needs a new drink. jack made her another one his his "concoctions,"" alex laughs easily but quinns face is entirely tense.

you stay silent.

"oh, i can take her," quinn says with a slight edge.

"it's no worries i can do it," alex assures him with a small smile. "i think jacks in the kitchen and i wanna say hello," he adds when quinn makes no move to back down.

"uh, i just saw him go outside actually," quinn states and you wonder if you should interrupt.

the two boys stare at each other tensely and alex drops his hand from your waist. "i'll see you later baby?" alex mutters lowly, and your head spins from whatever moment you just missed right there.

you nod dismissively to alex and watch in silence as he rapidly walks out of the living room. "what was that for?" you ask quinn as soon as you turn to face him. as expected, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his face show small signs of annoyance.

"you need a drink," is all quinn responds with, and you follow behind him slowly as he maneuvers his way through small crowds of people.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

your vodka cranberry was slowly spilling its contents onto quinns hardwood floor as it lay discarded.

"your floors getting all wet," you mumble against quinns lips the second the two of you pull apart. his hair was messy and his cheeks flush when he notices you staring.

"dont care," he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his own. "'been too long sine i've seen you last,"

you kiss his neck teasingly, "the wood will get ruined,"

quinn sighs and pulls away from you. he strips his shirt off and lets it fall atop your discarded solo cup. his confidence was something that had grown over the years and you were pleasantly delighted.

"thank you," you whisper to him as he slides his arms back against you. you wait for him to say something - mention what happened downstairs but quinn remains silent.

instead, he leads you backwards to his bed with well practiced ease. the games you two play were fun when they ended up like this, but at the same time you felt a twinge for something more.

even though you ain't mine, i promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love 'cause baby, when push comes to shove damn baby, i'm a train wreck, too (too) i lose my mind when it comes to you i take time with the ones I choose and I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah

the sun streams through quinns open curtains, blinding him momentarily as his eyes adjust to the morning light. when everything comes into focus the first thing he notices is your figure curled up on the other side of his bed like a cat. quinn stretches and despite the brief disturbance your eyes stay firmly closed.

downstairs the house was a mess. empty bottles and cups littered the wood floors and empty food wrappers crinkle uncomfortably under quinns tired feet.

"morning," jack says as soon as his older brother steps into the dimly lit kitchen. jacks sandy hair is tousled and if his undereye bags were any indication of how he was feeling... it was clear that he was unwell.

"you look like shit," quinn chuckles as he tosses jack a bottle of aspirin.

"gee, thanks." jack rolls his eyes but pops a pill nonetheless.

quinn fixes himself some toast and the two brothers sit in comfortable silence.

"where's yn," jack asks, nursing a yellow gatorade.

"sleeping,"

jack hums in acknowledgement. he stares inquisitively at his brother - silently hinting at what's going on between the blurred lines of quinns and yns relationship, but quinn ignores him.

i know we be so complicated lovin' you sometime drive me crazy 'cause i can't have what I want and neither can you

late the next afternoon after tirelessly scrubbing down the floors and tossing out empty cans, the group of hockey players and friends make their way onto the lake.

as always, quinn drives and docks the boat in the middle of the lake so the group could swim and yn could suntan on the hard, white seats of the boat.

quinn wasnt an idiot. he knew that his best friend was hot. the stolen glances and not-so-subtle double takes weren't lost on him as his friends ogled her. she was undeniably gorgeous and someday their relationship wouldn't be enough anymore. she would eventually want more, and quinn wasn't sure he'd be able to give her a relationship she deserved from two thousand miles away.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and i don't want you to see nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

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yourusername daydreamin' 🧸

"what's the deal with yn and quinn anyway? have they always been so... intense?" alexander holtz asks between shooting pool.

jack sighs, "yeah theyre always like that. i wish they'd just get over whatever they've got going on and get together already. its honestly painful to watch," jack jokes tensely.

alex tuts, "i wish she were available"

another guy hums, "she's a total smoke show,"

"ew, shes like our sister," luke pipes up.

"your sister maybe," someone laughs. "she ain't mine,"

quinn silently turns away from the rec room to find you.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"hey," you smile sweetly at quinns presence. he stares at you simply before sitting down on the decksteps next to you. he frowns when you set your book down beside you and you press your knee to his in an attempt to calm him. "what's wrong?"

quinn sighs deeply. "i just - i dont know. what are we doing?"

"what do you mean?" you ask even though you know where this conversation is heading.

quinn gestures between the two of you, "we've... things are different now,"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, genuinely taken off guard. "if this is about the party...?"

"we'd be an awful couple," quinn cuts in.

"who called us a couple?,"

"look, you're going to want more eventually and-"

you scoff. "are you going to actually talk to me? because i'm fine with out arrangement," you lie.

quinn stares at you with an unreadable expression. "look, it's not going to work"

"did the guys say something to you?" you bite. you reach your hand out to quinn but he pushes it away.

"no. i just don't think us being... involved... is a good idea anymore,"

"'involved'" you say sarcastically. you've been hooking up for three years now.

quinn stands up suddenly, "yeah. it's over - i'm over it,"

"okay?" youre defiant. "don't come begging to me when you see me with another guy - or when you need a quick lay. god, youre such an asshole!"

i wanna kiss you (yeah), don't wanna miss you (yeah) but i can't be with you 'cause i got issues yeah, on the surface, seem like it's easy careful with words, but it's still hard to read me

quinn didn't know why he shut everything down. he didn't want to - not really anyway. it was all so stupid and he shouldn't have reacted at all.

Stress high when the trust low (mmm) Bad vibes, where'd the fun go? (Oh) Try to open up and love more (love more) Try to open up and love more

the two friends move around each other awkwardly and the tension in the house was palpable. you start to skip out on summer activities, and quinn no longer seems to enjoy driving out into the lake when you were no longer sitting by his side. everything felt wrong.

If you were my boyfriend If you were my girlfriend I probably wouldn't see nobody else But I can't guarantee that by myself

"you know what, i'm glad we decided to all us quits. you were totally right! we wouldnt have made a good couple - you probably wouldnt have stopped seeing other people," your tone is scorching as you finally catch quinn alone.

"yeah well considering your track record you'd probably have gotten with somebody else before i even boarded my flight back to van," quinns quick to defend himself - leaving you reeling.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you seethe, letting all your emotions wash over you at once.

"alex, that guy from u of m, the fucking football player!" quinn stresses the names of the last two, knowing those were the guys you hooked up while you were both at school.

you throw your arms up in the air, "you are such a hypocrite! do you know that? like seriously. lets not go tit for tat here quinn because trust i'll win every time,"

"everything always a game with you,"

you stare at him blankly. "what are we doing then? you told me the jealously was fun, you were the one who led me to your bed last week! you didn't want to get into a relationship in a first place!"

"so did you! don't spin this back on me!"

"i never said that!" you yell, "and i never got with alex,"

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, I ain't your girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else (nobody) And I don't want you to see nobody

"you might as well be," quinn tries to bait you but you dont respond.

tears well up in your eyes, "you said you didn't see us being in an actual relationship"

at the sight of your tears quinn starts to backtrack. "im sorry-"

"no, i started all this," you say, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. "i'm sorry for getting mad at you - i'm done,"

"what do you mean youre done?" quinn responds, following behind you as you walk back into the lake house. as soon as the sliding door slams shut heads turn towards the two of you.

"you said you were done and i agree," you say simply, tears threatening to spill over as you catch sight of luke staring at you in confusion.

without another word you storm up the stairs and begin packing your suitcase.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you know you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah, mmm) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody (oh yeah)

your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you drive the fifteen minute trip to your parents house. it was over, finally over between the two of you.

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else And I don't want you to see nobody

a week went by, and everybody presses quinn on why you left.

"i don't know guys, stop asking me about it," his answer stays the same, although his undereyes get considerably darker as the days go by.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

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yourusername baby loves 🎧

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yourfriend baby loves im tryna talk to youuuuu

yourusername theres a boy ! and i dont quite know... what to dooo

_alexturcotte stunner ⚡️

user01 did u and quinn have a fight or something ? why did u guys unfollow each other lololll

user05 literal princess !!!

user11 quinn unfollowed and alex commenting... 👀

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_quinnhughes summa with the brothers 🤟

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trevorzegras #Aesthetic

user08 no mention of yn... were cooked

user15 first summer photo numb in yearrrssss where yn didnt make a feature... 🫣👀

────୨ৎ──── ended insanely abruptly but i wanted to post something for u guys today😭

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[practically-an-x-man]

Saw trap maze ask for Kat and Quinn?

Oooh thank you!!

horror themed writing ask game

🪚 - what would happen if you put two of your characters in a saw trap maze together?

Now, this is an extremely horror-nerd answer, but... I'm not entirely sure what "saw trap maze" is meant to refer to. I mean, there's a lot of traps in SAW, and a lot that involve two people - is this the bathroom in the first movie? The "pound of flesh" in Saw VI? The "love triangle" from Saw 3D? There's... a lot of choices.

But for the sake of the question, I'll just talk about their general mental states and approaches, regardless of the specific trap.

Quinn is very pragmatic, and isn't afraid of pain. In her mind, she's in this strange paradox where she has nothing left to lose but her life, so she will fight through the traps without much extraneous stalling or freaking out. I mean... cut off her foot? Pound of flesh? Fighting for survival? She's already fallen off a building and had more than her fair share of pain, so there's not much left to lose. They're very pragmatic, shockingly level-headed even in their fear, but also more likely to prioritize their own survival in a "one or the other" situation.

Katherine is effectively the opposite. She can handle stressful situations when it comes to others, but she's got a much higher fear of pain and death when it comes to herself. She'd be the type who can't get her head on straight once she's told about the trap/task she must complete, and probably would run down her time just because she can't get her fear under control. However, she's clever, and potentially has magic on her side - if she can calm herself down with enough time to spare, she might still have the resolve to make it out alive. And in a "one or the other" situation, she wouldn't immediately give herself up by any means, but she'd struggle with the idea of condemning another person to die: not total self-sacrifice, but passivity and morality that would probably lead to Katherine drawing the short straw.

And as for how they'd work together... Quinn doesn't always play well with others, but they recognize when the stakes are high. They probably wouldn't be friends outside the trap, but they could certainly lock in and work together in the name of survival.

[mysticstarlightduck]

🧢 share a snippet about clothes

Thank you for the Ask, @clairelsonao3!

I have some snippets that mention clothes, and though they're not necessarily the main focus clothes certainly play an important role in starting these interactions. I chose two:

(Misunderstandings at the Imperial Masquerade. A bittersweet snippet from Luciya's POV)

They walked into the Great Hall, where the festivities of the week were about to start. Tonight, the Glimmering Waltzes would be the talk of the Capital.

Luciya groaned. “I look like a baby pigeon that fell from a tree. I mean - look at this dress, it’s not even fitted. I’m sure Lady Avaline chose this as a cruel joke, because nothing explains this.” She pouted, looking down at her wonky and bland grey dress and pointing at her unimpressive mask.

Still, she looked just like any of the other maids in the castle, which had technically been her unwanted occupation for a couple of years now. It was supposed to be a good thing, no one could recognize or catch her in this costume, but she still envied those who actually got to enjoy the finest of the festivities she used to dream about. 

“On the bright side, you won’t have everyone looking at your every move like hungry vultures. I feel like a damn preened peacock”  Quinn chuckles, gesturing to all of him. It seemed like there wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t covered in the burdensome myriad of shimmering jewelry that adorned his flowy and gold-trimmed silk clothes. A walking gemstone. 

“You do have a point, but at least you get to look I don't know, pretty.”

The words soured as soon as she spoke them, and Luciya wished she could take them back. She had meant them as a compliment - just hadn’t realized soon enough that she’d chosen the worst one. It’s that specific word, Luciya scolded herself, she should’ve chosen anything else. Quinn blinked a couple times, before he quickly shook his head. He tried to laugh it off, but he had gone paler than the statues around the now bustling great hall.

Pretty thing. She suddenly recalled what Quinn patrons had often called him.

Luciya grimaced, hating herself even more as she remembered that. How could she have forgotten? She had accidentally all but rubbed salt in that fresh wound. More than nothing, she wanted to take her careless previous comment back before she even said it.

“It would seem so,” Quinn answered her previous comment, barely audible through the masquerade’s rising music. The faint touch of bitterness in his voice faded away into a sigh as straightened his posture, placing the party’s golden mask, that had been chosen for him, over his expertly expressionless face. Before she could fix her mistake, her friend continued with his trademark carefully crafted smile.

“Anyways, the party is about to start,” Quinn said out loud, words perfectly smooth despite her recent slip-up. He continued, lowering his voice so that only she could hear what he was about to say. “If our friend’s plan is going to work, this is as perfect of a time as we’re ever going to get. When the masquerade reaches its peak, you’ll slip away to the gardens, unseen. You get to the gardens, give Cassander the information, get that scroll in return, and come back before the last song ends. The Emperor wants the masquerade to last until dawn, so I don’t believe timing will be much of a problem for us.”

Right, there was no time to wallow in feelings or how they looked, Luciya reminded herself. They had work to do, and there were lives on the line. She nodded. 

“I know a small hallway that leads down the palaces. It’s only ever used by the nobles - and the occasional servant - but now that they’re all here, the hallway should be empty. I’ll get in and get out before the songs even finish.”

Quinn nodded at her, a mix of satisfaction and worry where his eyes peeked through the mask. He turned to walk away with a playful flourish. “And I’ll make sure to put up a good show.”

He smirked, and turned away, smoothly walking to his assigned seat at the high tables. 

A curious realization (A snippet from Darian's POV)

Darian could almost feel Seira staring at him but said nothing until his curiosity got the better of him. "What are you doing?" Darian asked, amusedly.

Seira, patted her chin, pensively, before pointing at his cape as they walked.

"Darian, I'm pretty sure my uncle made that cloak." She paused, tugging at the fabric so that she could pull one of the edges closer to her eyes, and hummed. "Yeah, it even has his signature stitch pattern on the velvet trim. Interesting."

Darian huffed out a chuckle. "Wait, are you serious? Let me see." He leaned closer to the edge of the cloak she was holding up, finally recognizing the patterns. "I'll be damned... I never even realized that."

"Well, well, well, would you look at that," Seira smiled warmly, throwing an arm over her friend's shoulder "It seems our Rebel Boy got clothes made by the finest and most highbrow tailor in all of the Free Realms."

She laughed. "Oh, I would pay to see the look on his face if my uncle ever found out the rebel heir was his number one client. Oh, that would've been precious to witness."

Darian looked at her, a sly smirk on his face as he giggled.

"What can I say, I am a man of good tastes."

Seira shook her head playfully. "I'm glad to see you haven't changed a bit in the past three years."

In front of them, Lukan looked over his shoulder, almost stumbling into a moving cart. "Would you two focus? You're going to make me make a wrong turn and lose the address - and then we'll have a real problem on our hands. Be more careful and less loud."

Darian felt Seira snort out a laugh. "Since when did you get so bossy, Luk?" She asked playfully, though Darian noticed her moves becoming more cautious, like Lukan had suggested.

Lukan didn't turn around. "Ever since you dragged me into this city which I'd rather forget." The mercenary answered drily, before looking around, talking to himself. "... Now if we continue through here - No, wait, there. Yeah, that's it. How can one place change so much in so few years, my Gods...?"

Seira nudged Darian, who was staring concernedly at their unwitting guide's struggle to figure out where they should go from here. "Don't worry, he usually gets it right after a few tries - well most of the time."

[pepsiwriteswords]

Hihihi! Took me more than a week, I'm sorryyy, but I'm here with prompt(s)!

For Disconnected, cause I'm writing and rereading old letters and I now have Anaya brainrot. 👍 And I actually realize I have no clue how to write prompts so… Umm… Hope this is something..?

How would Anaya feel about AIs like Cortana or Ciri? And/or if there are true commercial AIs in her world, how would she treat them?

Also, a more open ended prompt if it's better

Highway feelings for any character

Alright, diving back to letter writing!

<3

Mara!! Time is fake, it's all good. Also it took me like, a week to actually work on answering this (& I still haven't even started my letter back to you >.>) & it sat in my drafts for like, 2 more still incomplete, so I cannot throw stones, here. xP Mostly I'm just amused that I got your letters & this ask on the same day. xD

(For the record, though, I fully intend to work on my letter to you soon - I am just Tired Always & also we're moving so. Might be a minute!)

(idk how to write prompts either. mad respect for the people behind all those prompt accounts bc omg.)

Ooh, the cyborg android daughter!! Also the fact that I have apparently talked enough about any of my characters for anyone other than myself to have character-specific brainrot is just. Thank you. :)

Now, android daughter & AI!

Hmm. I honestly have no idea & that might partially be bc I don't have an iphone to ask Siri a couple questions to see how she responds & I don't use & have never used Cortana/Bixby/the Google assistant on any phone or computer I've ever owned.

No, wait, I guess I have one thing: I think she'd mostly be confused by them? Not necessarily their purpose or anything like that, but by the fact that like. Humans made an AI that could answer questions & like. Use google for them, then just. Stopped there. Like, in a world where Anaya exists & might not be that unique a creation, the existence of AIs that are still programmed to have like, 3 ways of responding to a question would be ... baffling to her, I think. Like, you ask Siri a question, you get 'sorry, I don't understand, please try again', 'here is every article google brings up when you search that' & sometimes she just tells you. Yeah, she has a couple somewhat snarky or sassy answers for like, zero divided by zero or whatever, but when you ask her those questions, it's always the same answer, word for word. Anaya would just be wondering what the point of that is, when clearly humans have figured out the answer to real, actual, can-identify-themselves-in-a-mirror AI coding/programming/whatever the appropriate word is there. Of course, she'd still be polite when she talked to them. Manners, after all. & there'd probably still be some sort of like. Feeling of kinship there.

Kind of a bonus answer: This question has made me realize that Disconnected & Distant Light could actually take place at the same time (& possibly at least one shared location -- there is nothing in my worldbuilding so far that states Anaya & co are on Earth...) & there's an AI character in Distant Light. And I think Anaya & Test would get along fantastically. (I really don't know that much about Test, & honestly, brain has not been on enough to work out how Anaya being an android might change her character. >.> It's just. Vibes. Snarky AI who has been very not-sheltered meets a snarky-but-fairly-naive android who's been both incredibly sheltered & like. Y'know. Subject to Gideon's terrible-awful-rich-mad-scientist energy for ... idk how long yet. Also just. Anaya, chose her name, covering herself in she/her pronoun pins & bi pride stuff & Test_0374, let the human that built it choose its name, knows about human sexualities & Gender Stuff but has no interest in partaking itself, has stuck with it/its pronouns the whole time it's been active ... Just. I forsee some great interactions. xP

And okay! I give! The universe doesn't want me to write right now! Once I actually thought about that second prompt for a minute, my brain was like, 'yes, I can vibe with that' & gave me ideas for like. The Black Witch & Styx. Can I put any of those into actual words, though? Nope! Quinn & Blair were gonna have a conversation about magic & the shitty things that happened to them when they were kids & their separation. And Victor was gonna meet Styx & text Natacha & it was maybe gonna be like, the beginning of that story but.

-_- I miss writing. But I also want to stop holding this hostage in my drafts so. Um.

I'm gonna tuck that highway feelings in a mental back pocket & maybe start trying to work on Styx & TBW, though.

[indouloureux]

could i pls request a joe quinn x famous!reader where they were both in stranger things together and were dating irl but reader broke up with him. and maybe they see eachother at the premiere party and he wants her back

thank you for the request! <3

you should have expected this.

he worked with you. he's obviously going to attend given that his role's a bit bigger than yours. so how come you're shocked to see his his in the middle of the tumultuous crowd, wide eyes locking into yours and a saddened smile?

like two lost lovers stuck between chaos, locking eyes since they've broken each other's hearts, hearts beating in the temptation to give in into each other's arms and forget that the pain they've caused have ever existed as you both stand immobile between the partying people; feeling as if everything has fallen and you're both left falling in the air. like the feeling you've felt when falling in love for the first time.

except this isn't the first time, more like a wave of past damage tackling over you and filling your head of the words you had exchanged that night — with the pained tears in his eyes and the tight pang in your chest as you both realized that you were right, and he had to look for the mistake himself this time.

joseph has his hands in his pockets, the smile faltering before he removes a hand and waves them to you. unable to act cold, you return the greeting before your feet take you away into the backdoors, searching for the cigarette pack in your pocket.

you take it out, shaking fingers placing the cigar between your lips and struggling to open the lighter. the spark wheel refusing to ignite the awaiting tobacco filler no matter how much pressure your thumb applies to the stupid thing.

groaning, you mutter muffled profanities as sparks of fire begin to ignite but still weak to light your cigarette.

and just when you decide to give up, a lighter appears beside yours, one you recognize all too well.

the hand over your cigarette drops slightly, looking at joseph who nods his eyebrows as if to say go ahead when his lighter goes aflame and nears it to you.

you decide why the fuck not and let him light it, watching as the flame ignites your cigarette before he takes one out for himself in his own pack and light his own, standing beside you with mirrored close cheeks and awkward stances; though the only difference is he's looking at you while you look off the balcony.

joseph rocks back and forth in his heels, tapping the grey chucks of grime off his cigar before he finally speaks up. "there's an awful lot of people there, isn't it?"

you blink, letting out a dry chuckle as you take another hit before you answer him. "well, it's a big show. they wouldn't pass off an opportunity to see them when they're given the chance."

"you're right," joseph smiles, but the lines on his face are deep with dejection as his eyes scan you from head to toe, more as an act of resolved longing. "it's nice to see you, (y/n)."

swallowing the rock down your throat, you manage to offer him the most sincere smile you can muster and finally look at him. the gloss over his eyes make his irises shine brighter from the moon floating in the plain night sky, his tongue darting out to wet his drying lips.

"it's nice to see you too, jo." you mutter. and maybe it is nice to see him after several months apart, a musk of familiarity lingering over your bodies. hands so close yet so far away from joining and going back from the way that it was. "glad you didn't die of shyness back at the stage."

"i was nervous," he shrugs, scratching the hair on his temple. "i've never been into a crowd that big. you know that."

"oh i do," you wriggle your eyebrows at him. "i so do."

silence fills the yearning space, your smokes joining together and withering into the air like it used to; like it always did. taking silent inhalations of nicotine into your mouths before they escape both of your duplicitous lips.

and as if joseph has finally decided to fuck over his menacing consciousness, he blinks the forming tears in his eyes and lets them dampen his eyelashes before he looks at you again. "i missed you, love." he whispers. "i miss you."

your breathing hitches, the same tears stinging your eyes as you force yourself to look at his melancholy state. "well, i'm here now, aren't i?"

"you know what i mean," he chuckles sadly. "i should have been there, (y/n). you-you were right. i've been away for too long and i kept on believing that i still knew you when i had no clue that you were miserable."

"well i didn't really tell you, joseph, so i—"

"i should have known, still." he throws the cigarette to the ground, stomping it until it dies and becomes nothing but garbage beneath his shoe. "i should have known and-and looked. i should have stayed. i should have fought for it and asked you what i could do to make things right. and i would have done them all, love. i would have done them all."

it pains you to see him so hurt, and the look on his face takes you back to the last time you saw him — puffy eyes matching yours, begging lips for you to stay but never really fought, and your broken hearts shattered on the floor but never mixing and mending each other.

"it was bound to happen," you tell him. "you needed to figure how to fix things yourself. i can't- i can't always be there to fix your shit, joseph." you throw your cigarette to the ground, right on top of his before you turn it off. "i needed to focus on myself."

"but you- my ignorance has made you no longer love me."

"who said i didn't love you?" you whisper incredulously. "we just needed space. some time. to realize our mistakes and fix our flaws before we, we let each other in again."

"i still love you," in a sudden twist of his touch that he keeps guarded, joseph decides to take your face between his hands, rubbing the tears off as soon as they fall down your skin. "i never stopped. and i know i made some mistakes but i've changed. i promise you, i've changed. i want us back, baby."

"jo—"

"i promise i'll listen." his eyes flit between yours in search of hesitancy. "i promise i'll drop my bullshit and be there for you. i promise i'll give you more love than you deserve. i promise that i'll always be by your side. i fucking promise you that. and—" he closes his eyes. "i know i don't deserve your forgiveness after what i did but, i promise you that i have changed and i will do better. just-...just take me back, please."

it's not easy to forget the pain he's showered upon you that time. because the sight of him again cuts the wound open and lets the fresh blood seep once more. but you hope, you truly hope, he'd mend that cut he created on your heart, using his promised bandages to stop the blood leaking down to your feet.

your hands wrap around his wrists. "i'll think about it."

though the yes is still to be built up, joseph sighs of relief and can't help but place a kiss to your forehead with trembling lips. "thank you," he whispers against your skin. "i promise you i'll try."

"okay," you smile wetly. "now i wanna see your dad, again. i miss his jokes."

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[pedroschka]

Hi! I love your JQ work 💕

I would like to request a cute blurb. This one contains about reader and Joe having a baby together. If you're uncomfortable with that, it's totally fine - just ignore this.

Reader and Joe met on the set of season 4, they're characters are love interest and behind the scenes they also fell in love. A few years later they're married with a baby less than a year old.

The couple shows their baby their scenes. Baby recognizes mama but not dada.

not daddy

dad!Joseph Quinn x mum!reader

A/n: so cute! I couldn't not do it! hope you enjoy <3 (fully inspired by my nephew and his judgement for everyone)

Seeing yourself on TV always comes with a little discomfort, cringing upon hearing your own voice or how your nose looks in some scenes but watching yourself from five years ago hits extra hard.

You and your husband had planned a small movie night together cuddled up on the sofa, but just as he was searching through Netflix to find something to watch, the baby monitor beside you lightens up and the small whimpers from your 18 months old daughter turned into crying within seconds.

You and Joe looked at each other, it's his turn now. He jumped off the sofa and handed you the remote before sprinting up the stairs to her room.

The crying stopped nearly instantly and you could hear Joe's soft talking and shushing through the baby monitor before it went silent and he walked with her on his arm into the living room sitting himself beside you again

"What's the matter little munchkin huh?" You cooed at her "you just ate, you can't be hungry again can't you?" She turned her face into Joe's neck, grabbing his curls in her small hands

"Her nappy is also dry, just think she needs a few more cuddles to sleep hm?" He softly nudged her little head with his nose, soft curls of dark hair on it that looked so much like Joe's, matching their chocolate button eyes and turning her into a tiny version of your husband.

Her answer to him was an even firmer grip on his hair before pulling on it, hard.

"Ow ow ow no baby don't hurt daddy " Joe winced and desperately tried to free his hair from her surprisingly strong grip.

At this she lifted her head up and blinked owlishly up at him, "daddy" her small hand let go of his curls and instead pushed her flat hand into his face, squishing his nose and making you laugh at Joe's deadpanned face

" Surprised she even recognize you with such long hair, you start to resemble Eddie again " you joked, his hair wasn't that long but it reaches nearly his shoulders and was the longest you ever saw it without the help of a wig, wanting to grow it out for his new role.

"You always recognize daddy right, you're a smart girl " he nodded at her

" You wanna bet on it ?" You winked at him and nodded towards the TV where the trailer for stranger things showed up

" Gosh I haven't watched it in years " he turned your daughter around on his lap and pointed with his finger at the screen "without this show you wouldn't even exist now, can you believe this? Not a world I wanna live in " he whispered to her and gives her a little kiss on her head

Your heart felt like it's gonna explode with all the love you felt watching the two most important people in your life, not even wanting to imagine a world without them in it. But Joe was right, if there wouldn't have been so many coincidences lined up onto another, bringing you two together on the set of season four and falling in love in between filming, you maybe would still share a flat with your best friend, jumping from one night stand to another, giving up on relationships and true love.

" Alright but only the fun scenes, don't wanna traumatize her already with watching her mom's bones getting cracked " you mumbled the last part to not get her to catch that and fast forward to the forest scene with both you and Joe, your favorite.

Her gorgeous round eyes lit up and a big smile spread across her cheeks, she starts wriggling excitingly on Joe's lap, having him grab her a little tighter to not let her fall, "mummy!" She turned her head towards you and then back to the screen

" Yes you're absolutely right, that's your mummy! And look who's there too!" You make a surprised face at her and point to the screen where Joe aka Eddie walks into the scene.

But instead of screaming daddy with the same enthusiasm her face turned into the most uninterested little frown her little face could master, plumming her little body against Joe's creating an adorable double chin

"Told ya" you laughed at Joe who frowned down at his daughter

" Look it's daddy " he tried to convince her

"Mummy!" she smiled at you again when she saw your character on the TV but instantly turned blank again when the camera switched towards Eddie, even looking a bit judgy as he threw himself off the bench

"Wow this is the most devastating criticism I've ever received" he tried to cover his disappointment with humor but the little downtown of his lips was clearly visible

"You have to admit, the wig does make you look very different"

Joe huffed as your daughter screeches mummy again and places her on your lap before walking to the TV and standing right in front of it.

You watched in amusement as he starts recreating Eddie's scene, exaggerating the facial expressions and theatrics, making your daughter giggle before screaming "daddy move!" at him

You started laughing hysterically and Joe tried really hard to look offended but eventually couldn't hold his laughter back and ran up to her and held her up in front of him wriggling her around

"What did you just say hm? What did you say" blowing raspberries all over her face and making her screech in laughter, little body shaking

"Don't do this too much she's gonna…."

The loudest fart in baby history echoed through the living room and ended your sentence for you

Her cackling after it rounded it all up

"Alright, she definitely got this from you" Joe stated before holding her away from him and pushing her nappy butt near your face making you screech and hide behind the cushions

TV fully forgotten now.

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

My world

SUMMARY: Can you make a joe quinn one where they are dating since shooting season 4 and now they have interviews of the sesson together reader has been in it since the 1st season and in the interview he getd asked how he fell in love and what he loves about the reader and he gives such a sweet kind of speech and the reader didnt know he thought so and when they are at their hotel cause theh are in Brazil its all sweet and they make love? ^^ SMUT

WARNING: cute speech, NSFW, intercourse, unprotected sex, slight oral.. yeah

I'm reposting this + masterlist coming soon

You woke up with a soft groan. A yawn fell from your mouth as you stretched- well tried to. You frowned feeling something heavy against your lower body. You opened your eyes looking down to see your boyfriend, Joseph passed out on top of you. His face was buried in your tummy and arms around your waist. Your laughed slightly as you listened to his light snores. You knew he was exhausted especially after your long flight here to Brazil. You both have been working non stop for press tour for Stranger Things. Even though it could get a little overwhelming at times at least you had each other.

“Joseph.” You shook him lightly trying to wake up. A grunt fell from the man's mouth as he started moving around. “Baby, can you get off my legs. They're going numb now.”

Another groan fell from Joseph lips. He heard you loud and clear and rolled off of you. But you weren't out of his grip yet. His arms circled your waist pulling you into him.

“Joseph!” You said with a laugh. With his eyes still closed due to sleep he grunted a ‘what’

“we need to get up and ready. We have work to do.”

Joseph sighed out, “fine.” he stretched and yawned while you removed yourself from the bed. You walked into the bathroom and grabbed your toothbrush starting to brush your teeth. A few minutes went by before Joseph joined you. He walked in and kissed your temple before grabbing his own toothbrush.

“you ready to see your fans?” You asked turning to him. He nodded his head before spitting in the sink. “Never be more ready. Kinda crazy have so many people love me.”

You smiled. “Yeah, it's amazing to see people love you.” you kissed your boyfriend on the cheek. “Now I'm going to take a shower and get ready then we can go.”

♡︎

You and Joseph got ready within an hour. After a quick breakfast you made your way to the meet up. While there you watched as Joseph greeted his fans. You could help but feel so happy for him. Greeting fans for you was nothing new but for him it was big. This was his breakthrough role and he was finally getting the recognization he deserved. Seeing all this overwhelming support mad him so happy and it also made you happy knowing this was what he wanted the day he started filming with you guys.

You took some pictures talked to some fans, all before it was time for the interviews.

You took a seat in the chair that was in between Joseph's and Jamie's. The interviewer started asking simple questions about the show to which you three answered normally. It was towards the end when they asked about your relationship.

“so Joseph, we know you and y/n have been dating for a little bit. Tell us how did this start?”

Joseph turned to you and smirked.

“you know I wasn't planning to fall in love with anyone, but I met her and you know everything thing changed. For starters she's the most kindest and sweetest person I've ever met. The first day on set she made me feel welcomed more than anyone and that continued while we were filming. I realized I liked her and I asked her out and she surprisingly said yes. Every day after that has been amazing.” Joseph sighed as he softly smiled. “god, She's everything I dreamed for. the prettiest smile, the prettiest voice, my biggest supporter, best advice giver. She Has the most gentle soul ever. She's the sunshine to my life even on bad days. She's my world, my everything. I can't wait to spend many more years with this very beautiful woman.” Joseph turned to you and smile softly at you, he grabbed your hand and laid a kiss on it.

Jamie and the interviewer awed at you two. It was sure to get more aw(s) when it hit the internet the next day that was for sure.

After your interview you and Joseph went to a party with Jamie. It was great, Nice even but really you want to go back to the hotel to talk to Joe. His words were stuck in your mind like glue. He has told you numerous times how much he loved and appreciated you, but never to that extent. It gave you butterflies just thinking about what he had said to you.

The long work day drew to a close soon and you were happy. As you walked back into your hotel room the first thing you did was hug Joseph. He was caught off guard but he wrapped his arms around you too. “You ok?”

You smiled at his concern and pulled away. “Yeah, I'm fine. It's just those words you said about me earlier made me get butterflies.”

Joseph smirked “Really?”

You nodded, “yeah really.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him so that you both were barely an inch away. “ you're my everything too.”

You kissed Joseph hard. He held your waist as you both made out. After a minute he pulled away. “Jump.” He whispered against your lips. You did as he said and wrapped your legs around his waist. You both started kissing again as he walked over to the bed.

Your back hit the mattress as he sat you down. Joseph lips moved down to your neck, he placed rough kisses that were sure to leave hickeys. You moaned running your fingers through his hair. Joseph lifted his head, he smirked at you before kissing your lips again. You started to unbutton his shirt the best that he could. When you reached the last button he pulled away and removed the white shirt from his body.

You took your opportunity to take off your shirt. When your shirt was thrown on the floor, Joseph's hands were already pulling at your bra. You giggled as you help take it off. “Needy aren't you?”

He rolled his eyes but the smirk on his face told you he was.

The bra was tossed to the floor where all of your other clothes were. Joseph hand went to your boob, he squeezed the flesh, pinching your perky nipple that grew hard from being exposed. You softly grunted and looked up at him.

“God, I just wanna be inside of you.” Joseph grunted. His soft brown eyes shut as he started unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his leg. You did the same, removing your pants and panties until you were completely bare in front of him. In front of each other.

Joseph looked down at your body as he stroked himself. He's seen it a million times before this but you always amazed him at your beauty.

“So fucking beautiful.” His accent was thick as his lust grow. You opened your legs wide making him scoot in between them. you needed him in you badly. You practically ached for him to fill you up.

Joseph held onto your left thigh as he pushed himself into you. Your bodies connected with one another. In union both your moans filled the room.

Your walls, warm and wet coated Joseph's length making him twitch in you. You were always so tight and warm. After a good 30 seconds of recovering Joseph finally moved in you.

A moan escaped your lips as he slowly moved out of you and slammed right back in. His pace went from slow to fast in no time. You sobbed out a moan with the actions that were taking place. Your eyes were torn between watching Joseph enter you and his eyes.

“this my pussy?” Joseph said his words scattered as he pounded into you. You nodded your head.

“no, use your words. Is this mine huh?”

A shiver ran down your spine making you moan. Your stomach was slowly tightening. “Yes, it-.. it's yours.”

Joseph grunted, “good girl. Fuck!”

Joseph hips snapped into you making you wail out. He knew you were close from the way you tighten around him. “You going to cum?” He asked looking down at you. “Yes.” you cried out gripping the sheets underneath you.

Joseph hand went down to the bundle of nerves and began circling at it“Cum!”

You came like he said. Your body shook undet

Joseph didn't cum instead he pulled out of you. You looked at him, “why didn't you cum?”

“this isn't about me.” Joseph lowered himself on the bed to between your legs. “i gotta show you how much I love you.” He kissed your thigh as he looked up at you. “Now relax, I'm going to get a few orgasms from you before this night ends.”

Before you could say a word his mouth was on your pussy. You shuttered bringing your hands to his hair. Let's just say Joseph did show you how much he loves you that night.

[iviarellereads]

Gideon the Ninth, Act Two, Chapter 9

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Third House icon) In which Gideon starts to meet the rest of the cast.

Gideon wakes to an unfamiliar ceiling(1), a fuzzy feeling in her mouth, and the scent of mould. She reaches for her rapier, and finds a note crumpled in her hand which reads

_Don't_ talk to _anybody_. I have taken the ring.

Gideon makes a skeleton joke about the first line, and bellows Harrow's name impotently at the second.(2) Indeed, Gideon's pockets are empty. It's not that she values the ring, it's that Harrow keeps cutting her pride when she's vulnerable.

Gideon strips out of her robes, and opens doors until she finds the bathroom. Gideon only recognizes the sink from her comics, and she has no idea what to do with "an enormous person-sized recess in the ground"(3) but there's an identifiable sonic cleaner, at least. She tries a lever next to the tap on the sink, and water streams out, scaring her. There's a cake of soap, but she's been wary of soap since the Ninth soap available was made of human fat, so she uses the sonic cleaner, and uses some antibac gel to scrape the paint off her face.

As she goes to leave, she sees a note stuck inside the door to the quarters which reads "Fix your face, idiot." On the paint box, there's a note telling Gideon in no uncertain terms not to go find Harrow, but to stay out of trouble and not talk to anybody, alive or dead.(4) Gideon paints her face, and puts on her sunglasses to complete the horrible effect.

Gideon retraces her steps to the atrium, then follows her nose to the room that serves as a mess hall, where a few of the others are already dining. There are a pair of "ghastly teens" who look at Gideon with something like awe, seated near a man with a kind face and a gorgeous rapier, well into his thirties, who waves to her as she sits. Before she can do anything, a skeleton sets some "sour green soup" and bread before her, and she gets busy with it. The skeleton returns with tea, and waits until she's taken it to leave, making her notice how perfect the motor control is on them.

The teens mutter between themselves in between giving Gideon and each other looks, until the man gives them a quiet rebuke. Gideon finishes her breakfast and finds a hand in front of her face. The man introduces himself as Magnus Quinn, cavalier and seneschal of the Fifth House. The teens start making dramatic hurt-animal noises and whining his name, and Gideon hesitates in taking his hand for so long that he withdraws it, rapping his knuckles on the table. Magnus says they're short on black (Ninth) priests in the Fourth and Fifth, and his Fourth companions are a bit overwhelmed. The teens, in subscript font, complain and tell him not to mention them at all.

Gideon stands, and something about her startles the man just a little. She figures it's the strange reputation of the Ninth, and simply nods to him. He pumps his head with gratitude, wishes "Health to the Ninth," and makes a firm let's-go gesture to the teens.

When they're gone, Gideon leaves in the opposite direction. She has no destination, no goals, no orders, just a desire to wander this massive, strange place. Eventually(5), after exploring many rooms and finding a curious door with a keyhole that implies key-teeth as long as her thumb, Gideon overhears a distant conversation.

Gideon sneaks closer, and overhears discussion between three people, two of whose voices are very similar, of how badly they're being treated, how nonsense this lateral puzzle is as supposedly relates to Lyctorhood, and what the puzzle might even be. The voices are coming down stairs toward her, and eventually from a hiding place she can see that it's the trio from the Third House, the bright twin Corona, the pale twin Ianthe, and the cavalier "Babs".(6) Curiously, the twins get into a disagreement, but when the cavalier takes one side over the other, both twins turn on him.(7)

As they leave, the pale twin stops and looks into the darkness, right where Gideon stands, despite being hidden and hooded.

"This is not a clever path to start down," she said softly. "I would not attract attention from the necromancer of the Third House."(8)

The pale twin leaves through the same door as her companions had.

=====

(1) I have no proof to this effect but I like to think this is an allusion to Neon Genesis Evangelion, where in the early episodes Shinji has a slight obsession over the unfamiliar ceiling in his new bedroom, and how many others he's woken up to. (2) How very KHAAAAAAN of you. Again, no proof, but it feels very evocative of that Star Trek 2 The Wrath Of Khan moment. (3) The Ninth has no bathtubs?! Welp there go my vacation plans. (4) It's like Harrow knows Gideon's penchant for twisting the words she's given into something that suits herself. (5) I assure you, if you have mental images/derive value from description, you will likely enjoy the couple of pages of describing all the decrepit corners of Canaan House that Gideon explores, and you might find memes and references I can't! I do hope everyone's reading along with me, though I get a keen sense of power at the idea that someone might NOT be reading, might simply be following along with my interpretation of the text. Don't let it go to my head, read along if you can! (6) Naberius, from the Dramatis Personae (7) I can't imagine being the third wheel cavalier to necromancer twins like this. Being adjacent to siblings can be hard enough, being adjacent to twins so much more so. (8) Aren't there two of them?

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 01 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

Next part (02) ->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Opportunity:

Your mind can't help but wonder what will happen next. Where they're taking you. In your state, half-dead, you feel they pushing you on a hospital stretcher. It's a sick pleasure of theirs, to numb you, yet allow you to understand what's going on around you. It's supposed to be part of their torture, as if they could scare you. They can't. The pain they inflict don't reach you anymore, you're beyond that. It's hard to breathe like there's a pressure on your chest, and you feel the fog that threatens to overcome your mind.

“I can't believe we're doing this.” A distracted, dull voice says. They're hovering over you, you're sure, a smile on their faces. These people aren't better than you, you concluded. They're all villains too, only backed up by their position and by the civilians who would never condemn them for hurting people like you.

“I don't like it either, but the orders came from above.”

It must be nasty if they don't like it. You wish you could move, you wish you could blow the fog away and get up. Then you'd crush their skulls on this stretcher and run. But you're motionless, completely vulnerable to your personal monsters. They enjoy seeing you like this, all of you actually, often saying they're job is to make you pay for everything you did. And many of the villains locked up in here paid for it a hundred times over.

“Don't worry, Mark. She will be back with us in no time. A slut like this wouldn't recognize a good opportunity like this even if fell from the sky.”

Opportunity. What kind of opportunity? You've been waiting a year for an opportunity to flee this place. Belle Reve is hell on Earth, the only prison you can't seem to overcome.

“Put the whore in the ship and fly this damn girl away.”

A fist connects to your stomach, and you feel your body moving, jerking up and falling back to the bed. The pain, hot and rough, spreads through your ribs. It happens three times over, and the blows come from different directions. You know why they like to do this when you're in this state. Because they know that, if you were awake, they'd regret it. They know you'd beat them so bad they'd swallow their pride and apologize. You're burning up, trying to make your body respond to the commands, but it's useless.

“Put her to sleep now. Higher her dose.”

You feel a needle in your neck, and slowly, you sink, to the back of your mind. Bracing yourself for whatever comes next, you decided to enjoy as the world ceases to exist, at least for a while.

•

The journey back to consciousness is like climbing an invisible ladder. The first thing you realize is that you can breathe without any restraint, which is always a good sign. Before opening your eyes, you make sure you can move your body. You start with your feet, then the legs, torso... Then your hands... Your hands are tied together, lied on your stomach. But you seem to be functional. Big mistake. Finally, you open your eyes, finding a white ceiling above. No place in Belle Reve has a white ceiling like this. Checking the surroundings, you find yourself completely alone in a bedroom. A normal bedroom, you suppose. The bed you're in is a king-sized bed. Two nightstands, a wardrobe, a dresser, two armchairs. Two windows on the left side, a door on the wall before you and another on the right. One of them must a bathroom. Bathrooms have mirrors and boxes, made of glass, which you can break and use as a weapon.

You wonder what kind of game is this. What new kind of torture they came up with. Make you believe you're somewhere better, safe, and then attack you all over again? They can't believe you'd fall for that. Not you. Sitting up, your eyes are focused on the windows. That man said that is was an opportunity. And you can use any kind of opportunity. Ignoring the handcuffs around your wrists, you get up in a single motion, using the nightstand to support your weight when the whole world spins around. Regaining your balance, you go to the windows, pushing the curtains away. And you find bars. Just a minor inconvenience.

Outside, what you see isn't the familiar desolation of Belle Rave surroundings. Despite the darkness, you can see a garden, grass, and high walls. On the corner, almost out of sight, you see tables and a pool. What kind of place is this?

A noise on the door makes you turn on your heels, full alert. There's nothing you can use to defend yourself, so you'll have to count on your bare hands. Your eyes fall on the handcuffs and a desperate feeling builds up. You start pulling, violently, trying to set free. You feel as the metal starts ripping the skin, reopening old wounds. Twisting your wrists, you try to at least separate your hands, but the metal doesn't surrender.

The door is open and you're forced to look up, hands ready to put up a fight. Your whole body is burning as if anticipating the war you're about to start.

“Miss (Y/N) Quinzel.” The man starts, not seeming to be surprised at all. He's tall, muscular, wearing a suit and tie. “Please, sit.”

“You bought me, didn't you?” It hits you all of a sudden, and a smile comes to your lips. They sold you away like an animal, how original. A good way to get rid of you, you must admit, but unlike they think, you can recognize an opportunity. Allowing you out of Belle Reve was a huge mistake.

“No, I didn't buy you.” The man casually walks over one of the armchairs, gesturing at the other one after taking a seat.

“It doesn't matter.” You stand there, eyes alert, watching his every move. You're also aware of the door, left unlocked.

“I'm here to explain what you're doing here. Where you are and why.” You're not listening, you're thinking. If you move through the bed, you can get to the door before he even knows what's happening. You're small, which makes you fast. If you jump from the bed to the ground in your run, you'll land right by the door. Once you're out, all you gotta do is keep running. He won't be able to reach you. Muscles are heavy, and this man has many. He's slow.

“Do you think I care?” You ask, waiting for his eyes to leave you, just for a second. You just need a second.

“No, you don't.” Lowering your hands a little bit, you notice how his eyes fall on it. On the blood flowing out.

That's when you move. You step on the bed, following your plan strictly. You jump to the floor, opening the door and fleeing. It doesn't matter where you're going, you just need to keep moving. You hear his footsteps behind you, and it brings a smile to your lips. It's been a while since you had a chance to do something like this. The adrenaline, the rush is as good as you remember. Stumbling downstairs, your eyes find a hall, and that's where you go. The wind messes with your hair, fresh as freedom. You find a door, which is locked, but it doesn't slow you down, you soon start moving again. You reach a kitchen, huge, and your sharp eyes find a knife and you move to grab it. The next thing you notice is a window, with no bars. The man's footsteps fill your ears as you climb up the sink, opening the window and sliding through it, hitting the ground hard on the other side.

Being outside is unbelievable. The fresh wind, the dark sky above. When we the last time you've been outside? You can't remember. Move, you tell yourself. Holding the knife tight with both your hands, you start running again, your barefoot feet hurting on the rocks. You soon see the gates. If you cross it, you're free. You'll be back in the streets, home. Just one last set of bars to overcome. Once you reach it, you drop the knife, holding onto the cold, black metal bars. Your head hurts, and you're a little dizzy, but that's nothing you can't deal with.

Taking a deep breath and biting back a smile, you look forward, to the other side, and start climbing. You don't even process what you're doing. It doesn't matter how tall, how hard will be the fall, you'll do this.

Pulling yourself up, a laugh escapes your lips. They thought they could keep you imprisoned forever. They don't know you, they don't know what you're capable of.

A strong arm encircles your waist and you're pulled back. All air leaves your lungs, but you immediately recognize the enemy. You shouldn't have dropped the knife. The man throws you over his shoulder, and you're quick to attack his back. Using hands and elbows, you punch him, again and again, but he doesn't seem to care. His grip on your thighs grows stronger as your assault on his back gets worse. He's carrying you back to the house, and when he crosses the front door, you kick him hard on the stomach. He flinches a little, which makes you smile and kick him once again, harder this time. The man loses his balance, and you take the chance to push him aside and fall to the floor.

There's no time to take in the pain, you have to move. You're pulled back into his grip, his hand grabbing your ankle. You kick him, not sure where, but a groan leaves his mouth. You must admit you admire his strength. Your guards use to be knocked out very easily.

“Stop it.” He commands, and you smile through the fight. He pulls you up again, over the shoulder. As he tries to climb up the stairs, you push, kick and punch, and he falls a few times, but manages to get you back into the room.

“Put me the hell down!” You yell, sliding down and punching his face.

“Damn it.” He angrily mutters, holding both your wrists. The man uses his weight to push you to the armchair, using his body to keep you there. You fight and scream, hurting him any way you can.

You then feel ropes around you, tight against your chest and stomach. When he stands up again, a bleeding lip, you can't move, it doesn't matter how hard you try. The man touches his lip before going away, closing the door violently.

“I'm sending her back to Belle Reve.” He tells someone, saying something else you can't hear.

‘A slut like this wouldn't recognize a good opportunity like this even if fell from the sky.’ That man's voice comes back to your mind, filled with disgust. You can't let him be right. You can't let this opportunity pass. If you're sent back, you'll prove to him right. No. You have to think before acting, you need to stay here. You almost succeed today. In one year at Belle Reve, you never got anywhere close. Here, you have a chance.

Two hours later, the man is back. He doesn't seem to be angry, just a little mad. Annoyed. You keep your mouth shut, watching as he takes a deep breath and sits on the armchair set in front of you.

“Are you done fighting? And yelling?” He asks, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“Are you sending me back to Belle Reve?” It's the only thing you care about.

“No. Not yet.”

“Who are you?” You're struggling with the want to try to set free, to break the handcuffs, to rip the ropes, but you have to control yourself.

“I'm Bruce Wayne. The Batman.”

“You're going to kill me.” You burst out, a particularly loud laugh escaping your lips and bouncing through the walls. The only reason why Batman would tell you his secret identity is because he plans to kill you. “How much did they pay you? Or how much did you pay them?” You manage to say when you finally stop laughing.

“I'm not planning to kill you. I want to rehabilitate you.”

This makes you laugh even more, ignoring how serious he is. He gotta be kidding. “That's a good joke, I must say.”

“Are you done?”

“Are you done, Bruce Wayne?” You stop laughing, looking at him, dead serious. “Because as much as I enjoy a good joke, I need to know why the hell am I here.”

“It's not a joke. I want to prove a point. I want to show people that villains, as they call those like you, can still be brought back to society. Fully recovered. Not everyone, but some might still have a chance.” Bruce's eyes fall on your wrists. The blood is dry, staining the skin.

“You picked the wrong villain, Bruce Wayne. I assure you I don't belong to the group that can be... Rehabilitated.”

“I'm the one who decides that, not you.” Bruce get up to his feet, coming to stand before you, then kneeling. He takes your hands, moving the handcuffs a little to reveal the wounded skin underneath. “I can remove these and clean the injury if you promise not to try anything.”

“I could kick you right in the head,” you tell him, a smirk on your face. “So damn hard you'd pass out and I'd be free to go.”

“If you could do that, you wouldn't announce it.” He stands up again. “I'll be right back.”

You watch as Bruce leaves the room, locking the door. Is it true? Does Batman really want to rehabilitate a villain? You already bumped into the Dark Knight a few times, but managed to run. Now, you're his prisoner. This can't be worse than Belle Reve though, you hope. He comes back minutes later, with a box. Laying it on the bed, you watch his every move. It's something like a first aid kit. He really meant that when he said he would clean the lesion.

“You don't have to attend to my wounds. This is how it works: the blood is washed away in the bath, and the wound is left to heal by itself.” Speaking slow, you explain him how they do things in Belle Reve. A doctor is only called when someone tries to commit suicide. Other than that, your bodies are left to deal alone with any injury.

Bruce doesn't answer. He searches for something in the nightstand behind you, and when he comes back into your sight, he ties up your legs, ankles and knees. “Seriously? Don't you think I've-” You bite your tongue when he pulls your wrists through the handcuffs, causing a sharp pain to spread through the lacerated skin. “That was unnecessary.”

Silently, he opens the handcuffs and you suddenly feel relieved. You feel freer now, even though you're all tied up. You watch as Bruce carefully cleans the wound, wrapping a bandage around your wrists. It's curious to see someone doing such a thing. Before Belle Reve, you had to tell those who worked for you to patch you up. It was always fast, and painful because you just wanted it to be over so you could get along with your things. Then, in that hell... Not even that.

“I will leave you to rest,” Bruce says when he's done, closing the box. “There is soap on the bathroom for you, shampoo, and hair conditioner, as well as all the personal things you'll need. If you believe you need anything else, let me know.”

“Is that your plan? To just leave me here? You really think this will change who I am?”

“You don't know what my plan is.” He makes a pause, looking down at you. “I will untie you now. If you try to run, I will knock you down, and I don't care if you're a girl.”

“Woman.” You correct him, smiling. “And I'm not scared of you, I don't care if you're huge.”

Bruce stands there, thinking. Wondering if you'll run again. But you won't. If you do, he will definitely throw you back in that hole. Taking a deep breath, Bruce kneels down again, untying your legs. He then moves to stand behind you. and the ropes fall loose. You feel his eyes on you, paying attention, but you don't move.

“I'll come back to see you tomorrow.” That said, he leaves.

It takes a while until you finally move, getting up from the chair. Everything you need is Bruce to put down his guard, to trust you just a little bit. An opening, it's everything you need.

Ignoring the ropes laying around your feet, you move to the bathroom. As soon as you open the door, you remember the showers in Belle Reve. How you hugged your knees on the cold concrete floor, under the assault of the high-pressure water as someone held the hose. This is different. Walking around, you notice the small pile of clothes on the sink. A white shirt, light gray sweatpants, and underwear. You notice the white towels, the hairdryer... Taking your clothes off, you step into the box, opening the warm water and letting it soak your body.

You let it all go for a moment, enjoying what a normal shower feels like. You don't need to hide your naked body, the water isn't too cold or too hot, it's perfect, gentle on your skin. You take your time, washing Belle Reve off. You wash your hair too, smiling to smell the strawberry scent from the hair conditioner. Your lilac hair has brown roots for the entire year you spent in prison.

The bathroom is filled with smoke when you step out of the box, drying yourself and putting the clothes on. Staring at the mirror, you wonder when was the last time you saw your face. You look the same, and your not sure if that's good or bad. After drying your hair, you find a brush and starts detangling it.

Going back to bed, you imagine how good it might be to have a life like this every day. Clean clothes, soap, warm water. But that's not your life. Your life is on the streets, underground, beneath an old mall long destroyed. There lies your riches, your money, your things. That's where you belong, where you need to go back to. And you will. Batman won't stop you.

×

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.2.9 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st 5:13 AM

Warren County, Illinois

While that call did not succeed in waking up Kyndra and Zoey, the aforementioned Diego was woken up, however, by his co-worker Quinn, as he lay napping on a tattered sofa in the SuperFuel Deluxe's break room.

“Diego!”

Diego grunted.

“Diego, get up,” Quinn slapped him with a blue rag.

Diego sat up and rubbed his eye.

“Customers.” Quinn said.

Diego blinked awake. The TV was on. A man with fake looking blonde hair stood in front of a map coated with splotches of reds, oranges, and yellows.

“ Lightning strikes have been reported just about everywhere as this severe cell moves through Warren and Carpenter counties. Listen up if you are in the areas of Russelville, Haddonfield, Langdon, Tuckerville...you are under a Severe Thunderstorm Warning and Tornado Watch ‪until 7:45 am‬. Check out this picture someone posted on social media, that's softball sized hail folks...this reported by Zeke, a custodian working late ‪night tonight‬ at Smith's Grove High School, so be careful out there folks.”

Thunder struck and the lights in the shop momentarily dimmed. Customers, Diego thought, in this storm?

Diego stood up and stretched and then grabbed his Mountain Dew he had swiped from the coolers a few hours ago. Stepping into the shop, he sure enough saw some guy was talking to Quinn, standing next to an old-ass station wagon. The kind that had the wood panels on the side. The bottom was eaten away with rust. Diego was surprised the thing was even running at all, and one of the first things he noticed were the California plates. The lifeless remains of a tire lay snaked around a severely dented rim on the front passenger side. Must have hit a curb without even braking, he thought.

Quinn pulled a clipboard off the dark blue tool bench next to him and said, “We actually just had one of these die on us last week and it's back there in the yard. We can replace the tire and the rim and fix up those tie rods and struts in a jiff. You got really got lucky, because otherwise you'd be waiting at least two days for parts.”

The man's eyes grew wide, “Are you serious?! That's a miracle if I ever heard one.”

“I'll say,” Diego chimed in, “What year is this?”

“1989 Ford Country Squire” Jack Tate said proudly.

“Wow,” Diego laughed. “Quinn's right, we literally just got one of these in, the drive train fell apart in our hands, literally fell apart. But it was much more beat up than this.”

“You don't say!?” Jack put his hands on his hips.

“I couldn't help but recognize the California plates,” Diego motioned to the back of the car, dropping to one knee to examine the wheel well.

“Yep,” Jack said, rubbing his chin, “We're from a small town in Northern California, between San Jose and Sacramento. It's called Summer Glen.”

“Bet you don't get much snow there,” Diego said from under the car.

“Nope..but I bet you guys do.”

Diego appeared from under the lopsided tire with a smile, “Buckets,” he replied, “And it wreaks havoc on an undercarriage.”

“I bet it does” Jack replied.

Diego stood up and wiped his hands on his coveralls. “Well, not so much the snow,” he said, “it's the salt they salt the roads with. Eats the bottom of the car all up.”

“So what do you do?” Jack asked.

“Heated car wash,” Diego said, reaching out his hand to Quinn for the clipboard.

“I saw signs for those on the way in, all over the place up here,” Jack said, “But I saw signs but then it looked like empty parking lots.”

Quinn smiled and handed Diego the clipboard, “With steam coming up?”

“I didn't see any steam,” Jack replied.

“They're probably turned off right now.” Diego remarked, looking over the paper on the clipboard.

Quinn whistled, “Whew don't I know it. It's been hotter than a hippo with a hernia.”

“Hmmm,” Jack grunted in agreement, “Climate Change.”

Quinn hissed, “Hogwash! I don't believe that bullshit for a second.”

Jack quickly changed the subject, “Anyways—err--how do car washes help your car in the winter?”

Quinn nodded, “You drive over the jets and they hose off your undercarriage with heated water”

“That's fascinating,” Jack smiled.

“Well,” Diego sighed, “We have the parts already so we'll charge you a $90 restocking fee, that's mostly 'cuz Quinn here has to run out in the rain and slip the rim and tie-rods off the old car.”

“Aww man, that's cold,” Quinn exclaimed.

“Good news is,” Diego continued, “You really didn't tear her up all that much besides that, you knocked some things loose but we can tighten her up. The labor will cost you $400 easy,, being on the weekend now, and then $140 for the tire, $126 for the rim, taxes and disposal and you're still under a grand.”

“That's wonderful,” Jack said, placing his hands back on his hips.

“What brings you out here?” Quinn asked, “Especially in this storm.”

“My wife got a job out here, she ‪starts Monday‬ so we wanted to get out here as quick as we could....drove straight through.” Jack remarked.

“Wow,” Quinn breathed.

“I need those parts Quinn,” Diego remarked, opening the top of the tool bench and pulling out a socket wrench.

“Oh right!” Quinn smiled. He walked over to the far wall and grabbed a yellow rain coat which hung on a peg next to a Calendar, still on the month of October. A model in a bikini presided over the tenth month. “What job did your wife get out here?” He called from across the room.

“She's going to be the new Chief of Medicine at the hospital,” Jack replied, his eyes on Diego as Diego crouched back down toward the car.

“Oh she's gonna replace old man Mixter!” Quinn remarked.

Jack shrugged.

“Hurry Quinn, this guy said he's got places to be,” Diego said from under the car.

“Oh right,” Quinn said and stepped through the side door that led into a small foyer and eventually either out to the front parking lot or back into the lot.

“So your wife's a doctor eh,” Diego's voice came from under the car, “so what do you do?”

“Well I'm a doctor too,” Jack replied.

Diego emerged from the car holding a twisted piece of metal, “Really? What kind?”

“Well I'm a psychiatrist,” Jack said.

Diego slid back under the car, “A shrink huh?” He said, “You opening up an office here or something?”

“Well no,” Jack laughed, “I'm actually going to take some time off and write a book.”

Diego re-emerged with more twisted metal, “Cool,” he said, “What about?”

“Hypnosis,” Jack said matter-of-factly.

Diego cocked his head to one side, “Really? You do that shit?”

“Swear by it,” Jack replied.

There was an awkward moment of silence and then they both laughed.

🎃

Meanwhile, Ophelia Tate had purchased a small and incredibly over-priced pack of baby wipes and was giving herself the best attempt at a bath she could muster inside the surprisingly clean restroom of the SuperFuel Deluxe. After she finished, she sat on top of a toilet and took an opportunity to catch up on social media.

While she sat in the stall reading about “11 Celebrities That You Would Never Assume Were Gay”, her son Damon stepped into the Food Mart, and wiped his perfectly white sneakers on the welcome mat. An angry looking Indian man looked up as the door bells jingled and then went back to fiddling with some electronic device behind the counter. Damon's first thought was, Why does he keep all that bullet proof glass open?

He casually turned to his left, starting down an aisle chock full of every imaginable brand of potato chip or chocolate or fruity candy---browsing but not really browsing, more just wasting time. The aisle came to a dead-end at a wall of coolers full of soda and water and fruit juices. Damon stopped and caught himself staring at a row of YooHoos when he heard what sounded like a snickering to his left.

There was a small hallway to the left of the coolers, veering off next to an ATM machine. He stepped in front of the ATM machine and peered down the hallway, at once spotting the cause of the commotion. Three young boys were standing in the corner next to a door marked: UTILITY, NO TRESSPASSING. One was a freckled redheaded kid with shiny braces dressed as batman, another was a blonde haired blue eyed boy dressed like Darth Vader, and the last was a much younger looking kid with brown hair and brown eyes dressed like some kind of zombie. They were huddled together, their masks all hanging limply around their necks, crowded around a magazine featuring a hot blonde titled RED RABBIT. The cover-girl’s name was apparently Misty Dawn, and according to the cover caption, she was “Back and Ready for More Action”.

The boys caught sight of Damon and looked up startled. The freckled redhead kid's smile disappeared and his eyes grew narrow, “Hey!” He called, “What are you looking at?”

Damon was unfazed. “Looks like a couple of pervs to me,” he said, stepping toward them.

This apparently took them aback because they said nothing in retort.

“Seriously,” Damon said, pointing at the cover, “How old are you guys?”

Blonde Vader who held the magazine in his hand pressed it to his chest as if it were the most valuable thing on the earth and looked up at Damon with his mouth open. Little zombie boy took a step back. But BatFreckle was not amused. “Why don't you go Fuck Off!”

Damon frowned, “That's not very nice language. Is everyone in this town pervs like you?”

“Where are you---” little zombie started in but BatFreckle cut him off.

“Don't you know that Warren County is the home of the Rabbit-in-Red? What hole did you crawl out of freak-show?”

“Rabbit-in-what?” Damon asked and with lightning speed, snatched the magazine from Blonde Vader.

“Hey!” The wannabe Sith Lord exclaimed.

“Rabbit-In-Red Productions is the world's third largest manufacturer of pornographic media dipshit, and the company is based here in Warren County.” BatFreckle spat.

“So it is a county full of pervs,” Damon said, opening the magazine and thumbing through the pages.

“My dad said a local bunch of church folks fought Mr. Martini in court over decency laws so much, the legal fees drove the church out of business.” Blonde Vader said.

“Shi-yeah,” BatFreckle said, “That's why old man Taylor's up in his house on the hill crying like a pussy all the time.”

“Mr. Who?” Damon asked, closing the magaize and handing it back to Blonde Vader.

BatFreckle snatched it instead and flipped to the table of contents, pointing to a ‪small black‬ and white picture of a middle-aged overweight man. “Lou Martini. He's the CEO of Rabbit-in-Red nimrod, he owns half the county and is like, the richest man in Illinois outside of Chicago.”

“Where are you from?” Little zombie found his place to ask.

“My parents and I are moving here from California, we just got in tonight, got a flat tire.” Damon replied.

“California! That's cool!” Blonde Vader exclaimed.

BatFreckle rolled his eyes, “Beat it California!” He said, “We were just checking out Spitz' mom in this month's issue.”

He and Blonde Vader started laughing.

“That's not my mom!” Little zombie, who's name was obviously Spitz, whined.

“Don't lie, you know it's her!” BatFreckle teased.

Blonde Vader turned the page, and the centerfold fell out, revealing the cover-girl Misty Dawn laying on a bed of white fur naked except for a silver belly chain and and black stilettos. A paper fell out as well and fluttered almost magestically to the floor. Damon bent down and picked it up. It was a flier that featured another picture of the model. The headline read:

SEE COVER GIRL

MISTY DAWN

TUE-SUN

OCTOBER AND NOVEMBER

AT THE

RABBIT-IN-RED LOUNGE

IN

HADDONFIELD

“Look Spitz” BatFreckle said in jest, “You can see your mom's show tonight if you want.”

“It's not my mom!” Spitz whined again.

“Why don't you leave him alone?” Damon said.

“Why don't you suck my balls?” BatFreckle snapped.

“Chill out Lonnie!” Blonde Vader slapped BatFreckle's shoulder and then looked at Damon “Lonnie can be a douche sometimes, I'm Richie Marshall, this is Lonnie Elamb, and he's Spitz. Welcome to Haddonfield.”

Lonnie groused and leaned back against the wall, opening up the porn.

“Cool, my name is Damon.”

“How old are you?” Richie asked.

“17, you?”

“I just turned 12, Lonnie is 16 but he's still in 8th grade...he has to go to special classes at the Middle School.” Richie and Spitz cackled.

“I have dyslexia fuck face!” Lonnie said, throwing the RED RABBIT at his friend.

“I'm 8,” Spitz said proudly.

“What are you doing out of the house at this time of night?” Damon asked, picking up the magazine from the floor and handing it back to Richie.

“Lonnie has his drivers license now, and I just snuck out of my house.” Richie said.

“What about you?” Damon asked, turning toward Spitz.

“His mom's a whore so she leaves him alone to go out fucking for quarters!” Lonnie called.

“Stop it Lonnie! She is not!” Spitz cried.

Damon ignored him and Spitz continued, “My mom works late nights at Jamie Lee's Diner, she doesn't get home till morning. My grandma watches me but she fell asleep and I...I snuck out too.”

“We just ate there coming in,” Damon said smiling.

“My mom is Taylor,” Spitz said.

“She was our waitress.” Damon replied.

“His mom's a slut!” Lonnie called.

Spitz started to whine but Damon put an arm around him, “Why do you hang out with this asshole? Is there anything else to do in this place than look at naked chicks?”

“There's an arcade in the driver's lounge, but I don't have any quarters.” Spitz said.

“Come on,” Damon said, “Show me where it is.”

Richie tossed Lonnie the magazine to followed Damon and Spitz. Lonnie caught it, rolling his eyes, he was perfectly happy right there looking at boobs.

🎃

Damon stepped into the shop area of the SuperFuel Deluxe and shook off the rain. There he saw his dad sitting on a folding chair listening, as another man held a lamp under their family station wagon from the Jurassic era. A third man was under the car working. The man holding the lamp was droning on and on about baseball. Damon didn't really care for baseball, or any sports for that matter.

“And then the Sox brought in their reliever, that guy Stroop, and he just completely fell apart. He hit two batters and walked another, and before you knew it the bases were loaded.” Quinn was saying.

Damon walked up to his dad. “Is that so---” Jack replied, but was startled when Damon tapped him on the shoulder.

“What is it son? You're not supposed to be back here.” Jack looked up at Damon.

“There's an arcade inside and I was wondering if you had any change on you?” Damon asked.

Jack leaned to one side and pulled his wallet out, withdrawing a 20 dollar bill. “Can they make change?” He asked.

“There's a change machine,” Damon said flatly, taking the money.

“You can play all of that, what the hell, it's been a long few days,” Jack said smiling.

Damon stuffed the twenty in his front pocket and turned, “Thanks,” he said.

“Tell your mom I'm in here,” Jack called after him.

“Haven't seen her,” Damon said as he walked out, without turning.

Quinn started up again, “So you know that big Dominican for the Cubs, Agu...Agu...something.”

“Aguilar,” Diego called from under the car.

“Yeah, Aguilar,” Quinn corrected himself. “Well he steps up to the plate and first pitch...bam!”

NEXT>>

[practically-an-x-man]

1, 6, 13, 21 for Katherine, I, K, L, Q for Quinn and Billy, and 💀🕷️🤖 for you

Thank you so much!!!

OC/Ship Ask Game: Firsts

Katherine:

First big aspiration (i.e. what did they want to be when they grew up?)

She knew since she was little that she wanted to be an artist, though what type of artist varied throughout different stages of her life. Being a comic artist was a big one for a while, at one point she thought about going into tattooing, and she never really recognized museum work as a venue until she was in it.

6. First time they realized their "calling" in life

Similar to the first answer, she'd wanted to be an artist since she was little and never really wavered in that being her "calling". Or, if you want to get more spiritual with it with the whole connection to the Egyptian pantheon, it was when she first learned that she could access the tablet's magic in ways the others (like Larry or the other night guards) couldn't, and she began to realize that she might have more of a connection to it than she knew.

13. First time being drunk/high

She's never been completely drunk or high in her life. She tends to be a little cautious about that sort of thing, and while she's been to a few parties with fellow art students that ended with her a little tipsy or a little buzzed, she's never done enough to be profoundly affected.

21. First major change in their life, and how they dealt with it

I think the first really dramatic change was her moving to NYC for art school - it was her first time living on her own, and she didn't have relatives nearby (though she quickly found a community of friends to support her), and there were a lot of things she had to adapt to that she'd never had to consider after living her whole life in the same town.

____

Four of Hearts (Quinn x Billy)

I. First time sleeping together (sexual)

It's actually mentioned in one of the Desert Song chapters, but it was the morning before the Oslo mission. This was about a week after the prior mission (and official confession of love between them), and really the main reason they hadn't done it earlier was because of Quinn's physical health - she had gotten injured during that prior mission and needed to heal up a bit.

K. First fight

First fight ever? Eh, who even knows. They're both pretty strong-willed people, and while most of the time they were able to talk things through without it turning into a fight, there were still plenty of times where they butted heads while planning their next gig.

First fight as a couple? Actually, that same morning before the Oslo mission - or, technically, the day after. I'll spare you the details of that because I'd rather you find out by reading the chapter itself (it's intense and very fun to read!), but a lot happened very quickly.

L. ....And the first time they had to make up

See above: after what happened with the Oslo mission. The good news is that they're pretty good about communicating with each other and were able to work through it instead of just simmering in resentment, but it was a hell of a fight.

Q. First act of non-sexual intimacy (e.g. washing the other's hair, taking a bath together, sharing food)

Speaking in general, they've patched each other up after gigs for years, long before they were ever officially in a relationship. But as a couple, Billy's very good about the non-sexual intimacy, especially when it's tied to caring for Quinn through her disabilities - that mission where she got injured? I mean, he stayed with her the whole way, helped her get comfortable, made sure she had food and painkillers and anything else she needed. Again, really fun, really lovely chapter, highly recommend.

____

💀 - First time writing character death, and how you felt about it

I feel like I've answered this one a few times before, but I think it was in a chapter of I'll Be Here to Catch You, my first fic! It was leading into the DOFP plot, a flash-forward to that "bad timeline" in which we see both Hank and Mira die incredibly painful, violent deaths. I really didn't hold back with the whump, since... I mean, anyone who's seen DOFP knows it'll all get reversed in the end, and I wasn't one for much canon divergence at the time.

I've never really been concerned about writing character death, you know I like whump and even as an inexperienced writer I liked trying to draw that strong emotion out of my writing. My only issue with character death is when it just doesn't make sense, either for the character themself or for the story they service, but I'm fine with character death when it has significant, logical impact.

🕷️ - First time writing something that scared you, and how it went

Idk, I really don't think there was anything about writing that really scared me. I love exploring new ideas, I always have, and if I was uncomfortable with something I knew the only way to get more comfortable was to practice.

Posting my writing, however, gave me a lot of anxiety for a while. I didn't have a very high opinion of my own skill or the stories I created, especially surrounded by so many more talented writers in the fandoms I wrote for, and I was worried someone might trash my story in some way or another. Nobody did, and gradually I got more comfortable with posting, but that was what really worried me rather than the act of writing itself.

🤖 - First nonhuman character you wrote

I mean, if mutants count as "nonhuman", my first OC EVER was nonhuman! And really, as mutants go, Mira's is more on the nonhuman side in general, given her mutations include a lot of various animal traits.

[practically-an-x-man]

41, 43, 49

Also I not actually a writer lo. Just have some ocs I keep in my head. (And one secret fic on my ao3)

-unofficial marvel

thank you! and ah ok, I assumed you were a writer bc of how many OCs you have, that's my bad.

answers are under the cut

41. Who's your most repressed/oblivious character? Who's your most aware character? What makes them different?

Madison's the most oblivious by FAR. She falls so fast and literally has no idea until MUCH later. Though Quinn's in the running too, now that I think about it. She recognizes her own feelings pretty early on, but refuses to acknowledge that those feelings are requited until literal years later.

In terms of most aware.... I think Rae's pretty shrewd, actually. For one thing, she's too sharp and direct to really beat around the bush, and for another, she doesn't really have time to waste on pining.

I think the main difference between them is that the ones that are oblivious actually have the time to try (and fail) to sort those feelings out. Rae, because of the context of her story, has to either accept her feelings or leave them behind, so she really doesn't get the chance to be oblivious in the first place. Rae and Madison are actually fairly similar people, so it's less of a personality thing and more of a context thing.

43. How do you feel about unhappy endings? Unrequited love? Major character death?

I feel like sometimes these things are very necessary for a good story. Sometimes that's just where the narrative wants to go, and that's completely okay. In fanfic, I don't write much of this myself, but I don't dislike any of these on principle.

49. What's your favorite relationship dynamic that you've seen in another work of fiction? Has this influenced your writing at all?

For romantic relationships: I really like Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy in the Amazing Spider-Man movies. And of course, Aziraphale and Crowley in Good Omens.

For non-romantic relationships: Every single relationship in Ghosts (CBS) is just amazing, they're all so unique and dynamic, and I think it's wonderful. I also love the character dynamics in X-Men: First Class (which... is probably pretty obvious) and they way they all develop those friendships while becoming a team.

(I'm sure there's more that I'm missing, but I can't think of them right now)

I feel like these have definitely influenced my writing style in some ways. I love character dynamics that involve incredibly close, long-term friendships, and my favorite romances are the ones that involve a lot of lighthearted teasing and banter.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 08 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Home isn't Always a Place

You're pushed forward, a gun on your back. You step down the ramp, the sunlight blinding you for a while. The headquarters were built here, in some sort of field. There as soldiers everywhere, and they're immediately aware of you. Of course they are, you're a threat. With a gun on your hand, seven bullets means seven men on the ground, crying in pain. You hardly miss.

“Sister!” A yell gets your attention, and you turn to its source. Harley comes running, throwing her arms around you. “So good to see you. Where have you been?”

In paradise. “Same place as I've been for the last year. Isn't it obvious?” Shrugging your shoulders casually, you try not to look to misplaced. Wait. Why would you look misplaced here?

“Well, now we get to have fun and some family bonding.” As she speaks, a soldier walking by gets her attention. “Hey, you. Can you help me with something?” She says in a flirting tone and walks away.

“Now it's a party.” A rough voice says, and you soon recognize the owner.

“Killer.” You greet him with a smile and a quick hug. “Nice to see you'll be here to have my back. Who else is here?”

“Deadshot is arguing with a soldier. Diablo is seated in some corner whining.” He smiles, gesturing at his left. “Long time no see. How's life?”

“Life's fine. As fine as it could be.” You start walking over where Deadshot is, watching as the soldier rolls his eyes. Floyd is gesticulating a lot, which means he's pissed.

“I won't have it like it was the last time. Now go, be a good puppy and tell this to your boss.” He says, turning his back at the man. “Havoc. Hi.” He says, exchanging a glance with Killercroc. “Ready for another stupid mission?”

“It's not like we have a choice, right? I–”

“Listen up, assholes! Your dirty things are in these boxes. So change and let's get the hell out of here. You have five minutes.” A man shouts, and everyone rolls their eyes.

You make your way to your things, and as you expected, your box is filled with your old clothes. All in shades of lilac, purple and pink. As usual, the soldiers just stand around you, not caring too much, as you change. You never liked that. Harley doesn't seem to care, and many eyes lay on her. But you do care. And you care a lot more now.

“Guys. A little help?”

Floyd and Killer grab some of the dark plastic bags that lie on the the floor, as you take a dark purple sleeveless jumpsuit. You move to stand near a wall, and the guys turn their backs at you, holding the bags high so you're shielded from anyone's eyes. They did the same on the first time, and you're very thankful for that.

“Thanks, guys. I'm done.” You tell them, fixing the jumpsuit on your body. The hard material makes you feel strong, like Havoc again.

“You're welcome.” Killer says.

“To the trucks! Now!” A man barks and you have no choice but to do as he says.

All of you go in the back of one of the trucks, together. Harley seems to be the only one excited about it, since she's trying to flirt with a soldier named Tom. You wonder what Joker would think about that. Oh. He's stuck on a bed for the rest of his life. He won't be saying anything, you bet.

As you move through the town, you can't help but think about what you did before leaving the house. The kiss. You can't believe you actually kissed him. What in hell were you thinking? You're very brave to do such a crazy thing like that. And you should've at least stayed to see his expression. To see if he was mad or not. But even if he didn't like it, you trust him enough to know he won't break his promise. He still keep helping you after you beat him up twice, so it's not a peck in the lips that will make him change his mind.

Being sure of this is a weird feeling. Your head is so much clearer now, you're not as scared as you were. And you're liking who you're becoming. This mission is just a inconvenience. It'll be over and you'll head back to the house, back to the way of getting a real life. A good life, a life you'll actually enjoy having.

You stop suddenly, and you're ordered out of the truck. “There's a small group here. Eyes open. They might have put mines here so... Don't blow up.”

You get two guns, one in your hand as you walk the perimeter. Harley stays close to Tom, but it doesn't bother you. You walk near Killercroc and Floyd, your head too far from this place.

“Hey.” Floyd elbows you. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I'm just... Thinking.” Shrugging your shoulders, you need to focus on being casual. “How's you daughter?”

“She's great. Best student of her class and she's in a hella good school. The best of Gotham.” He looks at the sides, making sure nobody is too close. Killercroc is a few steps ahead and he doesn't really care about these stuff anyways. “You will never guess who put her there. And also guaranteed her a good University, any one she chooses.”

“That's freaking amazing, Floyd. Who did all that?” It couldn't be Amanda. She's not that good.

“Batman.” The mention of Bruce makes you blush, your heart aching from his absence. You look down, running a hand through your hair.

“Batman? In like the man you hate with all your strength?”

“How can I hate someone who does that for my kid? No, no. I respect him. Even admire him now, doing this after I tried to kill him half a dozen times.”

“Floyd, he's...” You need to let out out your chest, and having someone to talk about it would be nice. And you know you can trust Floyd, even more now that his hate for Bruce is gone. So the words roll out your tongue in a whisper as you both stop walking. “...Batman is the one helping me... Rehabilitating me.”

“Oh. So the rumors are true. I knew they took you somewhere else, just didn't know where.”

“You two. Walk.” Someone says and you start moving again.

“Yes, he... I'm going well. I...” Floyd looks down at you, raising one eyebrow. “He said it was mostly just me, but he did help. He treated me with kindness, believed me. I don't know how to explain but I'm different.”

“I did notice something was off with you. But I'd never guess.”

“Really? I was trying to keep it cool.” As you speak, three man come from the corner, immediately shooting at you. You duck behind a car, peaking just enough to lay eyes on them and aim. But they're easily put down without you having to shoot.

“All clear!” Harley says, smiling.

“So...” You continue when you start walking downtown again. “I didn't want to come, but he promised me it would be the last time.”

“Uhm... He's making promises?”

“Yes.” You don't get his tone. “He's very kind to me. Unlike anyone else... He even threw me a birthday party.”

“Happy birthday by the way, and sorry it's a little late.” You turn the corner, carefully at first. “How kind?”

“Kind.” What else can you say? That his touch is so soft, so gentle that you couldn't help but fall in love with him? “He... Cares. I think.”

“You fell for him.” Floyd bursts out, and it's not even a question. It's an affirmative. How did he get there so fast?

But you're fast to dissimulate. “What? No.”

“It's called Stockholm Syndrome.”

“It's not like that!” You exclaim. “You know I've been kidnapped before. Twice by the Joker, who kept me hostage for five months... I did spent three of them just to play tricks on his mind and get some of his money but you get what I mean. Batman didn't held me hostage. He spoke to me, helped me get clean of the drugs they used to give me at Belle Reve, he... He won't let the door locked anymore. He wants me to be able to live in society again.”

“I was teasing you. But since you went into great lengths to defend your relationship with him... You did fell for him.”

“Shut up, Floyd.” You mutter, too much on your head. Increasing your pace, you reach Killer, walking beside him.

Your feelings are pretty clear, as much as you don't want to admit it. And hear it like that just makes it even worse. The kiss... All you think is about that kiss you shouldn't have given.

You're thankful when the action starts, because you have something else to focus on. It doesn't resumes in shooting, you eventually get into hand to hand combat. And you can deal with it pretty well. Of course, it's easier because the guys have your back. You guess they somehow noticed you have no pleasure on doing this anymore. Diablo, as usual, doesn't participate much.

When you stop, hours later, you feel your body complaining a little, but you know it'll get worse. But you also know you can deal with that. And you will, because this time you have somewhere nice to return to.

The commotion goes on for a couple of days. It gets messy, and it only gets worse when the granades start falling from the skies. You're all bruised up again, but not as bad as you were in the hell hole. How is it possible that you're in the middle of a war and you're not as much hurt as you were inside a prison?

As you approach the terrorists base, things get worse, and even the soldiers seem to get anxious. So that means they're extra evil to you. One of them denied you a bottle of water, what made Killercroc almost get his head blown out for arguing with the man. That reminds you that you don't have an explosive this time, but the soldiers told you they will put a bullet through your head if you try anything. But they can rest their minds because the only thing you want is to end this soon.

A week later, the soldiers decide to settle for the night, and push you into a half destroyed house. Harley uses all the hot water, so you have to endure the cold. But it feels good to clean up, and you can take a look at your wounds. A few cuts and purple bruises, nothing you can't deal with. The only bad part of the times you stop to rest a little before start moving again, is that your mind involuntary floats back to Bruce. You can't help it, everything comes back. When he left his gala to dance with you, the dreams, the birthday surprise, the kiss... Why can't you take this man out of your head?

You're alone in a room where half of the wall is down. The others are downstairs, but you want to be alone. You can see the stars from here, and you wonder if Bruce is staring at them too. “Hey, freak.” A soldier comes in, throwing a small radio at you, that looks like a very rustic cellphone. “Someone wants to speak to you. You have five minutes.”

Watching as he leaves, you lie back on the floor, approaching the radio from your ear and mouth. You know who it is, and your stomach goes crazy, with a thousand butterflies flying around.

“Hi.” He answers. “How are you?”

His voice is so familiar, like home. “I'm surviving. Enduring. Just want this to be over soon.”

“It will. And you'll be back here.”

“I hope so... We're near their base now. So only a couple of days more and we'll reach it. Take them down.” You close your eyes, hoping that his voice will be enough to make you dream of him tonight. You would give anything to have him here... Or to be back home. You mean, back at his house. “How's everything there?" Stupid question, he's fine, everything is fine.

“It's weird not to have you here.”

A smile comes to your lips. “Is it?” You whisper, taking a deep breath. You're scared you'll lose control, and the words will roll out your tongue. “Our time is almost over but... Thank you, I... It's good to speak to you.”

“Just remember I'm waiting for you.” You hear his heavy breath, as if he's suffering too, tired, exhausted.

Then you hear a little static, and you know he's gone... There's a weight on your chest and you can't help but let a single tear roll down your cheek. You keep the radio near your face, as if you could hold Bruce with a little longer. “I miss you so much.” You say, barely recognizing your weak voice.

“I miss you too.” The sudden answer scares you, your eyes widened.

“I- I thought you hanged up.”

“No, I'm still here. And I miss you very much, sweetheart.”

The pet name makes you lose it, and now you're crying. “Bruce, I–”

“Time's up, Havoc.” The soldier comes back, hand reached out. “Say goodbye to your protector.”

“I gotta go. I... I miss you.” You burst out before another sentence, far more dangerous, leaves your lips. You give the man the radio back, curling up on the floor, bracing yourself.

From tomorrow, you'll fight harder. You need to go back.

• • •

“Their base–” The soldier who announces is shot in the throat, right beside you. You're duck behind the barricades, waiting for the big guns to arrive. You cannot approach with the risk of being blown up, and they're not allowed to spend you just yet.

“That's it. Shoot to kill, that's an order.” The commandant yells, and the bodies start dropping faster. But not from your gun. You keep aiming for their knees, but another bullet always finds the man you leave collapsed on the floor. “Are you deaf, slut?” He barks at you, leaving his post and pulling you up by the shoulders. “Don't you think you can trick me just because the Bat took you into his wings. Do what you do best and kill those terrorists.”

“I don't kill, sarg.” You tell him, making your way back to your post. But the grabs your arm violently, squeezing right on a wound you got. You groan, trying to pull away.

“You don't kill? Nice try. You will do as I say!” He yells right to your face, and you can feel his disgusting breath. But you won't back down, and you won't take a life just because he told you to.

“I don't kill.” You repeat, standing as tall as you can, head up raised up to look the man in the eye.

His gun makes sudden contact with your face, in the apple on the right cheek. Your head jerks to the side, and you're knocked down, a sharp pain spreading through the skull.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Killercroc comes running, and you see through the corner of your eyes as he engages in a fight with the man.

You're done here. Crawling away from the fight, you hide yourself behind a building, seated on the floor and resting your back against the wall. They seem to be dealing with that very well, so they don't need you. You're tired of fighting, tired of being in pain.

“Havoc?” Floyd calls, startling you a little. “Are you ok? Your cheek is–”

I'm (Y/N). “Yes, I'm ok. But I'm not going back there.”

“You'll have to tell them you're feeling unwell or else–”

“I don't care, ok? I just need to go back home. I'm sick and tired of this shit.” You burst out.

“Home?” He questions, not seeming too excited to head back to the battlefield.

“Yeah, just... I'm confused, I'm hurt. I'm not thinking straight.”

“I have to head back. Sorry.”

Nodding, you close your eyes, taking in the explosions and shooting. The only thing you want is peace now, silence... Bruce's arms. A heavy, cold rain starts falling, and you're soaking wet in a matter of seconds. Your head spins around, and you lie down, eyes closed tight.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a heavy sleep.

• • •

“Lucky bitch. We should be taking her back to where she belongs.” A rough voice wakes you up, and you sit up, eyes opening slowly. You're in a truck, in the back, on the metal floor. Your hands are tied by huge metal handcuffs, that cover both hands, reaching the middle of your forearm. It's heavy.

“Let's teach her a lesson. Just like old times.” A man say, and you recognize two out of six, both were your guards in Belle Reve.

“Don't leave too many bruises. She'll be with Batman in ten minutes, he'll notice.”

Ten minutes... You're going back. This truck in taking you back. Lowering your head, you smile, breathing deeply.

“She was with the Task Force. He'll think she got them there.”

“Fine then.” You're pulled back, a dark, heavy fabric covering your head. “This is just to remind you of who you are, Havoc.”

“And to give you a nice memory of home.”

The beating starts, and your body easily collapses to the floor again. But you're lifted up, again and again. You should fight. You should do something, but you can't. You're not the superpowerful girl you thought you were. You break too, and you get hurt. And you are hurt, with countless cuts and wounds through your body. When you were high on whatever they gave you, you could keep moving. Now you can't. Being vulnerable, weak, feels awful, but there's just no strength in you. You just need to make it through the last ten minutes that separate you from home.

Home.

When exactly did the house became that?

Or is it Bruce? Is he the one becoming your home? Is it even possible? You hope it is.

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@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker