#but my guy peter? no. too much of a bitch. love him for it

[anatomical-puppet]

very funny to me that i’ve seen jigsaw apprentice au content for basically every important character except strahm. he is a hater through and through and no alternate reality will ever change that. and by god i just think that’s beautiful <3

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Not Too Late

✧.* Pair - Miguel O'hara x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Swearing, a tiny bit of violence, sexual and also little violent choking, implied smut at the end.

✧.* Summary - Miguel knew from the moment he laid eyes on her, she would cause a lot of trouble for him...

✧.* Extra - Reader is a variant of Black Cat. Also I was listening to Not Too Late by Kali Uchis while writing this so... do what you want with that.

✧.* Word Count - 1,012

Miguel has dealt with many creatures, bad guys, and anti-heroes in his life being in places where they shouldn't, but there was one specific situation that he couldn't get rid of. He was utterly confused as to why he couldn't simply send her home just like the others. According to him, she was annoying, arrogant, sneaky, infuriating, and downright a bitch. Lyla would always tell him to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he always just rolls his eyes whenever the hologram tells him that.

"If you hate Y/N so much, then why don't you send her back home?"

He always hears that question over and over again whenever he unknowingly goes on rants about her. Most of the time Miguel ignores the question or makes up a stupid excuse about her being useful in certain missions. He knew his excuses were bullshit. He would never send Y/N on any missions because he "doesn't trust her".

Yet, that little voice inside his head couldn't help but admire Y/N. She is an insanely strong human being. Good with sneaking around, had excellent vision and balance, had a unique ability to alter bad luck, attractive, plush thighs, plump lips, and soft skin. Miguel hated whenever he would think of something positive about Y/N, but he couldn't help it.

Some would think that Miguel's "hatred" for Y/N was love in disguise. Lyla would poke at him for "secretly being in love with Y/N". No matter how many times he would deny it, the little voice in the back of his head would only laugh at him denying it. There are moments Miguel would think about Y/N; how she would look outside of her tight latex suit, waiting for him in bed, ready for him to fuck her. But no matter how many times he would think of her that way, he would express his feelings of hatred towards her to the public.

She had sex appeal and he couldn't deny it. And if there was a chance, he would fuck her.

Y/N was a one-of-a-kind woman. The moment she laid her eyes on Miguel, she knew she had found the one... to pick at. She loved getting under his skin. Why? According to her, it was hot whenever he looked like he was on the verge of beating the shit out of her. She also loved arguing with him. It didn't matter the topic. She just loved the way he would raise his voice at her.

Y/N knew Miguel had sex appeal. She would do anything to get dicked down by him.

Well, luckily for Y/N, she was stuck in one of the situations where Miguel was mad at her. It all started when Miguel sensed her presence in his working headroom.

"Get out, L/N."

Y/N could only smirk, "Oh, but why would I do that, O'hara?" Y/n walked closer to him and stopped once she was about 2-3 feet away from him. He was looking at whatever boring multiverse task he needed to concentrate on with his back turned to her.

"Because I don't want you in here distracting me. Go bother someone else." He stated with annoyance in his voice.

"Why are you always so miserable, Miguel? The Spiderman on my earth is always open to listen to my jokes and have fun." Y/N said with a hint of teasing in her voice.

Miguel could only roll his eyes, "Then go to that Spiderman and leave me alone."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. She hated whenever he would say something like that because truth be told, she didn't really like hanging out with the other spider-people. Unless it was Jessica, Hobie, Peter B, or Gwen. She always wanted to be around Miguel because she loved messing with him.

Suddenly, she got an idea in her head. An idea that she knew would piss him off.

"I hope you know a lot of the spiders are running around, spreading that you have a little crush on me. And that's the reason why you won't kick me out because you secretly love being around me." Y/N imparted.

Miguel paused what he was doing, and his eyes became slightly wider. His entire world seems to have fallen apart, but why? He pretends to despise her, but does he also have romantic feelings for her that he is unaware of? Why was it so important to him that she told him that? Miguel turned around to look at Y/N.

"From the look on your face, I can see that-"

"Who is spreading this misinformation?" he asked in a demanding tone. Y/N could only smirk.

"Wipe that smug smile off your fucking face and-"

"That doesn't matter," she walked closer to him and started rubbing her fingers up and down his muscular arm, "It's okay to admit you love and need me. I know things could get a little lonely down here and-" but before Y/N could finish her sentence, Miguel grabbed her by the throat and slammed her on his table. (Lyla calls it his working table. ) Not too hard to hurt her, but to force her where she needed to be.

That was the moment he realized he was done hating. He was done ignoring the fact he was attracted to her. He was done ignoring the fact that there was always sexual tension between them. He wanted to shut her up and destroy her. Make her a whimpering and moaning mess because of him. He was finally happy to release all of his sexual frustration and anger on her body.

He got on top of her and started zipping down the zipper to her suit, exposing her tits and the black panties she wore underneath. He started to lower himself to the same level as her pussy and looked up at her with those venomous eyes. He started to slowly remove her panties and smirked at her reaction.

"Maybe this will finally shut you up."

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

yo

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/746437065634463744/i-think-bc-peter-is-so-much-more-affectionate-with

she is such a princess

i can picture her talking to some friends and she’s like ‘you mean… your boyfriend doesn’t worship your every step?’ ‘give you a hundred kisses for simply breathing?????????’

and she’s gobsmacked like she goes to tell peter and he’s just so smug like yes…….. i spoiled u JDJDJDJS

*the people's princess!!! cleaning out my inbox!*

'you know sadie?' a gentle hum pulls from peter's throat, he focuses on you while he chews on a random bag of fruit snacks. 'her boyfriend is a total loser, you should hear some of the things she tells me. and it's all super casual too! like it's normal for your boyfriend to hate you!'

'her boyfriend hates her?' you take a gummy and nod. 'he calls her a bitch anytime she does something he doesn't like, he always has something to say when she eats anything, and he called her a slut for answering a text from her boss, who's a woman by the way!'

peter wants to throw this piece of shit around so he can see what it feels like. 'so then i told her about some of the things you do for me and she rolled her eyes and said i was 'high maintenance,' like it's unachievable to have a boyfriend who treats you like he loves you.'

you take another fruit snack, he always saves you the reds. 'and another one, penny? she's the one dating the reporter guy?' peter makes a weak connection, he's heard the name before.

'remember when you brought those flowers to me last week when we were all hanging out? not you, but me, penny, sadie and mason?' peter nods and shifts you on his lap, you sink in even further.

'so she asked me if we got in a fight or if i was mad at you for something and i told her no, you always buy me flowers just because. so, penny tells me ahmed only ever gets her flowers when he's trying to make up for something and sadie told me you're probably cheating on me.'

peter feels his mouth open a little, 'what? how the hell did she-' you stop him, 'mason called her an idiot and told her to stop projecting.' you give his cheek three kisses in a row.

'so, thank you for loving me and being kind and patient and just a total sweetheart because i had no idea how bad it could be out there.' peter had set a standard he didn't know existed, no matter what, he'd be the better boyfriend.

'thank yourself, cherry. you're easy to love... and spoil.' 

[frankenkyle19]

Go Slow, Speedster

Peter Maximoff x reader smut

description: word count 1.1k (I hate this but I wanted to put something out for you guys) You teach Peter that going fast isn’t always how it should be done

No one but yourself would know how much of a whiney bitch Peter Maximoff was in bed. It almost seemed a bit over the top at times, but it was a 100% authentic reaction. He was a big baby, and a pillow princess. 

He wanted what he wanted and he wanted it when he wanted it. The only problem was sometimes he got carried away. Cared too much for his own pleasure and left you wanting. He didn’t do it on purpose of course, and always made sure to apologize, but in the moment he got so lost in his own pleasure that he really couldn’t think of anything else.

That’s why it was your job to teach him. Patience was a virtue after all, and little Peter would soon learn the pleasures of going slow. 

It had been another normal day. Well, as normal as your day could be when you were dating a mutant with superspeed. He had just finished a mission, something or another, he didn’t really care to share about his ‘job’ with you, because he found it boring. And because he found better ‘things’ to do with you.

That’s how you had ended up completely undressed with him on top of you in under a minute. Damned super speed. 

Now sure, you loved seeing him like this, but sometimes you liked it slow, and that was definitely not something Peter did a lot. In every aspect of his life he was unnaturally fast, so of course it was the same in the bedroom.

You tried to pry your lips away from his own for just a second as he whined, his cock hanging heavy between the two of you as he looked at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes of his. So tempting.

“Can I put it in? Please momma-“ you felt a shiver crawl up your spine at his words. He knew exactly how to get his way. But not today. Today you wouldn’t give in. 

He rutted against you impatiently, a thick trail of sticky pre-cum rubbed against your thigh. He huffed quietly as he awaited an answer. 

A smile crept onto your lips and Peter, bless him, mistook this as a good thing. It was a good thing, but not for him.

Before he knew it, you had completely taken control of the situation. To be fair… you were always in control of Peter. He was wrapped around your finger.

“Go ahead baby, fuck me-“ He wasted no time in positioning his leaky cock at your entrance.

“But-“ you stopped him, reaching down and running your thumb over the thick, red cockhead that sat at your entrance.

Peter mewled, bucking up against your hand as he cried out. 

“Momma-“

“Let me talk, Peter. Or you won’t get anything, okay baby boy?”

He bit his lip to keep quiet and nodded, eyes hazy and body buzzing with energy.

“You can fuck me, but, you’re going to go at my pace tonight.”

It could be worse for him. You could deny him the ability to fuck you at all. This shouldn’t be too bad, he could do this… Right?

He nodded once more, finally, finally getting to feel your tight heat envelop him. He instantly finds a pace that suits him, only to be stopped by you squeezing your thighs around his waist.

“Ah ah ah, slowwww, Mr. Quicksilver.”

He groaned softly. He always loved when you called him quicksilver and you never really knew why. Maybe he had some weird superhero fucking their fan fetish. Didn’t really matter to you, you didn’t mind calling him that so it was fine.

“Momma-“ he complained, hips still moving slowly in and out of you. So he was going to be stubborn. Well, that’s his own fault. 

“You want to be a good boy for me don’t you? Then go slow. Feels so good for me when you go slow. I know it feels good for you too.”

He swallowed down a whimper as he nodded, his hips meeting yours with gentle, slow thrusts. You could tell it was killing him by the way sweat formed on his brow and his whole body shook.

Your head fell back into the pillows as you let out a quiet sigh. It felt so good to have him go slow for once. He grazed those sensitive spots inside you perfectly like this.

Peter buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses there. He was doing better than you thought, until you felt drops of what felt like water on your neck.

 He was crying.

“Baby boy, hey- what’s wrong?”

“Wanna go fast momma- please- fuck I need it please I’ll be good next time just let me- please-“ he sniffled desperately, his cock quite literally vibrating inside of you.

This had been progress, so you couldn’t be too mad. Plus he had asked so nicely.

“Okay baby, just don’t go too fast.” You chuckled, already reaching to hold onto his shoulders. 

He could go fast. Like really fast. But despite how fast he could be, he never fully let himself go, because he never wanted to hurt you.

He held his head up as he got into a better position before he began to thrust back into you. His pace was absolutely brutal, and the sound of slick skin slapping against skin was absolutely sinful. 

His moans were even more so. He was so vocal you’d think he was in pain. Nope. Quite the opposite.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck-“ he cursed, hips now moving at almost inhuman speed against you, bed creaking as he fucked into you, his body blurred at the edges from how fast he was going.

You could tell he was close by the way the muscles in his neck began to pop out and get more prominent. Gasping, you clawed at his back as he hit a heavenly spot inside you. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

“Oh fuck Peter- quicksilver- just like that, right there, I’m close.” You choked out, holding onto him for dear life as he fucked you into the mattress.

Peter seemed to double down his efforts, determined to get you there before he fell over the edge himself.

It wasn’t long before your pleasure was building until it could no more. The band in your stomach snapped as waves of pleasure washed over you, sending you into a blurry, hazed euphoria.

Peter pulled out of you, stroking himself at inhuman speed, his hand flying across his cock so fast you could barely even see his movements. He came across your chest, doubling over in pleasure. His hand fell away from his cock as the last of his release dribbled from his tip. 

Maybe next time he’d learn that being slow could feel just as good. 

[kairiscorner]

okokk hear me OUT, you know that movie jennifer check by megan fox?? the succubus demon that loves to seduce men and trick them inti having sex with her before she eats them? can you imagine her snd miguel?? like idk maybe the team thought that she’d be a great addition and also bc she ‘promised’ to be good but miguel’s like ??!?! fuck no that bitch maybe hot but she kills men and bat shit crazy yet one single look at her and he melted like a goddamn puddle

HI, oh yo...... reader sounds kinda hot ngl, i volunteer to be seduced and eaten ✋ I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel o'hara x succubus!reader

summary: you were dangerous, awfully dangerous–but you were powerful and a great asset to have in the spider society. the only one opposed to your addition to the team was him, who was way of every move you were gonna make here in HQ. but of course... he's only human, partially human, at least–he's weak when it comes to you, but he'll never admit it. word count: 679 a/n: might make an nsfw version of this on my sideblog HEHE this is pretty sfw for the most part, just some suggestive content below the cut, so be warned

"you've got a lot of spunk for someone that can easily be killed when you don't get fed. for such a... pathetic creature..." miguel trailed off as he felt your fingers creeping up on his broad chest, his gaze never leaving yours as you purred in a low voice and inched closer and closer to him. miguel gulped back the lump in his throat and coughed a little to compose himself. "...a pathetic creature that steals lives doesn't... have any place in my elite for–" "do i have a place in your bed, then?" you asked him in a suggestive whisper, with miguel gasping silently and taking in a deep breath, holding it in as you leaned closer towards him with a wide grin on your face.

"i'm talking to you." miguel said in a stern voice as you giggled, tracing over the curve of his waist. he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to his face, with his eyes going red as he glared at you with an evident frown. "you won't feed on me. i know what you're doing, and it's not gonna work." he seethed as he tried to keep his composure, but you were more cunning than him. you leaned over to him and planted a kiss on his nose, which he grumbled at... but released your wrist from his grasp. you didn't pull away from him, however, you instead sauntered over to him even closer and breathed down his neck; which... he really did not hate.

miguel shuddered as he felt you press your lips against his neck, feeling his face all the way down to his shoulders get hotter and hotter. he shut his eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows together in a frustrated manner. he was frustrated with how gwen and peter b took you in despite the danger you posed, how he now has to deal with you, how... how well your charms worked on him before the real seduction began. he was frustrated with how much you're making him want you.

"tell me..." you muttered as you placed your hands on his chest and gazed at him with a burning desire in your eyes, a dangerous, fiery desire dancing in your pupils. "...are you going to be good for me?" you asked him, and despite every single voice in his mind telling him to say no, no to your temptation, no to your seduction... "...yes." miguel uttered as you brought your lips closer to his own, your fangs baring as you chuckled. "good boy..." you whispered as miguel leaned closer to meet you halfway–when he suddenly lunged forward, baring his own longer, sharper fangs, and pinned you against the ground. you hissed as his weight kept you on the floor, his face only inches away from yours. you scratched at him, but he didn't let up. "look at me." he uttered as you looked at him from the corner of your eyes. "don't ever think... i'm that easy to fool." he said as his nose brushed against yours, his red eyes bearing into yours. "do i make myself clear?"

you slowly nodded as miguel's grip on you lightened, and he retracted his fangs. he pulled away and got off you not long after and went back over to his platform to monitor the multiverse. "i'd love to play with you again sometime, miggy." you said in a teasing tone as you strut out of his office, with him not sparing you a second glance or another word. "you thought that was super hot, didn't you?" lyla asked him teasingly. "keep tabs on her movements." miguel ordered her as she raised an eyebrow. "why, so you can ask her to–" "i'm not gonna ask her for any favors." "not even...?" "...at least not yet." miguel finished as the warmth in his whole upper body from you charming him up remained, and he just can't shake it off on his own. he'd be keeping an eye on you from now on... a very, very close eye on you from now on.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[cosmicpearlz]

a drop of your good love

summary: he’d kill for you just as along as you loved him as much as he loved you.

pairing: gf!ethan landry x reader

warnings: a very graphic description of a murder

a/n: got inspired by another song and this one is ‘kill for your love’ by labrinth :) (i literally wrote this in like 30 minutes)

…………………………………………………………………………….

ethan knew he was in love with you since mindy introduced you into the friend group. something about your personality and character had drawn him to you. all he wanted to do was be close to you. near you.

when he finally confessed his feelings to you after a couple months of friendship, he was surprised to find out that you felt the same. you were finally his and nothing was gonna get in the way of that.

“hey cutie, you here all alone?”

“no, i’m here with my boyfriend and friends,” you replied to the creepy guy that stood too close to you while you were getting another round of drinks.

“i don’t see them anywhere,” his smirk sent red flags in your head. you looked for ethan to find he wasn’t there. maybe off to the bathroom but you needed an out. you turned around once more and made eye contact with chad. you frantically waved him over, to which he gets up with no hesitation.

“there you are, we were getting worried.”

“this is the boyfriend?”

“what’s it to ya, huh?” chad sized up the guy, ready to fight if need be. you were practically his best friend and he’d do anything to protect you.

“i’m just saying she could be with a real man,” the guy goes to grab at your arm but chad stopped that immediately by shoving him.

“keep your fucking hands to yourself,” the bartender finally notices the commotion and calls over security to get the man thrown out.

“what happened baby?” ethan wraps an arm around your waist and you leaned into him. feeling even safer with your boyfriend with you.

“that asshole was bothering y/n while you went to the bathroom. i made sure to set him straight,” chad explained to the boy and patted his shoulder.

“you okay love?” he gently grabs both of your cheeks tilting your head up to look at him.

“yeah, just a bit shook.”

ethan places a kiss on your forehead and takes a look at the man arguing with security. the boy was fuming with anger, how dare someone try to take what’s his? his eyes darken with delight, already knowing how he would make that man pay.

-

it didn’t take long for ethan to find every bit of information on the guy. his name, address, and job, all quickly accessed in the matter of twenty minutes. little did peter know, he wouldn’t live to see another day to harass another person ever again.

“so peter, you like to harass people, huh?”

“man, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ethan had peter on his knees like the bitch he was, begging for his life.

“oh but you do know. you remember at the club last saturday.”

“i didn’t mean to do it! i swear!”

“i’m afraid time is up. you should’ve known better peter.”

ethan knocked him in the head with the lamp close beside him. successfully knocking the other boy down, he bends down and starts to slash him with his knife. blood splatting all over the ghostface costume but that didn’t bother ethan.

the boy started to picture the way your soft face had a tense look to it. it made him stab peter more and more. getting revenge for you was all he cared about. you, his baby shouldn’t be scared of a loser like peter. shouldn’t be worried about people like him.

peter stayed sprawled out on his living room floor in a pool of his own blood. ethan had stabbed him over a hundred times and ended with slashing his neck and tying his intestines around his cut neck. that’ll show that motherfucker was the thought that ran through ethan’s head before he left the crime scene.

-

you were walking into your shared apartment with ethan. stressed out from a draining work day, all you wanted to do was be in your loving boyfriends arms.

“ethan?” the sight of your sweet boyfriend who you believed couldn’t hurt a fly was bleaching his ghostface mask. the black robe still covered in red blood and what looked like chunks of human flesh.

“baby,” his heart dropped as you stood frozen in place. you weren’t supposed to be home early. ethan steps close to you, only for you to step back.

“what the fu-“

“i did it for you my love. he bothered you and i wasn’t there to help. so i killed him because he doesn’t deserve to live life after that,” your eyes watered and you couldn’t fully process what was happening.

“this was not for me ethan.”

“oh but it was. i’d kill everyone who even thinks about trying to touch you. tries to bother you. tries to be near what’s mine.”

as small tears run down your cheeks, you couldn’t help but to be overwhelmed. you felt just as fucked up as your boyfriend for feeling some what honored knowing he’d kill for you. feeling slightly turned on by his animalistic killing nature.

“i love you so much darling and i’d do anything for you.” the silence was killing ethan, if you didn’t accept him he’d have to handle it. that being killing you but he couldn’t do that. you were the love of his life. he needed you.

“i love you too ethan,” you whispered knowing what this now meant for you. you couldn’t really find it in you to care once you looked into those big brown eyes. maybe in fates own twisted way, you guys were always meant for each other.

“i want to kiss you so bad baby but i gotta get cleaned up first,” he gestured to his blood cover self making you giggle. you bit your lip and nodded, walking closer to him.

“hurry and you can get all of the kisses you want. maybe a little bit more.”

“remember darling, i’d kill for just a drop of your good love because all we’ll ever need is us,” he whispered before carefully kissing your cheek. he didn’t want to get anything on you but boy he couldn’t wait to touch you since you were all his.

[undead-supernova]

HIGH TOLERANCE

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Masterlist

warnings: gay disasters, Steve (derogatory), a bit of angst but that's a given for pining best friend!eddie so enter at your own risk, weed consumption (but what's new in a series about weed consumption)

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader (both bisexual bitches)

plot: let's go sing some karaoke and feel like we're dying, shall we?

wc: 6k

p.s. I listened to "Watch" by Maisie Peters the entire time I wrote this and I just cannot for the life of me let The Good Witch go. Anyone else in a chokehold from that album? Anyways, here you go!

Part 2: "Live Resin"

“For you, my good sir!” you exclaimed, feigning a British accent as you got down on one knee and presented Eddie with a joint like it was a sword. And it was an immediate scrape to your knee, your black crop top and miniskirt riding up. You tried to save yourself by planting your maroon Converse on the ground, but it was met with instant failure. Eddie chuckled, grabbing your arm to try and stabilize you before he continued the bit. 

(Leave it to Eddie Munson to commit to a bit.)

“For me?” he asked, feigning a gasp as he threw his hand over his chest, his rings clinking together. “You shouldn’t have.”

You exaggerated a wink as you stood back up. 

“Sure, I did.”

“Wha’da we got, Weirdo?”

You repeated what the guy at Jailbait Hemp told you. It was a THC-A pre-roll that was covered in live resin (which technically has a higher concentration level than just the THC-A alone). It burned differently than other joints, a glaze lining the paper to burn like honey. 

Let it in slow and watch it go.

“She sure is a pretty one,” Eddie said, lightly running the pad of his pointer finger along the resin. It didn’t flake off or leave any residue on his finger. Incredible.

You smirked. “I know, right?”

“Kinda like you.”

You swallowed immediately, nearly choking as the spit went down wherever the wrong pipe was located.

Panic, panic, panic. 

“Oh, whatever,” you said, waving him away. You distracted yourself with wiping the gravel off of the scrape on your knee that showed promise of blood but stayed put. The most embarrassing thing you could think of was having to ask someone for a Band-aid because you were too busy doing a bit with a joint to remember that you weren’t wearing pants. Eddie would love that a little too much and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re right,” Eddie said with a nod, causing you to look back up. “Doesn’t come close to you, m’lady.” Without another word or time for you to even remotely process, he held out his hand and made obnoxious grabbing gestures. “Alright. Gimme, gimme. Wanna light her up.”

With shaky fingers, you handed it over. Eddie took his black Bic lighter and ran the flame back and forth against the twisted end of the paper. It took him two or three tries to keep it lit, but he finally got it, moving it around in circles to let it burn as evenly as it could. The air instantly thickened with the smell. But to be fair, you smelled weed wherever you went in Atlanta. Even on the highway somehow.

You could hear the music from Go Ask Mary from two blocks away, the bass of Madonna’s “Vogue” booming through the walls. It was almost time for karaoke to start and, to be honest, you were excited. Eddie had picked up some extra shifts at the car dealership and your shitty retail jobs at the Lenox Square mall had been draining. Especially when you were surrounded by stores like Chanel and Tiffany & Co. It was always your dream to work at a Sephora where all the pretentious rich people complained about needing a new Balenciaga bag before arguing with you when their sheer Tom Ford lipstick was out of stock. 

This was the first time you’d seen Eddie in a week, despite him practically begging to come over at 2am to watch the first Lord of the Rings movie on a Monday. The extended edition to be exact, all three hours of Elijah Wood and Sean Astin being the most iconic couple of the fantasy realm. It was embarrassing to admit, but you nearly considered calling out just so you could.

Tonight, you couldn’t wait to let off some steam, especially with the person who made every day worth it. Eddie looked as he usually did with all his chains and rings and pretty face and attitude. It was disgustingly unfair that he could wear variations of the same outfit every time you saw him and somehow looked better and better every time.

“There you guys are,” Steve sighed as he and Robin walked over from the bar. 

Steve was still in his suit, just without his tie and blazer. A few buttons of his white button down were popped with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Robin wore an oversized cotton button down, white with navy stripes and a loose navy tie. She looked like she was going to the beach for the day, even going so far as to wear jean shorts and checkerboard Vans.

“We should’ve known you were smoking,” Robin said, nose wrinkling before she pulled out her flask from her back pocket and took a few sips. “Did you know that one joint is, like, the equivalent of five cigarettes? I heard it on a podcast the other day and, believe me, that sounds bad. Like, really bad.”

“What else is new?” you joked, taking the joint from Eddie and filling your lungs with a few hearty drags. “At least we’re not vaping. That’s, what, the equivalent of a hundred cigarettes?”

Robin shook her head. “Actually, I read that a thousand-puff vape is the equivalent of five to six packs.” She paused, moving her fingers through the air as she solved the problem in her head. “So…about one-twenty?”

Eddie hummed, nodding. “Aren’t you glad I stopped smoking cigs six months ago?”

“Well, yes.”

“So smoking weed should be the least of your worries, Buckley.”

“You have a point. But honestly—"  

“Rob!” Steve interrupted. “Rob, listen. I have exciting news.”

“What is it?” you asked.

“I’m getting the first round,” he said proudly. “I got a bonus at work.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, genuinely touched by the offer. “That’s awesome, though. You’re literally moving up in the world.”

“Bringing in the big bucks, this one,” Eddie teased with a big smile as he took the joint from you. “Always a generous giver.”

Steve glared at Robin. “She thinks I should quit.”

“No, I do not!” Robin argued. “I just think you’re in a weird environment with weird men—" 

The high was already making its way through you, causing you to not-so-subtly stare at Eddie again. His eyes were trained on yours as Steve and Robin rattled on, entering some bickering fest that you were positive he wasn’t listening to. And the way he was looking at you… Well, it didn’t seem that platonic, did it? 

His eyes were doing that thing again, that slow gaze down your body before reaching back up to your eyes. Your fingers inched just a little bit closer to his and you almost swore you could hear his rings again as they fluttered towards yours. 

Robin cleared her throat, causing you to look back at her. She was eyeing you specifically, not even bothering to look at Eddie. 

Could she see it? What did she know? Was there anything to know?

“Well, we’ll be inside,” she said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “Have fun with the extra cancer!”

Eddie chuckled. “Thanks, Buckley.”

You watched them walk away, right back in their little fight. It was nice to be around them again. Truly, it was. You didn’t have too many friends outside of Eddie, always working during the week and never truly finding time to go out unless Eddie dragged you along. You could engage in small talk with strangers at Go Ask Mary on the weekends, but it was different when you got home and found your phone void of anyone to tell those stories to. Zero messages, not even from your parents or your sister. No Instagram DMs of cute animals or Tumblr messages of photography and memes. Just a phone that looked more like a coffin full of wires than access to the whole world.

Except for Eddie.

As he turned back to you, he lifted the joint and let it hover just above your lips. 

“Want some more?” he asked.

You looked up at him, nearly startled by how close he was to you. God, what was it about him? Maybe it was the dark color of his eyes, still illuminated in the warm sunset, nearly glazed over with a golden sheen. Maybe it was the way his hair was doing that thing after a fresh wash where the ends were slightly curlier than the rest. Or maybe it was the way his tips of his sneakers were meeting yours and the smell of tobacco and car air freshener was wafting off of him.

“Come on, you can’t deny you want it.”

“Um,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Yeah, I want it.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you felt his fingers grazing your mouth as he placed it in between your lips. You took a long, slow drag while your eyes never left his. You wanted to look away. Really, you did. If anything, the sparks settling in your stomach were starting to pop and sizzle unlike ever before. 

You just couldn’t help yourself.

And if anything, he didn’t seem like he could either.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

The bar wasn’t very crowded, but that’s why you liked to go as a group during the week. Even if there weren’t many people looking to do karaoke on a Tuesday, it didn’t matter. There were four of you ready to tear up the fucking stage.

You went in rotation for solo performances, Robin singing “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac followed by you singing “Love Is a Stranger" by Eurythmics (despite it technically not being from the Eighties) followed by Eddie doing “The Stroke” by Billy Squire and finishing with Steve’s off-key rendition “Africa” by Toto.

When Steve returned from his noteworthy performance, the three of you congratulated him. He did a little bow before wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

Eddie patted the table and said, “Alright, I’ll go get the next round.” As he was about to leave, he looked at you. “Still want a vodka Redbull?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile. 

He gave you a quick wink. “Just checking, Weirdo.”

“Thanks.”

You turned back to Steve and Robin, watching Steve dab his face with a napkin. He was mostly definitely inching towards being drunk, always starting to turn red and sweaty whenever he was getting close. That, and he started to run his mouth.

“God, he’s dreamy,” Steve said, leaning his head in one hand. You followed his line of sight, all three of you watching Eddie walk to the bar. “It’s almost annoying how hot he is.”

Robin snorted. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Anyone was allowed to find him hot. It didn’t mean anything. Just a bit of flattery, that’s all. But then it was like you couldn’t stop yourself and suddenly you were unable to keep yourself from asking the one thing you never ever should have.

“Do you have a crush on Eddie?”

You watched Steve laugh pitifully. “I mean, maybe?”

“Maybe? What does ‘maybe’ mean, Steve?” Robin asked.

“I mean, he’s hot, right? But I don’t know if he’d even go for me.” As he talked, he popped open another button of his shirt, showing off a bit of his wife beater and chest hair. “Like, okay, he’s just so pretty and he fixes cars and plays in a band? It’s cool as hell. But I don’t think we even have that much in common, so I don’t know. He likes metal, I like pop. He likes D&D and I like, uh, I don’t know? Poker? Anyways, I don’t even know what kind of guys he’s into. Do you know, Rob?”

Robin shrugged, meeting your eyes before saying, “I don’t know, Steve. Ever thought about asking him what his type is?”

And you shouldn’t have asked. Really, you shouldn’t. Because now you were here, sitting at a table while Steve moaned and groaned about his chances with Eddie, like it was some statistics problem. And then someone was doing an awful cover of “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper, the shrill sound mixing with Steve’s whining. And you? You were sulking. 

You looked over and watched Eddie wait for your drinks at the bar, wondering if Steve had any chance and whether you were more likely to get the guy in the end. Surely there was a silver lining in there somewhere. You enjoyed metal music and even convinced Eddie to listen to other genres. You enjoyed listening to Eddie talk about Dungeons and Dragons and showed him board games you liked, like Catan. Relationships weren’t built off of just similarities and differences. Steve was wrong.

Right?

As if Eddie heard your thoughts, he caught your stare, his lips pulling back into a large grin as he waved and moved his hips a little bit along to the grating karaoke. You couldn’t help but laugh at how awkward he looked, in turn doing the worst arm wave in history. He immediately started laughing.

Eddie was looking at you, wasn’t he? Steve wasn’t even bothering to look at the object of his desire. He merely talked about the guy, putting his head in his hands and panicking as if Eddie wasn’t in the same room. But you were looking at Eddie and now you were in a makeshift dance battle, embarrassing yourself by doing an awful robot while he did that shopping cart move.

Could Steve have this kind of relationship with Eddie?

And what were the odds of you winning?

What were the odds of you losing?

After a good bit of chatter, Steve and Robin headed towards the other end of the bar to set up a game of darts. Eddie went along, but you decided to stay behind. He found it odd, asking if you were sure and you’d nodded, telling him that you wanted a moment to yourself. 

But Eddie didn’t believe you. Not one bit. You’d started acting weird merely seconds after he came back with drinks. It was strange. One moment you were dancing with him across the room and the next your shoulders were slumped, falling out of any and all conversation. Even when he nudged you and tried to be playful, you seemed to pretend you didn’t notice. Instead, you focused on your straw and nodding along as if you were paying attention. 

He knew you hadn’t. He knew there was something wrong and, of course, he wanted to respect your privacy but there had to be something else there. Had Robin let anything slip? Did Steve act like an asshole? Were you upset with him? 

Robin and Steve were in the heat of a tie when Eddie finally decided to walk back over to you. He didn’t like seeing you so sad, so vulnerable. And with the addition of the high, he knew how scary that could feel. If something didn’t feel right, it could get extremely uncomfortable. And you couldn’t just be alone in that hole.

“Hey,” he said as he approached you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You put on one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen before replying, “Yeah, I guess I’m just tired from work.”

Lie.

“Is the high getting you down?”

You shrugged. “A bit, yeah.”

“Um,” he said, gulping as he held out his palm. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

You looked down at his hand before looking back up. 

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, sure. Sure,” he replied, placing his hand on top of the other. 

He squeezed it to elicit something resembling comfort for the rejection he felt. It was like your hand was some kind of phantom feeling that made his chest ache with want. And that want was slowly but surely starting to burn.

“Well, uh.” He gulped. “I’m gonna get myself another beer. Want anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay.”

Eddie nodded before turning away.

“Hey, Eddie?”

He didn’t think he’d ever spun back around that quickly before.

“Yeah?”

You smiled weakly. “If you need me to drive your van back tonight, let me know. I don’t mind if you want to get a little drunk with Steve and Robin.”

And just like that, he died a little inside. Again.

“Will do, Weirdo.”

Steve was back on his bullshit.

“Oh my god, do you guys think I should try to sing with him? Get the sparks flying, you know?” He moved his head from side to side. “‘Do a little dance? Make a little love’?”

Robin smacked Steve’s arm. “You did not just do that.”

You let out a tiny sigh, looking away from his hopeful expression. Steve genuinely thought he’d cracked the code to Eddie’s heart. And you couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want someone like Eddie? 

But really, you wanted to put your head on the table and bang it over and over.

Over. And. Over.

Eddie had gone to get a third beer and Steve had wasted no time before bringing this shit back up. You were seriously starting to dislike him for the first time in three years. Three. Years. He was obnoxious when he was drunk, sure, but it was never like this.

Or maybe you just hadn’t paid attention until tonight.

You shook your head, desperately trying to get the feelings out of your body. The blunt was starting to get the best of you, fogging your brain while your limbs felt like they were vibrating. This was killing your high. No, it was more than that. It was magnifying all the feelings you once swore to be dormant. 

You looked over to find Robin staring at you, her eyebrow quirked up. Noticeably, you might add. You and Robin weren’t that close—you were one of Eddie’s best friends to the rest of them. You had fun whenever the group would hang out, whether that be at Eddie’s shows or unwinding at Go Ask Mary, but you never truly hung out alone. 

Steve, Robin, and Eddie had moved to Atlanta three years ago, after they wanted out of their small town in Indiana. Steve’s dad had gotten him a job at a big boy law firm in the heart of Downtown. It wasn’t the best way to get into the business, but it was the best way to get all of them out. To start over somewhere bigger, somewhere with more opportunities. Steve convinced them to save up for the summer before driving eight hours to their shitty new apartment. He swung Robin a waitressing gig at a nice restaurant he had a business lunch at—charmed the owner and everything. Eddie had worked at a local gay bar in Decatur and played there sometimes on metal or punk themed nights.

And here Robin was now, staring at you like she was trying to figure out how you were feeling, as if you’d ever be phased by Steve’s confession. Confessions. And she was making eye contact, all bold and unashamed. Like she was some freakishly keen hawk, two steps away from letting out a ca-caw. And if Steve paid just a fraction, just a millimeter of attention, he’d notice. 

It was all quite unnerving.

“Don’t you think sparks would already be flying after years of knowing each other?” Robin asked, eyes flickering from Steve’s to yours and then back again. “I mean, I think you would know by now. If there was something between you.” She gestured over to you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

What was her deal?

“Pfffft.” 

A bit of Steve’s spit flew out and hit your cheek. You would’ve laughed three hours ago. Now? Now, you were seriously considering bashing his head against the table.

(It was a big night for head bashing.)

“Last call for karaoke!” one of the bartenders announced.

“Wish me luck!” Steve said to you and Robin before raising his hand. “I’ll do it!” he exclaimed loudly, pointing to Eddie who had just finished closing out his tab. “I’ll do it with that handsome man over there!”

Eddie looked surprised but shrugged, a pleasant smile reaching his lips. “Yeah, sure, Harrington. Show me what you got.”

As they moved towards the stage, you swallowed the words resting on your tongue.

I wanted to sing with Eddie tonight.

“I hope he doesn’t embarrass himself.”

You couldn’t look at Robin. You just couldn’t.

“What song did he pick?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“‘Under Pressure’.”

Oh, fuck. You’d sung that in the car with Eddie plenty of times, always with a silent acknowledgement that whatever conversation you were having would cease and the volume was to be turned all the way up. You went for Freddie Mercury's part while Eddie took the lower octaves in David Bowie’s verses. Eddie sounded amazing when he sang it, confident with his range and feeding emotion into the song. And you melted. You just melted.

And when the song started and Eddie’s eyes drifted away from Steve and landed on you, well, you couldn’t help but feel seen. He thought about those times, too, didn't he? It was something you both held special. Right?

But Steve took Eddie’s hand and started trying to dance with him. Eddie laughed, trying to follow his complicated rhythm. Steve was stumbling and nearly fell of the stage, but Eddie caught him, stabilizing him. Just like he’d done with you in the parking lot.

Things were going downhill for you. And they were going down fast.

Eddie cleared his throat dramatically before starting the first verse. “Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you. No man ask for.”

You let out a sigh at the sound of Eddie’s voice, all gravely and husky and soft all the same. It felt even better tonight with whatever was in this joint. You could feel it inside, like it was somehow spreading through you. There was a part of you that was sure you’d never get over it for as long as you lived.

Steve pulled Eddie closer, grabbing at his waist and slowly moving it down.

Oh my fucking god. Eddie knows what he’s doing, right? you asked yourself. Can he tell? Does he like this?

Eddie cleared his throat before belting, “It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming—”

“Let me out!” Steve shouted.

They stumbled through a laugh at the ridiculousness, and you began to feel like you were slowly dying. Again.

“I’m…going to go to the bathroom,” Robin announced before scurrying off.

And you tried to keep your eyes off of them. Really, you did. You made yourself look around the room, scanning the face of a drag queen who was currently walking around and engaging in animated conversations with the few other people here. Her eyes were coated in pink glitter and tall eyelashes; nude lips perfectly lined and wrapped around the straw of a cocktail. She was absolutely gorgeous, as most Atlanta queens were. Plus, how could you ever look away from a drag queen? They were angels, truly. Archangels.

But it was Eddie’s singing that brought your attention back, as effortless as Bowie himself. Like there was nothing to it. Like he was always on the track to begin with.

You found yourself thinking about the night you met Eddie, right here in Go Ask Mary. It was the five-month anniversary of their official move to Atlanta, the three of them wanting to go out and celebrate not completely fucking up. They’d gotten out and they were doing pretty okay for themselves by the look of it.

And you? Well, you were a native to the south. Grew up in Tennessee, moved here when you saw the opportunity for college somewhere that wasn’t Tennessee. Found your way through college and realizing you were bisexual and, well, found Go Ask Mary. At the time, you came here with friends, but there was a period time after losing some of those friends where you preferred coming by yourself. It was an accepting atmosphere, one where everyone seemed friendly. You could have a six-minute conversation with a queer stranger and never speak again. But it would be fond and unforgettable. It would be transcendent. 

You’d gone up and done a dramatic cover of “I Miss You” by Blink 182, mimicking the singer’s voice rather than being serious about it. A few people laughed—and Eddie was one of them. He’d even let out a few whoo!s and yeah!s. When you’d gotten off the stage, he approached you immediately and asked you if you could be best friends. You laughed at that, thinking then that neither of you were serious. 

But then you’d spent the whole night talking and watching Robin and Steve perform.

And then they tapped out and decided to head home.

However, Eddie wanted to stay. 

And you told him you could call him an Uber. 

And then you stayed until closing, just talking. Nonstop. Like you were seeing an old friend for the first time in decades.

(Is there a joke in there somewhere about three disaster bisexuals and one tragic lesbian walking into a bar?)

“Is that your man?”

You looked behind you, noticing the queen from earlier standing with her hand on her hip as she tapped her acrylic nails along to the beat.

“Which one?” you asked.

“The crazy haired one over there with the wallet chain.”

You could feel your chest start to ache. “No, no. We’re best friends, but we’re not dating.” She let out a hum. You looked at her again, feeling hot all of a sudden. “Um, why? Why do you ask?”

A smirk formed on her lips as she touched your shoulder, leaning down to speak softly into your ear. “Baby, that man’s only looking at you.”

“He is?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure?”

The queen looked at you again, her eyebrow raising. “Oh, so you’re jealous of the other one?” She laughed as you gave a defeated shrug. “You ain’t been lookin’ hard, have you?”

“I’m not sure—"

“Honey,” she started, tapping your jaw. You looked back at her. “I know that look. But you ain’t gotta look hard to see what he feels for you.”

“Really?”

She patted the top of your head and stood up straight. “Girl, look harder. Oh, and don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

And then she was waving you a goodbye and walking away.

You looked back to the stage to watch Eddie. You didn’t know how to believe her. Couldn’t. He was right there, leaning in and sharing a microphone with Steve, their faces practically touching. Lopsided grins coming from the two as Eddie hit a high note perfectly and Steve butchered the harmony. Eddie’s voice was dark and angelic. Steve’s eyes were red and perhaps they were sparkling in the purple and blue neon lights. They were having fun. 

They’d be a cute couple, a voice in your head said bitterly. And you can sit and watch and be okay with it. Swallow all your emotions like you always do. Let yourself fade into background noise as you watch someone take the spot you want the most. It’s normal at this point, isn’t it? You’re going to be that pathetic and weak, aren’t you?

You looked down at your drink, riddled with those incessant voices in your head telling you that you weren’t good enough. Because you weren’t as forward as Steve, or as brave as Eddie. You couldn’t just say the words or say anything at all. Eddie said everything he thought and made it clear how he felt. It was so simple for him. 

Besides…where would the friendship go if Eddie rejected you? Would it remain firm, the foundation solidified enough to keep you where you were before? Or would it start moving away, returning less and less frequently before the inevitable crash? 

And how could you ever fathom surviving the implosion?

Eddie began to belt the final chorus, leaving Steve in the dust while secretly trying to get your attention. Maybe he was trying to impress you with his strengthened vocals and (pathetically) wanted you to notice.

But you continued to look down at your drink, scowling and swirling your straw around. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, why you were acting so strange tonight. It’d started out so well when he picked you up, letting the music be the only thing moving you forward. Even in the parking lot, with the jokes and a longing look that felt like it lasted for hours. And now you were…well. Whatever you were. 

And the song ended, alongside the minimal applause and stage lights being turned off. 

Steve patted Eddie’s shoulder as they got off. Eddie nodded at him before turning towards your table. 

But Steve pulled at his forearm. 

“Munson, wait.”

Eddie looked back. “Yeah, dude. What’s up?”

Steve smiled and Eddie could tell that he was utterly drunk. It was one of Steve’s goofy smiles, always seeming cartoonish with the way his lips curved into a wave. Eddie always thought it was kinda weird how he did that. Even a little creepy.

“Listen, I’m just gonna come out and ask you a question.”

“Okay…” Eddie trailed, now facing Steve completely. 

“Would you ever want to go on a date?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, scanning Steve’s face to try and see if any of this was a joke. 

But there was no punchline. He was serious.

“Like, together?” he asked slowly.

Steve laughed, having to lean on a nearby table to stable himself. “Yeah! I don’t know, I just kinda thought we had some chemistry or something. I’m drunk so I can’t articulate it very well, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

Eddie raised a hand to scratch along his stubble and thought about it. Had he really not noticed that Steve was into him? He thought he’d made it clear to Robin his affections for you. He’d just assumed she would tell Steve but, clearly, she hadn’t. 

It was all Eddie ever talked about when him and Robin were alone, holed up in Eddie’s bedroom with a couple of beers and When Harry Met Sally playing on his TV. She told him over and over how he should just say something to you or even drop hints here and there. And to be fair, he thought he had. Even tonight with the joint in your mouth and the comment about it not being as pretty as you. And you’d just waved it off. Acted like it was nothing. Moved on so quickly and so suddenly.

But. 

Well. 

Was there such harm in saying yes to Steve? You certainly hadn’t said anything and maybe it would be good for him to explore something with someone who he knew for sure wanted him. It could be simple with him. Steve was fun to be around. He could be happy with him if it went anywhere. Because it could go somewhere…

Right?

He stared at Steve for some time before he responded.

You tried to leave with Robin and Steve, but Eddie pulled you towards his van instead. That meant two blocks of walking together and he didn’t waste any time before he started talking.

“Where are you going, Weirdo?” he asked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a side-hug. “You know you live closer to me.”

He was right. After Eddie had snagged his current job as a mechanic at a nice dealership, he’d gotten his own place so that he could have a space for himself. He really liked his alone time as much as he liked being around you or any of his other friends. One of the main reasons was because he needed complete silence when planning his campaigns and, well, Robin and Steve weren’t necessarily quiet people.

You chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m crossed or something,” you replied. “You’ve always had a higher tolerance than me.”

Eddie gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

You nodded and tried to keep walking. 

But he didn’t.

“You’re not holding my hand right now.”

His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper.

“Oh, I guess I just wasn’t thinking about it tonight.”

Or you’re not actually cross-faded, Eddie thought to himself. But he didn’t say anything, just bumped your shoulder with his and tried to bring the energy back. You hadn’t smiled since you’d all left and there was no way you’d leave tonight without one. So, he turned around and started walking backwards, shimmying his shoulders. He cracked the code, watching as you began to snort. Thank God.

“So, did you like my killer vocals?” he asked, his playful tone raising the energy back to its rightful place. 

Until your smile faltered.

“Ohhhhhh, yeah,” you said, hardly sounding sarcastic or playful. And it certainly didn’t meet your eyes. “You and Steve looked like you were having fun.”

Eddie hesitated, wanting to tell you about Steve’s…proposition. Should he casually drop it into the conversation? Would tonight be the night that he admitted how he felt? Or would he continue to rely on you doing it?

“He asked me out,” Eddie said before he could think further, heart racing.

“What?”

“Yeah, right after we got offstage. Crazy, right?” 

“What did you say?” you asked, stopping in your tracks. You were only across the street from his van now. Only twenty steps. 

But you’d stopped. 

So, Eddie did too.

“I told him I’d think about it,” he replied.

“And have you? Thought about it?”

He tried to read your expression, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

So, he pushed. 

“I don’t know. Hadn’t thought of it before he said anything. I mean, it’s kinda out of nowhere…”

“Do you like him?” you whispered. 

Eddie thought about lying, to try and elicit some form of jealousy from you so he could start the conversation. Gamble and see what happens. But he couldn’t lie to you like that. It wouldn’t be right. It’d just be shitty. 

“Not really. Like, Steve’s pretty and all and he’s a really good friend or whatever. But I just haven’t really thought much about it and then suddenly there he was, poof, asking me out. And, I don’t know, I just thought it was a bit weird.”

You nodded along, looking away. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Do you think I should say yes?”

“You’re asking me?” you asked, your eyebrows pinching together. 

You looked…upset. Why did you look so upset at the question?

“Absolutely,” he said, nodding.

“Why do you want my opinion? I mean, you’ve known him longer.”

Eddie shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I value your opinion or whatever.”

You scoffed. “I don’t think I should be the determining factor on who you should date.”

You have no fucking clue.

“And if I wanted you to be?” 

The words left his lips before he could save himself and, God, his heart was banging on his flesh, like it was trying to escape. Like it wasn’t able to handle it any more in his wired brain.

You hesitated again. 

“Well, I don’t know.” Before Eddie could ask again, you sighed. “Do what you want, Eddie. Just…be careful.”

He shut his mouth again and nodded. 

“Yeah, alright. Sure.”

Eddie spent that night analyzing your hesitation. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe you were thinking about how stupid he was or, even worse, maybe you were just too scared to say anything. Like him. 

Your lips had quivered slightly. You were holding back those words again, the ones that felt like they’d already been shared and were waved off by the time you spoke again. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

And instead of asking you, he texted Steve.

About that date… When and where?

Taglist: @mrsjellymunson

[punkeropercyjackson]

You guys know what's wild as hell about Pjo fans ragging on Walker!Percy though?The fact that they keep saying he's not a good adaption of Percy because he's 'super lame'.Like first of all that's a child shut up and get a life bitch but also my actual point is that he's only lame from normies who think they're freaks perspective and i mean this in the sense of me being a lower class autistic adult and ex-troubled kid like book!Percy is and that's why i think both his version of Percy and Walker himself are cool as fuck.Like sorry to have to burst your bubble but Percy was never a stereotypical guy or a skater boy or a devil may care or popular in the mortal world and i'm bolding that last part as the important distinction-Percy is widely beloved BY OTHER DEMIGODS because they're also weirdos like him but regular humans still view him as a worthless and unappealing loser and this is very much intentional every step of the way.Demigods are a metaphor for neurodivergent otherhood,mortals are a metaphor for ableist neurotypicals and you guys fell for Percy's untrue self-image issues and his tormenters verbal abuse hook line and sinker.Me thinking Walker is really based is not only my opinion(and a fact)but also just me literally understanding the assigment from the get go and for ten years now lmfao!Y'all hate for his Percy Jackson kinnie and zero Peter Johnson energy swag💙

Also,i was gonna end it there but i need to add in this bonus as a black woman who's a lot like Leah personality wise and in presentation:Annabeth canonically dosen't want to be blonde because she wants to be seen as more than her looks and Leah's blackness freed her from it and erased the white feministic aspects of her to be replaced with good nerdy black girl rep so by extension her dynamic with Percy is actually equal and i love watching it which is a far cry from book!Percabeth and i hope they cast a black girl for Rachel(my beloved)too and let Jason's actor when the time for Hoo comes keep his hair black as they did Leah so all you 'Percy has a type and it's blondes' freaks will be exposed for the racists and pedo apologists you are💕💕💕

[spenglersweetheart]

I have a request

Yk the court scene, reader is also there having been there when they were digging up the road, so maybe when the slime explodes and releases the spirits (and the judge is freaking out) reader has the calmest bitch face ever even when the judge says that the case is dropped and she just looks at the others and smirks and is like “Let’s kick some ghost ass it’s been to long” or smthin like that

deciding to write this first bc it's an idea fresh in my mind and i absolutely love this so much !!

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

God, I Missed Busting

definitely a reader, but it's all platonic as of now!

WARNINGS : none !

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU AND THE OTHER THREE HAD LANDED YOURSELVES in court. With Louis Tully being your goddamned lawyer. You knew that it would go horrible. You knew that Louis couldn't build a case for absolute shit. But for some reason, they had got him anyway. But, luckily, everyone else in the room, and maybe even the other three you were sitting with, were about to get a rude awakening.

You, along with Egon, Ray, and Peter had noticed the slime bubbling. While the other three men were freaking out about it, you were calm. They actually didn't question this. You and Winston were the calmer ones in the group. Right now, all you could do was glance at the slime and then the judge. You kept doing it until it finally blew up.

Wind all over the place, lightning somehow makes its way into the courthouse. The four of you finally stand up from your chairs. You guys witness the chaos that is currently around you.

The four of you are hiding, including the judge. Egon and the other two convinced him to drop the charges. The four of you were finally able to grab your proton packs.

When you put yours on, it pretty much felt like a breath of fresh air.

Each one kicks on, one by one.

Peter's proton pack comes on first, "Do ..."

Then Ray's, "Ray ..."

Then yours comes on, "Mi ..."

Then there's Egon. "Egon!"

You all look at him. You only shake your head, a smile appearing on your like. Egon was silly, but that's okay. You were just happy that you were catching ghosts again.

You look at the two ghosts. The judge has identified them as the Scoleri Brothers. You didn't really care who they were. Just that you were about to get them.

"Thank God, it's been way too long," you say to them, "Let's kick some ghosts' ass!"

Four of you split up. Ray and Peter on one side of the courtroom, you and Egon on the other. Might as well try to capture them at the same time since there were two of them, and four of you guys. Two will grab one Scoleri brother, the other two grab the other.

Ray and Peter manage to get theirs first. Quickly getting into the trap. You and Egon have a bit of a struggle. That way until Ray finally slid the trap over to the two of you. You and Egon get it into the trap, and it closes, there's steam coming from it.

The four of you surround it. All of you are happy with this outcome.

"Two in the box!" Ray says excitedly.

"Ready to go," Egon says.

"We be fast, and they be slow!" All of you call out, pointing to the small box.

That's when you knew that the Ghostbusters were officially back in business.

[literaryavenger]

Meet the Guardians of the Galaxy - part 2

Summary: The Avengers of the Galaxy continue to bond.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I was trying something and this came out. I hope you like it, lol.

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Masterlist

It’s been a couple of days since the Guardians of the Galaxy landed on the Avengers compound’s lawn, Thor was still nowhere to be seen but you all seemed to be getting along just fine, going as far as having girls and boys night last night.

The guys showed Drax, Quill and Rocket how they like to spend a night of testosterone fueled competition while playing video games in the common room, eating junk food and drinking.

While you and the girls showed Gamora, Nebula and Mantis how you like to relax having a night of spa treatments, drinking wine and eating anything you wanted, gossiping and essentially making fun of the boys’ attitudes the guys had.

Groot started the night with the guys but apparently they started getting too rough and loud for his liking so he came to your room where all the girls were and enjoyed the rest of the night watching sappy movies and getting beauty treatments with you.

You couldn’t resist taking a picture when he wrapped himself with a napkin, rubbing some of the mud mask all over his face sloppily to look like you guys all wearing robes, making you all laugh and coo at how adorable he looked.

Everybody had a late night, barely getting any sleep, but having a lot of fun.

Now you’re all in the common room nursing various degrees of hangovers that even Bucky and Steve couldn’t escape after Tony pulled out Thor’s stash of Asgardian mead.

"All I’m saying is, aliens don’t seem to have too much regard for lawn maintenance." Tony says, making you all groan.

You were all tired of hearing him bitch about the lawn and you were definitely much too sleep deprived for it at the moment.

"Tony, I love you, but I really need you to shut the fuck up." Steve mumbles, not being used to hangovers, making us all gasp in surprise.

"Language, Rogers!" you say and he groans, throwing his head back while the rest of you laugh.

"Are you ever gonna drop that, Mrs Barnes?" you roll your eyes athim.

You and Bucky are nowhere near marriage but the blonde super soldier always has the time of his life teasing you about it.

"Aww, are you mad that I stole your boyfriend?" you fake pout at him.

"You know, Bucky and I were very happy before you came along." He fake glares at you, the rest of the team enjoying the banter they were used to at this point.

"I missed the part where that’s my problem, Captain Dumbass." You say smirking, but before Steve cam answer Quill cut in.

"Wow, she’s kind of awful when she’s hungover." you glare at him while everyone else laughs.

"She’s kind of awful when she’s not hungover, she’s just pretending for your benefit." Steve comments.

"You know what, Rogers?" Clint interrupts you before you can threaten Steve.

"Oh c’mon you know he’s right. Bucky for sure rubbed some of his grumpiness on you." you know they’re right so what’s the point in trying to deny.

You shrug ready to change the subject when Natasha chooses to contribute to the conversation.

"He definitely rubbed something on her." you almost choke on air.

"Natasha!" you hiss, struggling to keep your own face straight while all the girls start giggling.

"What? I didn’t say anything…" she says innocently and you can’t keep the laughter in anymore so you join them.

The guys all look at you like you’re crazy except for Tony, the genius playboy is definitely not as innocent as the rest of them.

"I don’t understand what’s going on." Peter says and the other guys nod in agreement.

You don’t exactly know how to explain it, not really wanting to discuss anything close to your sex life with Bucky with the whole group, so you look to the girls for help.

"It appears that terran women have rituals of honesty during their 'girls night's" Gamora offers, but it only leaves the guys even more confused, so Wanda takes it upon herself to say a simpler explanation "Girls talk about everything. Everything."

Slowly all the guys come to understand what she means, various degrees of embarrassment on their faces, while you and the girls laugh at their reactions.

"Wait, everything everything?" Tony questions, looking directly at Pepper.

"Every. Single. Thing." she says, maintaining eye contact, and the rest of you can't stop snickering at the guys’ dumbfounded faces.

While the guys continue their questioning to the other girls, Bucky leans in to whisper in your ear.

"So you’ve been telling the girls about our sex life, doll? I might have to punish you for that..." he can tell you’re trying hard to keep a straight face as you refuse to turn around to face him so he keeps teasing you.

"and you’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?" your eyes widen a bit before your expression goes back to neutral, but you're betrayed by the intense red your cheeks are turning, which does not go unnoticed.

"What’s wrong with you, why is your face all red?" Rocket almost yells, bringing the whole room’s attention on you, making you blush even more and giggle when Groot climbs on your shoulder to examine your cheek more closely.

"It’s nothing." you try to sound casual.

"And what’s wrong with you?" Rocket says and you hear Steve groaning before he answers.

He carefully chooses his words and addresses you and Bucky directly "Just so you know, I can hear Bucky whispering…"

your eyes snap up to him and you can see his face is turning red too, ever the innocent one and never ready to hear his best friend's dirty talk.

You look at Bucky who looks more amused at the situation than embarrassed and you let out a groan of your own before gettin up, Groot still on your shoulder.

"Where are you going, baby?" Bucky asks, stopping the others’ questioning of Steve about what he heard, all of them confused and amused, their attention back on you.

"I need more coffee. And a bath in holy water." you add looking at the girls, all of them knowing how dirty Bucky’s mouth can get, then you make your way to the kitchen.

"I’ll go make sure she’s alright." Bucky gets up and follows you, leaving the guys to try and make the girls let them in on the joke.

You put Groot down on the counter while starting the coffee machine and, while you wait, he makes you laugh by running around trying to catch a fly while making the most adorable little screams of battle.

You feel two arms wrap around your waist and Bucky’s head on your shoulder.

"You know Steve’s gonna think we’re fucking in the kitchen, right?" you say without looking away from Groot, making Bucky laugh.

"I just wanted to check on you." he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You turn around in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I’m okay." you kiss him on the lips "Steve may be traumatized now, though." this time you laugh with him.

"Do you really tell the girls everything?" he asks when your laughter dies down.

"I do, they’re my best friends. Also the world should know you fuck me hard and good." he smirks and is about to kiss you again when you hear someone clear their throat from the door.

You both turn towards the sound and see Steve standing there, face getting redder than Tony’s suit.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." you groan once more, hiding your face in Bucky’s chest while he smirks at Steve.

"I just wanted some water, but I’ll come back later..." Steve says and starts to turn away, but turns back around and says "Bravo, Buc-"

"No! out!" you cut in before he can finish while pointing at him then the door and he goes through it laughing.

You look back up at Bucky and the cheeky idiot is laughing too, you try to glare at him but can’t keep a straight face, especially when a little yell suddenly reminds you that Groot is there with you.

You turn around just in time to see him jump down the counter, his little hands over what you assume are his ears, running back into the living room while screaming his little heart out.

Yep, looks like Steve is not the only innocent baby you and Bucky traumatized today.

[suzukiblu]

may I ask if you have any fic recs handy?? dw if not

Hmmm, well, let's see, what have I read recently that I especially liked . . .

. . . oh okay yeah I got way too into this, lol. wELP, such is life!!

Eyes Like Kryptonite, by dragonez. Supercorp. Lena Luthor gets an either time or dimensionally-displaced Kryptonian on her balcony who inexplicably seems to think a Luthor can help him, and then she has to deal with that. Kara does not love this development (but definitely loves Lena) and Conner just wants to get home to his family.

I Want It That Way, by WynterSky. TimKon. I cannot even explain to you how good this fucking fic is. Just--TimKon, but make it 90's. Why are you still here? Go read it. Go read it NOW.

Catherine/Bruce Medieval AU, by iselsis and PotatoLady. Catherine/Bruce, past Catherine/Willis. What it says on the tin, and also omegaverse. I am WAY too into this fic, hah, "Bruce saves Catherine and takes in her and Jason both" is so, so small a genre but so, so GOOD a genre. [ tw: past rape ]

You and me and them. Let's be pack. Let's show the world we chose each other, by Ace_of_Hearts4444. TimKon. Tim finds out Kon is a newly-presented stray omega in an AU where being packless is a Big Fucking Problem and Young Justice has some fucking FEELINGS about that fact.

The tale of a cat who stole a diamond boy, by Ace_of_Hearts4444. TimKon. I'm not really into "Tim is Stray/Catlad" AUs, but I am VERY into this TimKon concept. Also, like yes, obviously Tim is exactly unhinged enough to do this.

in the shadows, by Kieron_ODuibhir. Batman was Bruce Wayne's imaginary friend, but now he's Dick Grayson's. I could cut a bitch for more of this concept, oh my GOD. 💔

A Hummingbird Suspended, by poisonivory. Thad/Match. Thad gets out of the Speed Force and wants to fuck shit up, but unfortunately Match is very attractive and has even more unfortunately grown some morals.

Gut Feeling, by Ao3time. Lois finds a superclone in a lab and welp he's hers now. No takebacksies.

With Violet Light, by Evilpixie. Jason Todd wants to blow up the Batmobile and ends up a Star Sapphire. There's, uh, an adjustment period.

This isn't how things are supposed to go. But we've always been unorthodox., by RenkonNairu. Superbat, TimKon. Kryptonian omegas are not the same as human ones, and human alphas are not the same as Kryptonian ones. And therefore Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake are having a fucking time of it with Clark Kent and Conner Luthor, and Lex is just doing his damnedest to ruin as much shit as he possibly can. [ tw: rape ]

Talk That Slick Talk, by thebodydies. Kenan/Kon. Kenan meets a weirdly friendly stranger who's apparently trying to pick him up. Kon is literally just wearing fucking glasses, man. Also I desperately need more of this pairing, especially in this interpretation, please and thank you. [ this is just smutty kinky smut and you should immediately go bask in it ]

( annnnnd not-DC-but-still-superheroes bonus round!! )

I wanna be that guy (the girl under you), by Stackthedeck. SpideyTorch. Peter Parker/Johnny Storm + kink = gender?? [ more kinky smut for you to go bask in!! ]

[webslingingslasher]

Show Me You Care

this came to me late last night, just a little story.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: angst, fluffy

Word count: 4.5K

Summary: Peter doesn't fight, you need him to fight to show he cares.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. If Peter doesn’t fight with you then he just doesn’t love you that much. If he actually cared about you and your relationship then he would fight for it.”

Aubrey Abrahms was a bitch.

It had started at lunch, and to be fair you don’t know why you’re friends with Aubrey Abrahms. She was rude, spoke over her friends and claimed she knew better than everyone.

When she dropped at the table she spoke immediately. It didn’t matter that Lindsee was telling a story about her dad and a cop from that weekend, that whole the group in chatters and excitement. It was all about Aubrey Abrahms because she just arrived and if you weren’t talking about her then why bother?

“Sorry I look so messy today guys, Ethan and I had a long fight and we were up all night on the phone.”

Lindsee, Sara and Casey all look at eachother. No one asked, or cared, or noticed.

“Okay? So, then my dad was talking to Wall Street Walter, you know, the homeless guy on 18th who can predict the stocks? Well he was telling my dad that the-”

“I mean it was a long night, Lindsee. I was seriously up all night, and boyfriend fights are the worst! I know you guys don’t get it but Y/N does, right?” She looked at you and waited for your confirmation.

“Uh, not really.” You twirled your fork around some spaghetti.

“What do you mean?” She looked confused then gasped.

“Oh no! Don’t tell me you guys don’t fight!”

“I mean we really don’t. I just yell at him and he listens.” You shrug, it wasn’t a big deal. When you were upset you made it be known and Peter fixed it the best he could, he wasn’t one to put up a fight.

“So, what? He doesn’t get vocal or yell? Or call you names?” She inched forward on the table.

“What? No. If he did he would be single.” The other girls laughed at the subtle dig at Aubrey, she put up with way too much from Ethan but saw importance in image over mental sanity.

“It’s normal for couples to fight, I don’t know about you guys though.” She huffed and sat up straight.

“Is it? I don’t think we have any impending doom because Peter doesn’t yell at me.” You looked at Lindsee and Sara, you asked them silently, ‘I’m right, right?’ They both shared a look with Casey.

Aubrey shrugged, “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. If Peter doesn’t fight with you then he just doesn’t love you that much. If he actually cared about you and your relationship then he would fight for it.”

And god damn if you weren’t thinking about that the rest of the day. It was stupid, you knew it too. Peter loved you like no other, he loved you like a job he was collecting overtime in. But, a small part of you itched at the statement. It was true, you and Peter never really fought, you got upset and would complain and he would camly listen and react accordingly. But, he never got upset with you, never got loud or complained.

Was she right? Did Peter not see a future so there was no reason to fight for this?

“Do you think it’s normal for couples not to fight?”

You asked Peter after school, you were at his desk while he was hunched over his bed with his homework. You tapped the eraser of the pencil on your chin waiting for his response, he hummed back.

“I think so, it depends. Why?” He didn’t even look up from his textbook.

“I mean, let's say you have a friend. And like, their girlfriend never, and I mean ever got confrontational or yelled at your friend. Would you think she doesn’t care about the relationship?” This hypothetical was a little too on the nose.

“Maybe, I think it depends. But if my friend always went to her with their problems or issues and she never really fights back or just shrugs it off, yeah. I would say she doesn’t care.”

Your eyes widened and you dropped your pencil. Peter looked up from his book and you smiled at him before bending down to pick it up, you were coming back up when Peter shot out, “careful!” You banged the back of your head on the bottom of his desk, he hissed at the sound.

“Ow!” You rubbed at the bump, Peter breathed heavily out his nose. “I said be careful!”

“Sorry, dad!” You raised your hands up and went back to work.

—------------------------------------------------------------------

If Peter didn’t care you would make him.

There were a few ideas in mind, the first was just the classic bitch girlfriend routine.

You started this morning, he approached you before your first class.

“Hi baby!”

You rolled your eyes, “morning, Peter.”

“Woah, what’s wrong? Wake up on the wrong side of the cereal box?”

You stared at him blankly.

“Are you mad at me?”

You groaned, “why do I have to be mad at you? Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you right now.”

He looked at the ground, “oh, okay.”

He went to turn and you stopped him.

“Wait! Did that make you mad?”

“No. It made me sad.” You pouted and reached for a hug, “I’m sorry, I’m in a funk today.” He didn’t have to know the funk was him, maybe you could get a better reaction later.

You were a bitch to him all day.

“No, I don't want to do that.” In the lab when he asked you to pour a mixture into the beaker.

“Why do you keep talking about that?” When he brought up his next debate tournament.

“Do you have to be so loud?” When he said hi to a friend in the hallway when his arm was slung over your shoulder.

“Why can’t you?” When he asked you to throw something away.

“Let me guess, legos.” When he asked if you knew what he was doing tonight.

The end of day you approached his locker, you had plans to hang at his after school. He had his hands running through his backpack and replenishing his locker with what he didn't need tonight.

"Ready?"

He raised his eyebrows, “you sure you still want to come?”

“Yeah, why?”

He closed his locker and shrugged.

“Because you’ve kinda been-”

“A bitch? Have I been a bitch and you’re sick of my shit and wanna yell at me?”

“No. Mean, you’ve been mean to me today.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I think I took my bad day out on you.

Failed.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

This time you picked a fight. It wasn’t anything serious, but you played it up more than it needed to be. You wanted to raise Peter’s tension just a little bit, make him raise his voice some.

“I just don’t understand you sometimes, Peter! Like, you said you were going to be over two hours ago!” You pointed at him and raised your voice slightly.

“I texted you! I’m sorry if I ruined your plans or you waited on me. I just got busy.” He defended himself calmly, his shoulders shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” You gave fake sympathy.

“Sorry for wasting my time or making me worry?” You hummed at him and waited for a response.

Peter looked down at the ground. “I’m really sorry, baby. I’ll try not to do that again, I didn’t know sticking to a schedule was such a big thing for you. I’ll work on it.” He smiled sadly and that was it. No yelling, no getting upset over you being upset. Nothing.

You sighed, this made you feel awful. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t confrontational, you had to accept he was the calm and collected one in the relationship. You walked over and sat on his lap, you wrapped your arms around him and rested your head against the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry. Really, don’t apologize. It really didn’t upset me, I just felt like yelling at someone and you were here.”

He patted at your back, he turned to kiss your forehead.

“That’s okay, baby. You can yell at me all you want, I don’t care.”

You froze. He didn’t care, oh god. He doesn’t care.

At that moment you had to admit that Aubrey Abrahms was right, Peter didn’t care about the relationship. What were you supposed to do? Bring it up? Confront him? Would it matter? Would he just pretend to care?

You stood from his lap and stretched, you walked backwards to the desk keeping your eyes on him, he went from a lovely grin to panic. “Be careful! You’re about to-”

“Ow! Fuck! Fuck Me!” You raised your foot immediately, you squeezed your pinky toe to stop the throbbing. You walked crooked right into the corner of your desk, you hissed and cursed again.

“Ow, ow, owey. That hurt so fucking bad.” You whine at Peter and he looks at you and frowns, he looks… disappointed? His brows were pinched and his lip tugged down to his chin. He spoke lowley, “I told you to be careful, you never listen when I tell you that.”

“It's just a stubbed toe, nothing terrible. I think I'll live.” You winked at him but his expression stayed the same. “Right. But next time it may be something terrible, when I tell you to be careful, listen to me.”

You raised your hands up in surrender, Peter never yelled or got mean, he did get serious though. Sometimes when you bring something up he would speak like that, slow and low. It was his ‘I’m not backing down.’ tone, when he full heartedly disagreed with you or had his own opinion made up he wouldn’t budge; that was rare though.

“Sorry, dad. I’ll do better next time, I’ll make you proud.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the joke, you had donned the quirky raz. If Peter could keep you in a bubble he would, he would always keep an eye on you and warn you if something was in the way. Walking down the street he would keep an arm around you, he would be the one closest to the road, obviously. He would swerve you around obstacles on pure instinct, keeping you from bumping shoulders with the city folk.

He looked after you and cared for you, he set reminders on your phone for every thirty minutes. “It’s time for a quick hydration break, cutie!” You would always smile and take a quick sip, the reminders made him stay on your brain constantly. You had called him it as a joke after he had pulled you towards him aggressively when you were looking down at your phone as he was walking you home. You were blind to the men in front of you carrying metal beams for a new infrastructure. He grabbed the handle of your backpack and your side hit against his harshly, your feet stumbled at the quick movement and he sighed as he supported your weight.

“Look where you’re going, I may not be here next time. Be careful.”

You poked his nose. “Okay. Sorry, dad.”

You saw he was annoyed with the name, so obviously it stuck.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

It was your turn to slam down onto the lunch table and huff.

“Woah, what’s up with you?” Lindsee was the first to look towards you.

You ignored her and looked at Aubrey Abrahms.

“Fuck you, you evil cow sniffing bitch.” You narrowed your eyes at her and pointed.

Casey and Sara gasped, Lindsee smirked. Aubrey Abrahms pulled her lip up.

“To what do I owe the honor of such pleasant words?” She rested her hands on her chin.

“You made me insecure!” You whined and placed your forehead on your backpack, Aubrey patted your back. “It’s okay, most people around me get like that at some point.” You raised your head back up and pushed her shoulder lightly with a scoff-laugh. “Bitch! I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, you made me overthink about this Peter thing and now I’m trying to pick fights and he’s just like, blinking at me.” You groaned and banged your head back down.

“Oh, darling. It’s alright, maybe it’s better if you end it. You’d be the winner!”

Lindsee spoke up quickly, “Aubrey shut up, Y/N don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what you’re saying, she just likes to hear herself speak.” She looked at Aubrey and gave her a ‘Shut the fuck up’ look.

“Lindsee with the quick mouth! I see you, girl!” Aubrey winked at her, and Casey looked at you.

“Maybe he’s just not very confrontational. I mean, I’m like that with Erica, I just panic when she gets upset because I love her so much and I don’t want to make her feel upset, you know? So then I just shut down because if we fight it would make her feel even worse and that’s not my job as a girlfriend, I should make her feel better. So when she starts telling me about an issue she’s having, or an issue we’re having as a couple, as she likes to say. I just nod my head and agree because I don’t want her to think I’m fucking this up.” She took a deep breath after her rambling and looked at the table, everyone looking at her with gawking expressions. Her cheeks lit up red, “What?”

“Erica fucking Moore?” Aubrey slapped the table.

“When the fuck did that happen?” Sara shot Casey a side eye, they were the best friends in the group. You were all friends but if the group split Sara and Casey wouldn’t.

“Uh,” Her eyes darted around the cafeteria. She let it slip, maybe on purpose. She wanted to gossip and giggle about her girlfriend like you and Aubrey did with your boyfriends.

“She’s not out so it’s on the downlow. But we really love each other, we’ve been dating for six months. Talking for eight.” Her cheeks glowed, she felt free when she admitted it.

“Ahhhh!” Every one squealed and Sara pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Bitch! You have a fucking girlfriend! A whole ass girl on your arm in private, that is so 1950 by King Princess. Love that!” Sara swayed her in her grasp.

“Thank you, thank you!” Casey looked at the table and that was her way of saying ‘I’m done talking now, but thanks!’

Sara looked at you and gave her advice, “I think it’s a combination of both. I think he isn’t confrontational, but, I think he just cares about different things than you. So when you're upset about something that doesn't upset him he just shrugs it off.”

You nodded but couldn’t think of a time he cared about something enough to raise his voice or call you out first, you voiced this to the crowd.

“Aubrey help me pick a fight he can’t stay calm in.”

She tapped a finger on her chin, and thought.

“Not a good idea.” The three others spoke unanimously.

“It cuts deep, I won't lie. But attack his character, tell him he doesn’t make enough time for you, tell him he’s lacking in the sack, tell him you think he doesn’t respect you. Choose one.”

“Y/N. Don’t.” Lindsee warned you.

“I won’t! Just playing around.” You held your hands up and pulled out a sandwich from your lunchbox.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

That afternoon Peter had come over after patrol and was greeted immediately with your arms crossed over your chest and a deadly stare.

“I’m mad at you.”

“Uh, oh.” Peter sat on the edge of your bed.

“You don’t make enough time for me.” You huffed and turned your head slightly.

Peter chewed his bottom lip and looked extremely sad.

“I don’t?”

You quickly spoke, “No, wait. You’ve been bad at sex lately."

He nodded his head. “Oh, okay. What haven’t you liked? I mean I don’t really remember you having a problem last time but if you want to give me suggestions I wouldn’t mind.” He smiled at you and waited for your solution to his lack.

You groaned internally, you looked at your socks and gave it one last try.

“You don’t respect me.”

Peter stood immediately, “Woah, what?”

That got his attention. You fed into it.

“Yup! You don’t respect me.” You crossed your arms again and tested him.

His brow furrowed, he spoke low. “Tell me when I haven’t respected you.”

“Well I mean,” You paused to think of an answer.

“Remember when you didn’t trust my math answer and redid it?”

Peter tried to think back, that was a month ago.

“It was the wrong answer, I didn’t want to say it.”

“What about when you called me dramatic on Tuesday?”

“To your mom? You were complaining about her forgetting peanut butter at the store.”

You huffed and threw your hands down, “Okay, how about-”

Peter spoke over you, “Why are you trying to fight? You have all week. Are you pissed about something but scared to tell me? Are you having a hard week, I mean what’s up?”

You rolled your lips in your mouth and felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t see a future with us! You don’t care about us!” Your bottom lip trembled.

He held you in his arms, “oh, baby.” He smoothed your hair down, “that's just not true, I do care about us and I definitely see a future for us.” He shooed you as you lightly cried, it was just a few tears. He kissed the top of your head, “c’mon, who’s got your pretty little head thinking like that? Know it’s not you.”

“Aubrey Abrahms!” Your hands gripped at the side of his suit.

“Gross,” he wrinkled his nose.

“I’m sorry! She filled my head with bullshit, she said ``because you don’t fight with me our relationship is doomed.” You looked at him and pouted.

“We fight.” Peter looked confused.

“No we don’t. I tell you what’s bothering me and you just listen.” You tried to point out the facts and he shook his head. “Not true, I definitely hold my own opinion. We disagree, that’s close enough.”

“Yeah, but you don’t get mad. Like, you’ve never yelled at me or called me a bitch or whatever.”

Peter pulled his head back, “because I don’t want to. I just don’t get passionate enough to act that way.”

“What does that mean?” You looked him up and down.

“It means I don’t see the point in getting so mad over pointless things. You think it’s mean for me to be on my phone on movie night? Fair, I’ll put my phone down. You want me to spend more time with you after school? Awesome, I love hanging out with you. You’re coming to me with problems you have with me, I listen and do better.” He shrugs and ends there.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch. I was just insecure and panicked, I love you a lot and I promise I won’t do it again.” You looked ashamed, your eyes traced over the pattern on your socks.

“My girlfriend isn’t a bitch, don’t call her that.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, dad.”

Peter threw his head back and groaned.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be a surprise, that’s why you didn’t ask Peter for help.

To be fair he wasn’t home, but that’s the point of a surprise, you don’t see it coming.

Peter was extremely proud of his awards, he kept each certificate from his accolades. He hadn’t gotten around to hanging them yet, they just sat on a pile on the corner of his desk. So when you got to Peter’s early and he wasn’t home yet from the grocery store you figured you had a few minutes to get them on the wall.

The issue is it was above his desk and above his corkboard, meaning it was high up. And you didn’t have a ladder, May wasn’t home to ask and the hallway closet lacked one so you assumed they just didn’t own one. No biggie, you could just stand on Peter’s desk chair.

The rolling desk chair.

Climbing on the chair was fine, your legs wobbled a bit but all was okay. You were able to scoot the chair closer by thrusting in the air, you reached up and hooked one to the wall. You were able to hook the second one just as easily. The third one fucked you.

The frame slipped from your hand and in panic you ducked to catch the frame before it fell but forgot to maintain balance and the chair flipped backwards. You squeezed your eyes shut preparing for the fall, “Oh shit, oh fuck. Oh fuck.” The chair bounced where it hit the hardwood floor, you swear the back cracked with the force, you braced yourself but you didn’t fall.

Strong arms caught you mid air, you grunted with the force as Peter wrapped his arms around your stomach. You looked at the chair and wiped your brow from pretend sweat, “that was close. Thanks for saving me my hero.” You smiled at him but he didn’t.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He sounded pissed. Like, actually mad.

“What?” You looked around, did you do something wrong?

“I tell you to be careful all the fucking time and you never fucking listen to me! All the fucking time, Y/N.” His neck was turning colors, you nearly winced. He had never spoken to you like this, he was furious.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t-”

Peter cut you off with a raised hand, his tone was bitter.

“This is where you listen, Y/N. You don’t buffer, you don’t talk back, you listen.”

You nodded your head silently, eyes wide.

“What if I didn’t happen to walk in at that moment? Did you think about what could happen? Did you think about how fucking dangerous it is to be standing on a god damn rolling chair? Of course not!”

“Every day you nearly hurt yourself because you don’t listen, and nothing changes. You know what? I should’ve taught you a lesson, I should’ve let you fall and get hurt. You could have broken your arm but that’s okay, right?”

This was Peter yelling at you. This was his big thing, your safety. He may not get aggressive or vocal other times but this flipped his lid. You didn’t know it was so important to him, you were kind of glad Peter didn’t act like this normally, it was kind of scary.

“As long as you live in your own world there are no consequences, right? I mean what were you thinking, did you think, or are you just stupid?” He raised his hands and waited for you to respond.

He had never spoken down to you like this, you couldn’t help but feel ashamed and disappointed in yourself.

“I don't, I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking, I thou-” He cut you off again.

He laughed loudly and threw his arms down. “Of fucking course you weren’t! Just fucking listen to me, that’s all you had to do! If you would pay attention and stop to think for four fucking seconds you may make good choices! It’s my one thing, and you tune me out. Next time I’ll watch you fall, I don’t care if you get hurt because obviously you don’t.”

He had never cursed this much, ever.

Peter rubbed at his forehead and turned his back to you. He didn’t mean to get this angry, but he had just walked in the door and had a nasty feeling. He was halfway through the kitchen when he heard your exclaims, he had made it just in time to catch you. It would’ve been a nasty fall, and would at minimum leave you with a bruise or two. He couldn’t help himself, he feels like he’s a broken record saying those words but you never listened! You always played it off as a joke, it wasn’t funny.

He breathed deeply and sighed, he turned towards you once more.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, that wasn’t right. I was upset and it just came out.”

You nodded silently.

“Are you okay? Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to, I just got scared. It isn’t an excuse but hearing and seeing that made me panic, just, don’t do that again. Okay?” He looked at you with sad eyes, it was his turn to feel ashamed. He shouldn’t have lashed out like that, he doesn’t even remember it, he was so heated he started spewing words. From what he remembers he wasn’t nice.

“You didn’t scare me! I was taken aback, you’ve never yelled at me before, I didn’t know how to act.” You laughed lightly and stood on your tiptoes for a moment to stretch your feet.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I won’t do it again, I wasn’t thinking.” He shook his head at himself, you grabbed his shoulders with wide eyes.

“No! You’re right, I wasn’t thinking and I don’t listen when you tell me to be careful, I promise from now on I’ll ask myself what would Peter want me to do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

You looked at the two framed certificates, “I was just trying to surprise you by putting those up. I thought it would be okay but I almost dropped that one,” you pointed at his desk. “And when I ducked to grab it I lost my balance and the chair flipped.”

He sighed and rubbed his face again, “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

“It’s okay! Really! I know you care now, Sara was right, you just care about different things than me.” You smiled and hugged him.

He pulled his face together, “You’re happy I yelled at you?”

“Kinda. I can tell Aubrey to eat a dick now, not only did my boyfriend yell at me and call me stupid but he did it because he cares about me! She’s gonna be so pissed she’ll start a fight with Ethan and ask him why he doesn’t care about her that much.”

You squeezed tight for a second, “It’s gonna be awesome. I can’t wait.”

He pulled you back by your shoulders and looked you in your eyes directly.

“I didn’t like that. I shouldn’t have acted like that, I was mean and that’s not okay.” He shook his head at himself.

“No it’s not! But this one time you get a slide, you’re allowed to be upset at me. And once in a while something happens and you explode, it’s natural.” You shrugged at him, it was what you wanted to happen, you wanted to see he cared, even if he said he already does.

“Okay, but if I ever talk to you like that again, you punch me in the throat.”

“Deal.” You leaned up to kiss his mouth.

“Good.” He kissed you again, and again.

“Now what was that about telling Aubrey Abrahms to eat a dick?”

[nikholascrow]

no one asked for more of these but i love making them so

if you like this check out the others

Peter Marlene Regulus Xenophilius Evan

James!!!

• James is a pan cis dude in my brain

• wears crocs unironically his favorite are fire engine red

• he’s got adhd

• gives bone crushing hugs when he’s excited but if you’re upset he gets really gentle

• tries to mask all his negative emotions cause growing up around Sirius and Remus made him think his problems weren’t important even tho no one ever tried to make him feel that way

• considers pinky promises legally binding and does them 100% seriously

• he’s not self obsessed he just talks a lot and he doesn’t know what else to talk about

• he loves chickens and had a pet chicken when he was younger because he was obsessed with dinosaurs and asked for a pet dragon but Effie decided that was too dangerous so she got him a chicken instead and told him it was basically a dinosaur

• wrists are absolutely covered in friendship bracelets

• he’s the sorta guy that can befriend anybody but doesn’t really have many close friends he can talk to about serious stuff

• he’s amazing at cooking (Effie taught him)

• really good with kids but hopelessly irresponsible

• lowkey the reason he starts talking to Regulus is because no one except his close friends at hogwarts would dare insult him and he finds it hilarious that Reg does it in every sentence

• he also loves annoying the shit out of Regulus by calling him Reggie even before they really know each other

• completely oblivious to his own and others’ feelings Remus Peter or Sirius usually mention something about him liking someone and he just goes OH

• because he’s so oblivious he’s completely unaware that he’s basically got a whole ass fan club of hogwarts students who want to date him (Regulus is very aware)

• He’s got red converse but he also has another red pair that Regulus painter flames on for his birthday once he loves them so much that he never wears them cause he’s terrified of getting them dirty

• he thinks he’s annoying and loud because people get mad at him for talking ‘too much’ and he’s really self conscious about it

• he complains about how pretty Regulus is to Lily Sirius Remus and Peter all the time and they think it’s hilarious but if he interrupts one more of Remus and Lily’s study sessions to do it Lily might punch him

• dude is like a human heater even in winter like he’s the bitch that walks around without a coat on while it’s snowing

• he’s really smart and he could get good grades but he can’t stay focused in class unless he adores the subject

• sandals and socks.

• owns a chicken stuffed animal that sits on his bed and if anyone dared make fun of it he’d probably burst into tears

• he’s an absolute baby when he’s sick acts like he’s dying

• flirts so much with Regulus and yet Reg remains oblivious

if you want my hcs about other characters i haven’t done yet feel free to leave a ask i love getting them :]

[dear-oizys]

My thoughts on the latest 911 episode

Ashes Ashes

This was written while I was watching the episode.

Ok I really support Tevan or Buck Tommy or whatever it is but why did they cut to Eddie's face when Buck got his award?

Bobby looks like a proud dad at everyone.

Bobby!!!!!! Is getting a Medal of Valour!!!!!!!! Bobby you deserve it so much!!!!!!!

Bro. What the fuck?? You deserve it too!!

Ravi you glorious bastard. I love you.

Gerrard fuck you. Die. Please die.

Chimney!!!!!!!! Go off king!!!! You're fucking awesome!!

Why the fuck is the councilwoman here?? You bitch. Please tell me she doesn't mess up Mara's adoption??

Nooooooooooooo. I'm literally dying. Bobby you are not resigning. Please. Why the fuck are you retiring??

You are a goddamn hero Bobby.

Athena I love you. So much. So so so much.

I can just see Bobby's tiredness. I can really feel it. Peter Krause. The man that you are.

Eddie. I love you. But honey what are you doing. I love you. But please get some help. Please.

Do I kinda actually like Kim??

Sometimes I forget that it's Angela Fucking Basset on this show. I love her so much. She is so awesome.

I'm gonna cry. I'm actually crying. Bobby is being a dad to everyone while this sad music is playing in the background.

What the hell. I can't see the screen or the words I'm typing. Relying on autocorrect to help me now.

Bobby just handed buck the groceries so that he will cook for the team after he leaves. Why. Just why did I start this show?

Your work here is not done Bobby.

Bobby is literally Buck's father and Buck is Bobby's son. I can't see anything rn

What the hell is Kim doing here. I'm still crying. Let me compose myself.

Buck!!!! Confront Eddie!!!! What the hell!!!! Omg!!!! Buck you did NOT just say that. Damn. He's not holding back!!? Edmundo. Something is definitely going on. Don't say nothing.

Buck is not holding back anything today. Damn.

Mara and Denny!!!!!! I love them?!! Adoption hearing is cancelled. I hate you councilwoman Ortiz. You are a complete and utter bitch. I hate you so much

Thank god. Eddie told Kim. Thank God. Wow. I kinda feel bad for Eddie even though his actions are kinda shitty. But I hope he gets better and gets the help he needs.

Was she Eddie??? Was she the love of your life??? Ok I feel really bad for Eddie.

Ok I feel so bad for Amir. But I am 100% sure Amir is gonna burn down their house.

Peter Krause and Angela Bassett. I love you guys. I feel so so bad for Athena and Bobby.

Wow. That woman is just killing Hen. Wow. How do I help Hen?? How? Please someone take care of that woman.

What. What. They're taking Mara away????????? What. The. Hell????

What the hell?????? What is Kim doing here??? Did she have bangs before????? Is it even Kim??? What the hell is she even doing?? Is it kim or not????????? What is happening??????? Is he hallucinating??? Ryan Guzman. You are so good.

Eddie. You are not broken. Eddie.

Oh my god. Oh god. Chris. Shit. This is not good.

Bobby's dream is terrible. Its not even a dream. Its a fucking nightmare for him. No no no. This is my happening. No. Oh god. Oh my god. No. Please. What the hell. Bobby. Athena. Please escape guys please. Athena please be okay. Please. Oh thank god. Athena is okay. Is Bobby having a heartattack???????? His heart stopped??????

Picture of me during this episode

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Kokichi Ouma from Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony vs Peter Pan from Once Upon A Time

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. i will block you if you harass others in the notes, please consider sending your unhinged harassment to my inbox instead)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Kokichi Ouma:

LOVE: - "hes a bitch and that makes a lot of people hate him and a lot of other people love him. no one can decide on his motives and i think thats kind of the point. i like him personally but hes a raging asshole <3" - "Not a single DR fan I've ever met is neutral about Kokichi, he's perfect for this poll. I think he's a clever character with consistent internal logic, and his interactions with the other characters are as compelling as they are hilarious. He looks like a dog squeaky toy, and he plots like Artemis Fowl. He's one of my favorite characters in the series and I love him dearly." - "NOBODY CARES ABOUT THIS BOY'S PSYCHOLOGY AT ALL. HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF AND HIS IMAGE AND MADE EVERYONE HATE HIM AND CONSIDER HIM A MONSTER ON THE SLIGHT CHANCE HE COULD USE HIS LIFE TO HELP EVERYONE ELSE ESCAPE AND SURVIVE AND NOBODY CARES. THEY SHOW HIS BREAKDOWN AND NOBODY BELIEVES HIM. I'M SO TIRED" - "not only is he a danganronpa character (inherently controversial) he is also the antagonist and constantly lying because That's His Whole Deal. people either love him or hate his guts. he's a little piece of shit. i would submit komaeda but i feel like views on him are more positive, generally. sorry i have bad taste in video games" - "he's a horrible little guy trying his best in not very good ways what more could you want" - "I don't know, people say he's badly written because they don't pay attention to his arc beyond the cartoonish facade he very obviously forces, and they don't like him because he caused someone's death which like..fair (he did feel super bad about it though so its fine.) Some people also don't enjoy his wonderful personality and think he's a mean piece of shit, which he is, but it's fine. They're just sensitive." - "I know people don't like him because he's like. a shittier version of Komaeda. But that's what's so GOOD about him. He's a shitty asshole of a person, playing pretend at being a villain because he's desperate!!! I think that's really fun. He's dooming himself and I want him to be okay after everything ends, but he dies so he can't even have that much :(" - "so i saw you got submissions for him. but not enough i need to submit him myself he is my favorite character from anything ever. he is the silly man he is so funny one time (actually, two times if you count one optional interaction) he asked a robot if he had a dick and it's absolutely iconic i love him"

HATE: - "(dangan spoilers ahead if that matters) look ok i didn’t originally feel too strongly about kokichi. i think his character is interestingly written (can’t say well-written bc danganronpa but yaknow) and he adds a lot of charm to v3. i understand why he’s popular- he’s one of the few characters in v3 to have both a personality and plot relevance. but oh my GODDDDD he is not a good person!!!! and i am so SICK of seeing him woobified into ‘ooh little baby he did his best he wasn’t doing anything wrong’ JUST BECAUSE you find out he was trying to end the killing game after he dies doesn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly fucked up throughout the game!!! like he was incredibly manipulative, a bully, encouraged infighting, Literally Orchestrated A Murder And Protected Himself From Danger By Getting The Big Stupid Sweetheart To Do It which caused TWO unnecessary deaths and- oh yeah- tricked everyone into believing he was the mastermind and the world had ended to make them so depressed that they just wouldn’t do anything anymore bc can’t kill someone if you’re rotting away in your room!!! AUGH like he’s a good character but it’s BECAUSE he sucks that he’s interesting. maybe this is just the komaeda fan in me but sometimes!!! the character is cooler when you understand that they’re a bad person. at least komaeda gets an actual redemption arc. kokichi’s just an asshole that the game tries to make you sympathetic for at the very end but he spends the entire game being an asshole so why the hell would i like him??? and then i go in a fandom tag and it’s constant unending ‘kokichi did nothing wrong’ the whole point of his character is that he does EVERYTHING wrong. i truly feel like the dr team was trying to replicate komaeda’s popularity but it was messy and poorly handled bc he’s not even a bad person in an interesting way like komaeda he’s just got trust issues that lead him to be stupid and An Asshole. then again people eat it up so what do i know lmao. i love to hate that little shit i wanna punt him into the goddamn stratosphere. score a field goal with that asshat. this is all lighthearted btw i love to die on small hills" - "WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE HIM OH MY GOOOOOOD HES SUCH A FLAT CHARACTER HES A SODA I LEFT OUT FOR 3 DAYS kokichi oma is easily the WORST written danganronpa character. it has been a while since i was into danganronpa so the details are a bit fuzzy but my rage has NOT subsided. following the success of Easily One Of The At Least Top Three Best Written Danganronpa Characters known as nagito komaeda, kokichi had some shoes to fill. he instead showed up in clown shoes. kokichis whole premise is that you dont know if hes lying or not, him being a huge clown and causing shit for like a good third of the cast. kokichi was a simple character. hes a bitch, he sturs shit up, he eat hot chip and lie, it was FINE. not GREAT, but FINE. and then he died. suddenly— kokichi was from modest beginnings. he was actually a genius who was actually doing all of this to save everyone. he was a martyr. they TRIED to follow up on the success of nagito komaeda, and failed miserably. the guy literally has nazi imagery he didnt need to be complex he just needed to be an asshole and force the plot. for assholes that force the plot with actual good depth, may i interest you in byakuya togami? for guys who lie all the time with actual good depth, may i interest you in sou hiyori the beanie man himself from your turn to die [similar genre]? seriously. you guys could do SO much better. just... get better taste oh my GOD JUST BECAUSE HES A TWINK DOESNT MEAN HES WELL WRITTEN" - "Omg I hate this guy,,, people either baby him & make him a uwu soft boy or a funky clown dude, & both those types of people forget all the things he has done??? even if he "redeemed" himself in the end (which i don't think he did--) that still doesn't negate all of the things he did before??? actions speak louder than words but he could never rely on that bc all the does is lie anyway-- i have some strong opinions about him."

Peter Pan:

LOVE: - "My propaganda is that like. Half of the OUaT fandom is OBSESSED with this guy and the other half write fanfiction about their self-inserts beating the shit out of him. The tumblr sphere might be a bit too biased in favor of love and I doubt he'll make it far but from what I've seen people either adore this guy or want him dead in the streets"