#dead-beat dads deserve nothing

[crellanstein]

I’m like… already pissed at Yassop. Cuz like, we have no idea what he & Usopp’s relationship was before he left, if Usopp even remembers him or only has stories from his mother, but you just know, YOU KNOW that when they meet Yassop’s gonna be all like…

“Look at the man you’ve become, you’re a full grown warrior-of-the-sea now, I’m proud of you-blah blah blah” and pull that classic shitty- anime-dad-thing were he’s like ‘I left to make you stronger’ or whatever.

Or…

He’ll challenge Usopp to a sniper duel & when Usopp wins he’ll say all that…

…and ACT LIKE HE HAS THE RIGHT to make any sort of judgement about the aptitude of the son HE ABANDONED!

Cuz we all know that’s why he left, regardless of whatever circumstances. He saw the chance to go adventure on the sea & thought nothing of leaving his young son & dying wife behind.

I can only hope Usopp trademark integrity comes into play & he SMASHES HIS DEADBEAT DAD IN THE FACE and tells him off before challenging him to a sniper duel. (And here we find out the whole reason Usopp started sniping in the first place was so he could shoot Yassop in the face & balls repeatedly without mercy)

FUCK a tearful reunion & a heartfelt speach. I want some justified ass whooping!

Bonus: If Shanks tries to intervene & Luffy stops him because he knows this is the way it should go down.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Gee, thanks DC! You Just Turned Bruce Into An Irredeemable Ass.

So, at the end of Gotham War Bruce has officially lost everything. Alfred is still dead, Selina is "presumed dead" and Bruce is both financially and morally broke. Why, you may ask, is Bruce so much worse off this time? Let me count the ways.

He preformed a psychic lobotomy on Jason

The "it's for your own good" excuse only makes the mental rape undertaken by Jason's own father that much more heinous.

Just when you think Bruce can't sink any lower he does. When Dick recognizes that Bruce has lost it, he attempts to use a failsafe disconnect that Bruce himself built into the system. How does Nightwing get thanked for that? Well that brings us to number two on the list.

Batman attacks up his eldest son for doing what he's supposed to do when Batman has gone rouge.

Bruce beats him up because nothing proves you are in control of your sanity like hitting your children. While Dick is holding back, Bruce does no such thing. He hits Nightwing hard enough to send him flying. It could have gotten even worse if Tim hadn't shown up.

Tim arrives and attempts to talk some sense into Batman.

Tim tries to talk Bruce down. It doesn't go well. When Robin is trying to help, as he always does, Batman uses the attempt to reason with him to put the smack down on his son. Bruce could have killed Tim but apparently feels no remorse or guilt.

If there was any teeny tiny little doubt that Bruce will not win the Father of The Year award in 2023 it died a horrible screaming death when Batman abandons his children to potential arrest. Yes, he left a batarang for Dick and Tim but any glimer of possible hope associated with that action was instantly extinguished by Damian's reaction to Batman's callous betrayal.

Bruce abandons Damian.

Look at Dami; he's devastated. Since he came into Bruce's life, Damian has struggled with feelings that he can never earn his father's love and respect. Well, that negative self-image was reinforced in way that may never be repairable. Bruce just utterly destroyed a 13 year old child because of his inability to feel any kind of empathy.

And how does this all end? The best part is that Bruce takes all of his parental responsibilities and dumps them onto Dick.

Thank you Chip Zdarsky and Trini Howard. You've taken Batman from being an edgy anti-hero and made him into a callous monster. Part of me hopes that Bruce never comes back because he doesn't deserve his family.

The only positive aspect in this convoluted mess is that Damian and Tim will be far better off with Dick than with Bruce. Yes, Tim is mostly independent but he still needs guidance (particularly since Tim's first instinct is to try and save Bruce). Damian is essentially Dick's son emotionally anyway so this might help to sustain the positive character growth we've seen in him as of late.

The point of this rant is to wonder what on earth DC thinks they're doing. This story arc has been pure character destruction as far as Bruce is concerned. It's bad storytelling too; rushed, frenetic and massively disappointing.

Hasn't the popularity of Good Dad Bruce in Wayne Family Adventures proved that fans are tired of Bruce being a dark depressed and brooding edge lord? We all accept that Batman is a character with deeeeep issues who is in desperate need of therapy. I, however, draw the line at Bruce being an abusive a**hole.

In years to come when fans wonder when Batman jumped the shark, this is the plot line they'll point to.

[princessbrunette]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

woke up thinking about big brother rafe, toddler!wheezie, and babysitter!reader again …

rafe getting jealous when he finds out you babysit other kids. he follows you about the kitchen at tannyhill as you prepare the toddlers lunch, smiling to yourself at his clear jealousy over something so trivial.

“so that’s why you can’t watch wheezie on sunday? who— who’s kid is it? like, who’s the parent?”

“thats confidential information rafe, i’m here every other day this week why does it matter?” you giggle, slicing up baby carrots to fit a toddler sized mouth.

he leans against the countertop, pressing his lips together and lets a silence fall over you for not even a minute. “wheeze is your favourite though right?”

you turn around with an amused smile, holding back your laugh at his pettiness. “what?”

“shes your favourite, right?” he stares at you, dead serious and you lean on one hip.

“of course she is. i’m here the most, aren’t i?”

“right, right… this kid you’re babysitting on sunday, they got any older brothers?”

“rafe, c’mon.” you giggle, a little flustered but you turn back to the counter to continue preparing the food to hide this.

“look, i— i’m just lookin’ out for you, alright? what if you go over there n’there’s some creep waiting for you?” he stresses and you shake your head, warmth blossoming in your chest.

later that day — the three of you head out on rafes boat, and for a little while, out on the open water, rafe drops the big bad bully act and lets his guard down. you watch as he holds his little sister on his hip, steering the boat with the other hand. you can’t hear what he’s saying, but the two of them are giggling. it’s the first time you really see rafe fill the ‘dad’ shoes, and it makes you wonder what it would be like to have your own baby with him. the idea makes your stomach warm and heart flutter.

within the next week or so, you end up at the same party as rafe on one of your free days. it’s the first time you’ve really hung out in a social setting appropriate for people your age, and it feels almost a little weird and awkward at first. as the night goes on and the drinks flow, things get more flirty. he had a super bad day, but with you here — things felt a little better.

rafe steps away to speak to topper for a few minutes, and in that time a total creep comes out of seemingly nowhere and begins to bother you. he talks too close to your face, starts to grab at you, doesn’t take no for an answer— you’re starting to think that you can’t actually escape this, until of course, rafe comes swinging out of nowhere.

but it’s not just a one punch and he’s done, no — rafe beats him bloody, the anger issues and coke and bad day piling up on him as he continuously beats on this guy. maybe he deserves it, sure — but when the guy stops responding and rafe continues to punch and yell, panic settles in your stomach. this guy might just die.

the crowd do nothing to discourage him, drunk and cheering him on as they circle round to watch, one hundred witnesses from every angle. you call his name, but you get ignored. he grips the guys collar, malicious open mouthed grin on his face as he holds him for a moment, looking at his masterpiece.

“rafe you’re gonna kill him!” you shout, trying to be heard over the cheering. he definitely hears, because he glances up at you— the look on his face reading that he just didn’t care. “its not worth it you’ll go to jail!” you feel tears in your eyes at the thought of him not being in the house with you and wheezie anymore. wheezie.

he lifts his fist to strike a final blow, and you holler out once more. “think of wheezie!”

it’s then he freezes, blinks a couple of times — and then just like that he looks around at the scene he’s caused and shoves off onto his feet, walking away. he walks away from the party, infact — he walks all the way home.

maybe he should keep his relationship with you professional, he could have been locked up for life that night. love makes you do crazy things.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

[its-rach-writes]

Like Father Like Son - Chapter One

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Summary: In the midst of a brewing war, a Golden Retriever Gryffindor falls for a Black Cat Slytherin. Hadn't this all happened before?

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of character death,

A/N: Soooo, I'm back in work after having 10 days of annual leave :'( I will be posting every other day instead of every day! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! xxx

Chapter One

It wasn’t like you hated Harry Potter, because you really didn’t but you just didn’t get what all the fuss was about. Your dad had always taught you to be kind to people despite their blood status or Hogwarts house. When you arrived at Hogwarts, you tried to keep an open mind but Potter was simply infuriating.

He didn’t deserve to just be put on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in first year, after spending 5 minutes on a broom. And, you definitely wouldn’t admit that he was a pretty good player. Your infuriation only increased in second year when he emerged bloody and dirty from the Chamber of Secrets. If that had been anyone else, they would have been expelled, Potter didn’t even get points taken from him, in fact he was awarded a special service to the school!

In third year, you had to watch your Uncle love Potter more than he loved you, as they bonded over Potter’s mum and dad. The boy had stumbled his way through the Triwizard Tournament, getting favouritism at every turn, somehow beating students who were intellectually better than him. The tournament had come to a sticky end when he reappeared from the maze, clutching Cedric’s dead body and babbling about Voldemort being back.

In fifth year, oh in fifth year, for the first time in your life, you were grateful for Potter. Grateful that your Uncle wasn’t alone as he quietly slipped through the veil.

The woods were silent as you and your dad foraged in the clearing for potion ingredients. You were a perfectionist so you would be damned if you lost marks because your ingredients were old and shit. Besides, the silence seemed to work wonders for your dad.

“I’m worried for you, dad.”

He scoffed as he put some ingredients into your basket, “why in the world would you be worried for me?”

You bit your lip as the worry swirled in your stomach, “the Defence Against the Dark Arts position is cursed,” you tried not to think about what had befallen the previous Professors. Snape had left the school the year before and your dad had explained to you that the old potions master was coming back so he’d been asked to fill the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“I don’t want what happened to Uncle Sirius happen to you.”

“Oh, my little star,” he pulled you into a hug, completely encasing you in his arms, “nothing is going to happen to me.”

“Love you, dad.”

“I love you too,” he kissed your forehead, “try to be nice to Harry Potter, this year yeah?”

You grumbled into his chest, “I’m not horrible to him or anything but he just infuriates me so much!”

Regulus snorted with a laugh, “yeah, I know the feeling.”

You cursed beneath your breath as the wheel of your suitcase got stuck. Again. It brought you to a grinding halt.

“Hey, Y/N!” you heard Potter before you saw him as he bent down to unstick the wheel. He was always so kind to you, despite your infuriation with him.

“Thanks Potter,” you went to turn away, but you saw how sad his eyes were, despite his smile, “I appreciate that Sirius wasn’t alone.”

Potter nodded as he pushed his glasses up his nose, “how are you doing with that by the way?”

You shrugged, “didn’t really know him.”

Potter scratched the back of his neck and it wasn’t hard to miss the guilt that spread across his face. You could see Granger and Weasley lingering behind him, “see you later, Potter,” you weren’t in the mood to bond over dead loved ones.

Draco waved at you as you pulled open the compartment door and sat between Blaise and Theo, “saw you talking to Potty,” he commented making you laugh.

“Don’t call him that. And, is this the part where you order me not to talk to him?”

Draco scowled at you, “I don’t care who you talk to, Y/N. Just leave me out of it.”

“Deal,” you grinned.

You spent the first hour sharing food with your friends, listening to Enzo’s stories about his summer in Italy. No one asked about your summer, to outsiders it might have looked like they were being rude but you knew they didn’t want to cause you unnecessary pain. You loved them for that.

Pansy looked up from where she was painting her nails, “isn’t your dad teaching Defence this year?” when you nodded, she smirked, “your dad’s hot.”

“What?!” you squawked.

“Come on! We’ve all seen the photograph of you and him that you put on your bedside. He’s sexy.”

“I agree,” Blaise spoke up, grinning at you, “Regulus Black is a dilf.”

You gagged dramatically, “both of you can keep your filthy mitts off my dad!”

The teasing continued until an eagle owl flew in through the open window looking bedraggled from the earlier rain. It landed on your lap and you took the note from its beak. Sparing a glance at the others, you broke the seal and read the letter, getting worried with every word.

“Mattheo’s not coming back this year,” you said as you passed the letter to Theo.

“Did you see him at yours over the summer?” Blaise asked. Voldemort had been taking up residence in the Malfoy Manor.

Draco shrugged, “when he wasn’t shut up in the guest room,” he glanced at you, “I’m surprised I didn’t see you over the summer.”

“My dad fell out of favour just before I was born,” ever since you were little you’d lived in a cute little house in a valley, by a lake.

But when Voldemort had returned a couple of years prior Regulus had moved you back to his mother’s house. It was unplottable on a map and had various enchantments to deter intruders though your dad still had to use Polyjuice Potion each time he left the house. Maybe Dumbledore has figured that he’d be safer at Hogwarts.

The rest of the journey was sobering as you all constructed a reply back to your friend, hoping he was alright. As the train reached the platform, Pansy outstretched her hand to Draco who stayed seated while the rest of you got up. He told the rest of you to go in ahead and he’d catch up.

You turned to Pansy as you got onto the platform, “you know, you can do a lot better than him right?” she’d had a crush on Draco for years.

“Trust me, I know that now. But, he really is the safest option right now.”

Draco quickly caught up to you while you were waiting to go into The Great Hall, he shoved his hands into his pockets as he followed you in. As you got to the Slytherin table, Pansy pouted as she looked up at the teacher’s table.

“I can’t see your gorgeous dad because Theodore is in the way!”

“I’m not encouraging your sick crush,” Theo laughed as he turned to wink at you.

“Thanks, Theo,” you giggled.

Soon enough, Dumbledore introduced the new Professors, Horace Slughorn and your dad, “there he is,” Pansy hissed in your ear over all the applause, you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Halfway through dinner, Potter walked in holding a bloody rag to his face as he sat down with his friends.

You turned to Draco, “what the fuck did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?”

“You’re the only person who would,” you scoffed as you watched the boy mop at his face with an already bloodied rag. You grabbed a wad of tissues from your bag and walked over, “Potter, here,” you all but pushed the tissues into his hands.

“Y/N, thanks!” he grinned, even though it split his lip open, blood immediately running down his chin.

“Don’t get it twisted, didn’t want to watch you make a scene,” you spun on your heel and walked back across the hall, missing the way that Potter watched you with a dazed expression.

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

Taglist: @hiireadstuff

[darkbluekies]

I'm sorry to bother you, I just wanted to see the Yandere's reaction when they found out that their S/O has a lot of scars because of their father who was a very abusive man with their mother and their S/O when she was just a child

Warnings: abuse, murder, beating someone to death with a lamp, celebrating a death, bruises, dragging someone behind a horse, beheading,

Silas: 

Would become furious. Everything suddenly clicked into place, all your out of pocket behaviors. He would set out every man he could find to make sure your father paid the price for what he did to you, while rescuing your mother in the mean time. She would get her own little house with Silas’s guard staying around 24/7 to make sure nothing would happen to her. Silas would stay with you the entire night, just to talk to make sure that you wouldn’t feel lonely. He would hold you close and let you talk about your childhood, giving you reassurance. 

“He will never get close to you and your mother again. If he does, I will strangle him myself. Might do it myself, actually. My men are just toying with him a little right now. What they’re doing? Let’s just say that he gets a taste of his own medicine.”

Dr Kry: 

He would notice it when you change into the hospital gown. His heart would sink down to his stomach. He would ask you about it, and if you decided to tell him, he would sit with you and reassure you that nothing was your fault and that you were safe at the hospital. And then, he would kill your father when you were sleeping. If you didn’t tell him, he would dig out the information himself, until he got the answers he wanted … and then he would kill the father. Dr Kry wouldn’t admit that he had done it. After all, he is the sweetest doctor you’ve known, he would never have done something. But he would smile every time he thought about emptying him of blood.

“Why I’m smiling? I’m just thinking about some memories. How are you feeling? Still thinking of your dad? You shouldn’t be, it only brings you pain. The bastard’s dead now, and he will never hurt you again. Never again.”

King Edmund:

Would have had your father dragged through the gravel on the front yard behind a horse while he stood on the stairs with his arms crossed. He would have enjoyed seeing his face scratched open on the small stones, creating a bloodstream behind him. When Edmund would have been satisfied, he would have gone over with a sword, cut his head off and kicked it around like a ball. The body and head would be burned — nothing should remain of him. Then he would return to you and hold you tightly, kissing your head over and over again. 

“I have obliviated him. He can never return. He will never hurt you again, my jewel. Do you know how much I enjoyed hurting him? I would have loved for you to watch his suffering, but you are in no state to see that. His ashes will be used in the shit bin. That’s what he deserves. I will have everyone who knew about his deeds on you beheaded and hung at the city center. I promise. The one daring to shield that scum will be dealt with.”

Jerry: 

You would have been at your childhood home and she noticed that something was wrong. You accidentally let out that your father was a horrible man. She would shoot up from the couch right then and there and grab the nearest weapon, this time it happened to be a lamp. You ran after her, but couldn’t stop her from beating your father to death with the lamp. She would turn to you and her mother and wipe her forehead from sweat. She would reassure the two of you that the two of you get the best protection. Her men would move your mother far away, give her a new identity and shield her, all on Jerry’s demand. Jerry would lay down on the couch when you got home and hold you close to her breast. 

“He deserved this, and you know it too. Bitch deserved even more than that. You’re safe now. How about we celebrate this fucker’s death? Some champagne? Some cake? The bitch is dead, finally! Get up, let’s go buy fireworks!”

Hedwig:

First, she would hold you in her arms, crying with you, and then she would call up her hitmen. That man would not be alive in the morning hours. You would get the news from your mother and Hedwig would pretend to not know anything while hugging you. She would smile behind your back and look worried when you looked at her. The two of you would go pick up your mom and have her stay with Hedwig until everything was settled. Hedwig would take such good care of your mother. She would buy her presents and sit with her in the evenings to talk to her, to let her clear her head. 

“Your mother is doing okay, Y/N, don’t worry about her. How about the three of us go on a little trip together. You have both deserved it so much. I love you so much, and I cherish your mother a lot. I want her to understand how much I love you and your family. He’s gone, and now it’s time for the two of you to get the life you deserve.”

[pikatrainer99]

Let's talk about Barry for a minute.

This boy is so underappreciated and gets way too much hate just for being ADHD incarnate (or as the haters say, "his hyperactive squirrel brain"). The haters also don't recognize that Barry actually has a character arc in the games. He learns the importance of slowing down throughout his journey, especially after his loss to Jupiter at Lake Acuity. He had been one step ahead of the player the whole game, but this loss actually makes him stop and think things through for a bit, deciding to take his time and train up more. As a result, the player is the one to get the last Gym Badge and make it to the League first. Also, let's not forget that Barry had the patience (and probably hyperfocus) to get a MUNCHLAX and a HERACROSS from the honey trees...y'know, the two RAREST honey tree Pokémon...? Yeah...that takes PATIENCE. Even I don't have the patience for that...but I'm also a very impatient person myself (I blame my parents, who are also impatient, for passing it on to me and my brothers), my "now now now" attitude has driven my family crazy millions of times by now, but I digress.

Something else that's important to mention is Barry's personality (other than his ADHD traits, that is). This kid is a genuinely good guy. He's the player's best friend and that doesn't stop when he becomes the player's rival. He gives the player tips, he doesn't look down on the player or bully them, he's always excited to see them whenever they cross his path, is genuinely happy for them when they get their last Gym Badge and says he won't be far behind, etc. Barry also genuinely loves Pokémon, they are his friends, not tools for battle. He gets angry when around Team Galactic because of how they treat Pokémon, he went into empathy overdrive for Uxie's suffering after losing to Jupiter at Lake Acuity, etc. And he gets excited and happy when around people who love Pokémon as much as he does, like the player and Gym Leaders, for example. Barry also NEVER gives up, which is definitely a great character trait, especially for a rival character. He's set on his goal and nothing can pull him away from it, not even multiple losses to the player. It makes me feel less bad about beating him because I know he's just gonna bounce back each time and try again. That's just how Barry is and he's my favorite friendly rival because of it. I never feel like I'm crushing his dreams like I do with Hop, for example. Instead I'm making him stronger, both in resolve, and as a Trainer.

That doesn't mean that he doesn't have a sad side to him though...because he does. He has daddy issues, BIG TIME. This kid's whole motivation is to get strong enough to challenge and defeat his dad, Tower Tycoon Palmer. He wants to be acknowledged by his dad SO BADLY that in Pokémon Masters he straight-up TELLS YOU that the reason he keeps fining people is because he wants to use the fines he collects to build his own Battle Tower because, in his mind, that's the way to get acknowledgement from his dad. But no one ever takes him seriously (most likely because of how often he does this, how much money he asks for, and also the fact that he's a CHILD), so he never gets any money. I'll be honest, my heart broke for this poor kid during that conversation. I used to think that Barry's "I'm fining you 10 million Pokédollars!" was just his way of expressing annoyance or even just a verbal tic of sorts...but in Masters it's revealed that he's dead serious when he says those things, all because he's so desperate for his dad's approval that he wants to make him proud by building and running his own Battle Tower. Again, he's a CHILD! That shouldn't be any child's goal, especially not for something all kids deserve, which is parent approval! As someone who is ALSO constantly seeking my own dad's approval, this conversation hit home for me. My dad doesn't really approve of anything I'm interested in or anything I do, he wants me to be someone else entirely...but I can't be who he wants me to be, I can't be who ANYONE in this world wants me to be...I can only be myself and I want to make my dad proud just by being me...

The Pokémon Evolutions episode "The Rival" is ALL ABOUT Barry's daddy issues. Everything he does and says in that episode is all about getting strong enough to challenge his dad. He's able to beat him in the end, finally getting the acknowledgement he deserves (he would still deserve it even if he didn't win, or even get to challenge him, let's be clear). So it's a happy ending there, but in the gameverse that's not a clear-cut thing that happens, so we never know if he even does get to face his dad. He shows up in the Fight Area on weekends to battle the player but that's really it as far as I'm aware. In the games, Barry also admires Crasher Wake and wants him to take him under his wing and mentor him, but Wake refuses, which honestly makes me angry since Barry clearly wants (and needs) a father figure in his life since Palmer is absent all the time. At least in the manga Wake does train Pearl, so there is ONE Pokémon universe where Wake mentors the kid...buuuuut he should've done it in the games too, just sayin'.

So yeah, that's basically my ramble on Barry. Honestly this wasn't planned or anything, I just out of nowhere started thinking about Barry and how hated he is, and impulsively wrote this whole entire essay without scripting it out beforehand so this might be a bit hard to follow 😅. But I just love this kid and I don't understand the hate he gets, so he deserves an appreciation post in my opinion...so this is the post! Let me know what you think down below!

[obxsummer]

HEARTFIRST // JJ Maybank

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

warnings: mentions of abuse, sibling drama, nothing too drastic

request: heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!

navigation 

more from the SUBJECT TO CHANGE series

--

John B was pissed. Fuming. Ready to strangle his best friend of too many years for something so stupid. There had always been one rule since JJ Maybank and John Booker Routledge became best friends: you were off limits. Y/N Routledge was not to be flirted with, dated, looked at, or spoken to unless John B approved it. 

At first, it didn’t matter. Growing up as kids, John B had his friends and you had yours but once your dad dove headfirst into a treasure hunt, everything went to shit. Kiara’s Kook year had really screwed up your relationship, leaving JJ and Pope to fill in the gaps which pulled you closer and closer with your brother and his friends. You were teenagers then and everything felt so important and critical, even if it wasn’t. 

So when John B realized his best friend and his sister were together, there was nothing that could stop him from losing his shit on the two of you.

Met him at a party, accidentally brushed his body On the way to get a drink at the bar I couldn't wait 'til later, talking in the elevator Then we're kissing in the back of the car

The kegger idea had really sounded good at first; it was something to get your minds off your missing father, not to mention the sudden dead bodies popping up from the hurricane. None of it seemed too out of place for you, minus the newfound treasure hunting, but you were always up for a good party. 

“Where the hell did you find a keg on such short notice?” You asked JJ as the two of you hauled the large object down towards the Boneyard. You never really thought about how quickly JJ managed to find alcohol when it was for a party. It was common knowledge that he just knew where to go and how to do it. 

“Don’t you worry about that, Birdie. You know I’ve got my ways.”

The party was in full swing a few hours later. You’d spent most of your time with John B and Sarah before dipping to find the boy that seemed to be taking up most of your mind. JJ had been occupied with beer pong for a good portion of the last hour and you were determined to break him away.

That voice in my head says to slow down But it can't see the way you're looking at me right now It may not be next week, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

The drink in your hand sloshed over the rim of the cup as someone ran into your side in their drunken stumbling. JJ’s attention moved to you instantly. He’d always been so in tune with you and your presence but it only got stronger ever since your dad left. 

The previously occupied beat-up table full of red solo cups was left behind in trade for your company, JJ instantly taking your hand in his as he twirled you. He would give up so much to watch you smile like that every day. You deserved every bit of happiness that came to you because it certainly didn’t come often. 

Your laughter was infectious and JJ was drunk on it. He didn’t know who made the move or who threw the back door of the Twinkie open but shit, your skin was so soft and JJ just couldn’t stop kissing you. 

The line between friends and more slowly disappeared between you and JJ. At some point, your bed became his, and his clothes blended with yours. The thrill of hiding from the Pogues was exciting, sneaking moments when the two of you could to enjoy the one thing you had to yourselves.

JJ was everything to you and yet, it terrified you. You’ve never had a person to connect with in the way you did with him. The thought of your friends, of your brother, being pissed about what was going on was suffocating. What if this fucked up the group? What if JJ left you for someone else when he got bored? JJ was always quick to shut that idea down. 

“We’ve grown up together, Birdie. Kinda stupid of them to think something wasn’t gonna happen within the group at some point, right?” Which was always followed by: “You’re it for me. Now get outta that pretty little head and let me love on you.”

He had a point, but then again when JJ was pressing kisses down your neck, you never could think clearly.

Could be forever or we might break That's just the kind of risk that we take My head is yelling that I could get hurt But I'm gonna jump right in Baby, with my heart first

“You wanna tell them?” JJ’s voice was muffled as he spoke into the skin of your shoulder. The two of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, watching bemused as Kiara and Pope challenged Sarah and John B to an intense game of cards out on the dock. 

You sat beside the blond boy. To any observing eyes, it would just look like two friends having a civil conversation. To you, JJ’s hand was behind your back, fingers gently moving across the skin of your hip that wasn’t covered by the t-shirt over your swimsuit. 

“No.” Your answer didn’t have any anger or harshness behind it. You simply just loved having JJ all to yourself, with no judgment or prying eyes. No pressure to make it something neither of you wanted. It felt selfish to a point to keep something from your friends, from your brother. 

“Get out of your head.”

A smile made its way onto your face as you took the risk of leaning your head against JJ’s shoulder, tucking further into his side. JJ was so warm, his tan skin from constant surfing smooth against your cheek. It scared you sometimes, how comfortable everything was when it involved him. 

JJ’s heart skipped watching you be so relaxed, so vulnerable around him. He’d been so used to living on the edge and being tense for so long that it was so… vulnerable, so healing to have someone feel protected and safe enough to be by his side. 

Who knows what'll happen, ain't that always kinda magic When you don't know who's holding the cards Could be a wish I never knew ya or permanently tattoo ya Only the moon knows what's in the stars (what's in the stars)

You were pissed. You don’t know at what point John B thought he could parent you when the two of you were so close in age. Who was he after all this time to think he could boss you around?

“How long? How long has this been going on?” John B’s voice almost rattled the windows, echoing around the space surrounding you and JJ. The two of you stood there awkwardly like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. 

“Three months,” Your whisper was almost incoherent. Your eyes were trained on the ground, heart thumping in your chest so loud you figured JJ could probably hear it. This was the risk that came with not telling them, with keeping secrets amongst Pogues. God, there were so many stupid rules. 

John B’s hand slammed against the counter. “Three-Three months? God. I just…There was one rule. One fucking rule JJ. You promised!”

JJ visibly flinched at the anger in John B’s statement. That was true; JJ did promise John B he’d never get with you, never hurt you. All of that flew out the door the moment JJ saw you at that kegger. He had to risk it.

“I’m..I’m sorry, man! It just happened, okay? And-and we didn’t want to tell you guys because we didn’t want something like this to happen!”

“Well it’s happening,” John B scoffed with a shake of his head. The disappointment on his face was suffocating and you felt like you would burst into tears at any second. It wasn’t fair. Being forced apart when you knew you loved JJ? How is that fair?

John B shifted further into your line of vision. “Get the fuck out. Now. And don’t let me see you two near each other until I figure this out, got it?”

You looked up in a panic. “John B-”

“Do not argue with me right now. I don’t want to talk to you.” The look in your brother’s eyes left no room for argument. You’d never seen him this mad, especially toward you. 

JJ’s fingers squeezed your wrist lightly before he shuffled out the door behind you. The creaky hinges filled the room as you and John B stared at each other, waiting for the other to break. 

The fridge door popped open when your brother finally decided to move to grab a beer. Part of you wanted to run after JJ, to prove to John B that you didn’t have to listen to him. The problem was, you knew JJ respected your brother too much to let you do that for him. 

“You didn’t have to be so harsh on him,” You mumbled when you mustered up enough courage. John B tended to be… touch and go when he was angry. There was a risk of setting off another fuse if you didn’t watch what you said. 

As kids, JJ always picked on your brother for inheriting your dad’s temper. John B hated that it was true. To your relief, your brother let out a sigh and placed both of his hands on the counter. He felt instant regret watching JJ flinch at the noise level, knowing exactly what happened in the Maybank house when nobody else was around. “I know.” 

“I can’t tell you that I’m gonna stop being with him,” You admitted, holding your ground while you had the chance. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I respect your opinion a lot, Booker, but if it means staying away from JJ, I’ll learn to live without it.”

 It was a little more aggressive than you intended for it to be but it needed to be said. You moved through the kitchen to your room without another word. 

Mm, that voice in my head says to slow down But it can't feel your hands on my hips right now It may not be next year, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

JJ felt horrible for doing this. He knew he was playing with fire but as he pushed up your bedroom window, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He could deal with John B later. Right now, he really needed you. 

He was a little less than graceful stumbling through your window in the darkness, but he found his way eventually. You shifted awake from his rustled movements and caught a quick glance at his silhouette before turning to flick the light on. “JJ? What’s wrong? Do you need-”

“Nothin’. Sorry to wake you, Birdie. Just wanted to see you.” You could tell he was avoiding meeting your eyes as he kicked off his shoes. The coloration of bruising was beginning to show through his abdomen and you shook your head slightly. JJ didn’t like to explain when his dad treated him like this. He kept quiet and you didn’t push him because he would always talk when he wanted to about what happened. 

So, you turned the lights off and cuddled up next to him, hoping you would wake up before John B saw anything.

JJ didn’t always have nightmares when it came to his dad, but whatever happened was terrible enough that he did. Half the time they weren’t even about his dad hitting him; it always involved his dad hurting you. 

The blond’s sharp movements woke you up before the screaming did. You didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, his hands grasping your hips to hold as you settled across his lap. His shirt puddled on your thighs as he let his fingers drift across your bare skin above your pajama shorts. JJ tucked his face in your neck and just listened to your heartbeat, reassuring him that you were right here and you were safe.

John B couldn’t say he was pleased to be woken up at 5:00 in the morning. Even less so when the alarm clock involved screaming. It wasn’t your voice though, and he didn’t know if that was a relief or something to be worried about. 

You didn’t flinch when your brother threw your door open to reveal the sight within. You knew he could see the fact that the two of you were fully clothed and clearly, everything was okay… well, as okay as it could be. 

Eyes moving to look at John B, you prayed he wouldn’t say anything while JJ was so upset. To your surprise and gratitude, he didn’t. He stared at both of you for a moment as the realization settled in. The realization that you were old enough to make these decisions for yourself and as much as John B wanted to protect you, to protect you and JJ, he couldn’t keep you apart. 

John B gave you a small nod and mouthed to let him know if you or JJ needed anything. You gave him a forced smile back, a barely there ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you hugged your boyfriend tighter to your chest. 

As your bedroom door closed, you had this overwhelming sense of relief that maybe…maybe it would all work out after all. 

I gotta have ya, gotta see if this works I gotta have ya, wake up in your t-shirt I gotta have ya, diving in heart first

[squishykitty825]

Death by comparison

Comparing oneself to others is a given in life.

Comparing oneself to one's heroes is also a given.

People say to never meet your heroes. Most say this because they believe their heroes will never measure up to who they thought they were. Others say this because they believe they will never measure up to the greatness that is their hero.

For Tim, he believed neither. He met his heroes. Met Batman and Robin Nightwing. And they were everything he expected them to be and more. He even became one of them. Became the new Robin after the loss of the last.

He was finally getting everything he'd dreamed of. Even things he never could have imagined. So why did he feel as though he didn't deserve it? As though he was unworthy of the Robin mantle.

Despite Dick's encouraging smiles and Bruce's constant efforts of being a better dad than his actual father, Tim couldn't rid himself of that feeling deep in his gut. A feeling of worthlessness, that he was just pretending to fit in.

His fears were only deepened with Jason's return from the dead. When another of his heroes hunted him down, took down his team, and nearly beat him to death, all while calling him a pretender. A replacement. Because that's what he was. He was a pretender. A replacement. An imposter.

Tim Drake was nothing more than a replacement for a dead son. A pretender in disguise. An imposter with a brilliantly crafted mask.

His life as Robin was nothing more than a facade of gilded lilies. Maybe that's why he walked away under the guise of taking time off to find himself. Maybe he walked away because he didn't want to keep up the charade anymore.

Or maybe he was running away. From the family he didn't feel a part of. From the role he had failed at. From the comparison that was slowly killing him.

Death by comparison, what a way to go.

[sophswritingthings]

SIXTH PART LOL 😸😸😸

So now the reader and Mizu are so well Acquainted that soon they get married to each other but it was literally just a small wedding and when i say small I mean Mizu proposes and says some sappy stuff and Reader says something sappy as well and then they call it a day. (MIZU AND READER DESERVES A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING IMO).

Mizu is out doing whatever and reader is at home making dinner and BAM someone breaks in again (Girly needs better security honestly 🤨🤨) and she goes straight for the kill with her ninja stars and Kunais but the guy is really good at dodging them and goes like "all that training and you still can't throw properly" and shown to be her dad and she starts to fight him and asks why he's here and he says he's here to collect Mizu for her bounty and reader ain't letting that slide.

They start to fight and reader has the upper hand during the first part of the fight, but then her dad pulls a quick one and starts to talk about how her siblings are all dead and it's her fault and she starts to cry and gets pinned against the wall (Via neck btw) and Mizu comes home to seeing reader crying and pinned against the wall.

Readers dad comes for Mizu and an epic showdown happens and Mizu wins ofc but reader is left crying on the ground and cue a fluffy scene where Mizu kisses readers head and comforts her (via pulling her to a hug and into her lap while reader cries abt her siblings).

pairing: mizu x fem!apothecary!reader

warning(s): blood, injury, swearing

a/n: damn reader is just getting SLAMMED. also yes, she very much needs better security 😭

summary: the ask summarizes it I’d say

word count: 977 words / 5,291 characters 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the two of you were taking a walk, along the mountains, hands clasped together—like you'd never let go. little did you know… that was the plan.

mizu stopped in her tracks.

you paused, turning around to face her.

“uh, mizu? Is something wrong?”

no, nothing was wrong. 

she grabbed one of your hands again, rubbing her fingers over your knuckles. you continued to look at her, confused by her behavior. 

“we’ve been seeing each other for a while, now, (y/n),” she murmured, glancing up from your hands. “if this were.. traditional, we would be considered married.”

your eyes widened. was she really…

“I wanted to know, if we possibly.. could, be married.” she said rather bluntly, “I love you, (y/n), more than I have ever loved anyone. If you would accept my hand, in marriage, that would make me happier than I have ever been.”

you were close to tears, at this point. hearing her proclamation of love for you, it warmed your heart.

“yes,” you whispered. “yes—I love you, mizu, I really do. I’ve never loved someone so much,” you rest your forehead against hers. “but it isn’t like we can have a ceremony.”

she nods a little, holding your waist. “this is enough for me. we don’t need anything special… just to call you my wife is enough.”

you're humming softly, making you and your wife dinner. she was out, probably trying to collect information again—usually that came up with nothing—and you were waiting for her to return.

knock.

Knock.

KNOCK.

the beating got progressively louder, sitting off a red alert in your head. you grabbed your stars and kunai's, ready to protect yourself.

wasn’t the first time you had to do so..

as the man burst through the door; you couldn’t see his face. his face was concealed, and he was dressed in all black. you had no clue who he was; but he was going down.

you begin to toss your weapons at him, trying to either pin him or kill him, at worst. 

he laughs, a big bellowed laugh, dodging each and every one, “all that training and you still can’t throw properly, can you?”

you stop in your tracks as he tossed off his mask. your eyes widen, your eyes wide—they begin to sparkle with tears. a man you feared so very much; he'd shown up at your doorstep.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask, your voice raspy with emotion.

“I am here to collect the onryō that resides here,” he takes a pace toward you. “I know you're hiding him, little flower. I am here to collect him for a bounty. where is he?”

your eyes narrowed to slits, “you mean my husband?” you grumble, “yeah, I don’t think so.”

he scoffs, “husband? i always knew you were a fucking idiot, but this? marrying an onyrō? I thought you were at least better than that, little flower.”

you launch yourself at him, knocking him off his feet. you tussle and tumble for a few moments, knocking over flowers and vases along the way.

“your siblings are gone, and it is all your goddamn fault. and now.. married to a demon?” he scoffed. you stopped. you were holding his collar, a kunai pointed at his throat. “they died. they're all fucking dead, because of you. after you ran away; they had no one to protect them.. their big sister abandoned them, and they died in your wake.”

you shook your head, your entire body shaking as you began  to cry.

“I-it isn’t my fault, y-you—“

“trying to pin this on your father? how pathetic,” he pushed you to wall, pushing a kunai through the skin of your throat.

you cried out in pain; pinned to the wall with a kunai through your neck—

“now where is the onryō?” he hissed.

“onryō? I’m right here.”

your eyes snap open as you hear mizu's voice, a small ensemble of relief washing over you.

“ah, there you are,” he released his grip from you, turning to face mizu. “prepare to die.”

“prepare to die?“ she scoffed, tossing off her overcoat, hat and glasses. “I’ve been prepared to die since the day I was born, do you seriously think I am scared of the idea?”

mizu reached for her katana, unsheathing the sword in one fell swoop. she narrowed her eyes, gazing at your father.

“I think it is you who should be prepared,” she hissed. “you were dead the minute you laid a hand on my wife.”

he lunged at mizu, his blade attempting to slice her waist, but she was too quick—she moved with speed and stealth, her moves unable to be accounted for.

he turned on his heels, yet another attempt to slide her in half—but to no avail. he missed once more, and this time, mizu grabbed her sword—sweeping past his waist in one precise, clean cut as she moved past him.

he stopped moving.

his body fell limp.

you watched the scene unfold; your father's body falling into two halves, blood gushing from both sides.

mizu turned to you in an instant, pulling the kunai from your neck. you cried out in pain, falling into her arms, sobbing.

she moves you to the floor, pulling you into her lap in a tight hug.

“It’s okay.. it’s okay,” she whispered, brushing her hand through your hair. “he's not something you have to worry about ever again.”

“I-it’s all my fault,” you whimper. “t-they’re all dead because of me, mizu.”

“no. no, don’t think like that, my love,” she hissed. “it isn’t your fault. It’s that monsters fault. and he’s dead; you can rest now.”

you nodded, burying your head in her neck.

she kissed the top of your head, pulling you into a tighter hug. she never wanted to let you be hurt ever again—

—and she wouldn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: the mizu gifs are killing me bro. SHES SO HOT

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 13

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, depression, mentions of suicide, despair, feeling trapped. Mentions of abuse.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 12

Series masterlist Main Masterlist

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

You wake to the most warming and nostalgic smell; your favourite breakfast your mother used to make for you every Sunday morning.

Puzzled, you throw the covers off of you, swinging your legs over your bed and get up to realize you're in your childhood room. You touch everything near you, fearing it might fade away, grabbing onto your old blanket, the one you used to clutch at night when you were scared or nervous. You hear your name being called and walk towards it, following the delicious smell.

As you turn the corner and walk into the kitchen you see your parents swaying along to a song they're humming together.

"Mom? Dad?" you whisper, tears brewing in your eyes.

"Honey, there you are! Why are you crying?" your mother approaches you, smiling as she wraps you in a warm hug.

"I - I just... miss you." you stutter.

"Miss me? I saw you only a few hours ago, my flower! Come and eat breakfast, I made your favourite." she beckons you over.

“No… Mom that’s not possible…. I - this isn’t real. Am I dead?” you ask her quietly, your voice comes out breathless as you try to grasp what’s going on.

“Nonesense! Are you ill? Come and eat.” she places her hand on your forehead to feel for a temperature and leads you to the table.

You sit down, unsure and confused.

This feels familiar. This day has already happened.

With your mom’s encouragement you take a bite, moaning in delight and reminiscing on the flavour. Your mom giggles at you as she watches you shove food in your mouth.

"You're acting so strange today... are you sure you're alright?" your father questions you, gently caressing your arm.

"Perhaps she just misses her love." your mother teases.

You freeze as she says this. "My - my love? Who do you mean, mother?" your mouth feels dry, hands sweaty, heart beating wildly at your mother's comment.

It can't be. They never met... him... I - It can't... how?

Suddenly there's a knock at the door. Your mother squeals in excitement as she pushes you to get up and answer it. As you begin to turn the handle, the door flings open, making you jump.

"There you are, my angel." The large and imposing man pulls you into a hug.

You freeze like a deer in headlights, mind spinning with confusion, fear and anger.

"How is this possible? it can't be! What - What are you doing here?! Get off of me! Let me go!" you scream as you struggle to get out of his grip.

"Angel, please. What has gotten into you?" he says, his grip tightening around your arm painfully.

The old nickname makes your skin crawl. You only fight him further and try to escape his grip on you.

"You're making a fool of yourself in front of your parents." He says through gritted teeth.

"No, please. Mom, Dad, tell him to let me go!" you cry out, begging them to help you.

Your eyes searching theirs, tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Mom? Dad?" you cry out for them again but they say nothing as they stare at you stoically.

"This is your punishment, angel. You deserve this, all of it." your mother sneers.

"What? - I don't understand" you continue to cry as you desperately try to break out of his hold, only causing it to tighten as he grabs a hold of both of your arms, pinning them behind you. He flips you around to face him, his eyes glaring with anger and cruelty.

"You cursed us all. They're dead because of you. Do't you get it? I am your punishment. I made you fall in love with me so I can use you and dispose of you like the piece of garbage that you are. Nothing but a tool for me to get what I want. " You violently push against his hold, desperately trying to pull yourself out of his grip as you sob, mind reeling with the nightmares of the past.

He laughs at you mockingly "You may have escaped me but you will never forget me. I will forever plague your mind. You will never know a peaceful sleep again. You may have gotten rid of me physically, but I will always be there, in your mind. You will never forget." he sneers at you, leaning in so your face is inches apart.

He grips your cheeks painfully and turns you to face your parents.

You gasp at the sight in front of you. A multitude of arms, red and black burnt flesh have sprung from the floor, clinging onto your parents and dragging them below as they scream in anguish. Every time an arm grabs a hold of them, their flesh burns and sizzles, forming scorched handprints on their body.

"How could you?!" your mother screams at you as she sinks further below, screeching in agony as more and more limbs attach to her body, burning her, dragging her below the surface.

"This is all your fault! You have damned us to hell!" Your father spits at you as he sinks to his knees in pain.

"We will never forgive you. We will haunt you for the rest of your life. He will see to it that you suffer for what you have done. You will never know happiness or peace again!" he bellows his final words as he is engulfed below the surface, leaving nothing but ashes and smoke on the floor.

You hear the man laugh maniacally behind you as he forced you to look at him again.

"This is where the fun begins, my angel." he pulls you closer and sniffs your hair, dragging his hand down your forehead to your lips, running his thumb over them, then holding your chin up.

You struggle against him, trying to push yourself away from him in disgust and fear but his strength is too much for you to handle.

"Stop - I would rather die than be with you again! You're a disgusting monster! I will fight you everyday of my life until my last breath. I will never yield to you again. I will escape every chance I get. I will not be your toy!" you scream at him.

"Oh, angel. I already told you. You will never escape me. I’ll be in your mind, torturing you slowly. You will never be able to move on. You can’t live without me." You feel him smack your face hard, sending you flying to the ground.

“I HAVE lived without you. Even as a damned servant in this palace, I have been treated better than I ever have with you. Even eating scraps and being beaten almost daily is NOTHING compared to you. I killed you once and I will do it again every time you try to plague my mind. You don’t control me anymore. You’re in MY mind, I control you.” You spit at him, getting up, flames blaring in your eyes.

“If I ever see you again, I will be your punishment, your hell. I suggest you get the fuck out of my mind before I obliterate you entirely. I’ve had enough. I escaped you, I killed you, and I will do it over and over again for eternity.”

At this point, you aren’t yelling or screaming. You’re eerily calm, staring him down, flames engulfing the room as your hands burn with fire.

He looks at you in fear and disbelief. You smirk at the sight of him. Finally he feels an ounce of the fear he made you endure all those years.

You laugh as you look at him “Run.”

As if he broke out of his trance, he immediately turns around and bolts out the room, and out of your mind.

You feel weak as you stumble to the floor, holding your head in your hands as everything turns black.

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

Loki paces by your bedside as he waits for the medics to finish their consultation of your state. Once they finish, they step away from you and clear their throats.

"Well? What is it?!" Loki demands.

Eir sighs "I haven't seen this in decades... this shouldn't be possible. Are you sure she is the source of the flames burning her room?"

"Yes, Eir! I have spoken to my mother about her.... condition.... but, this has never happened yet... what do I do?" he asks frantically.

"Well she has no external trauma... she is physically cleared... mentally, however...." Eir studies you worryingly.

Loki opens his mouth to continue the conversation when you suddenly start yelling "Get off of me! Let me go!". Eir and Loki share a concerned glance before approaching you.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me." Loki coaxes.

"No, please. Mom, Dad, tell him to let me go!" you scream again, writhing around in the medical bed. Eir places magical restraints on you to keep you in place.

"What's happening Eir?" Loki feels his panic growing, as he begins to sweat.

Wait. Why am I sweating?... I don't sweat unless under extreme heat.

"Fuck, Eir! She's doing it again!" Loki turns to her as she begins to cough, falling to the ground, sweating profusely.

"Shit!" Loki exclaims. He pours all of his magic into the room, lowering the temperature drastically while attempting to heal Eir as much as he can.

"I can't contain it for long! It's too powerful! She's going to cause this whole place to explode!" Loki yells behind him as Eir jumps back up and starts flinging through the medicine cabinet and comes out with a large syringe, stabbing you in the arm with it.

You immediately fall limp, the temperature of the room returns to normal. The paper that was beginning to burn fizzes out and only smoke remains.

"We can't keep her here. She is too dangerous. We have to kill her." Eir states as she grabs a hold of another syringe.

"No! I command you to stop!" Loki bellows.

Eir looks at him in shock and confusion. Loki has never commanded her to do anything.

"I will take her away from here, where she and everyone else will be safe. Give me time. Tell nobody. This stays between us. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my king." Eir says, bowing her head in respect.

In a puff of green smoke, you and him disappear from the room without disclosing where he has taken you.

Eir breathes out a long deep breathe, shaking her head incredulously and starts cleaning up her workspace.

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

Tag list:

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

@chxco-hyujin

@cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

@i-am-amora-the-enchantress

@cakesandtom

@dorck26

@buckitostan

@princessdragon23

@classicsandfantasy

@wolfsmom1

@stardream14

@em0220

@goblingirlsarah

@meow-meowmotherfucker-blog

@huntress-artemiss

@lunazeichnet

@luxky-aish

@the-paynetrain29

@obx1and2mcu

@paryl

@queergalpal97

[cherrycocaineee]

35. Joker - Safe With Me

*Warning: I’ve incorporated characters from both Gotham and Suicide Squad. Mention of Violence. Abuse. Legal Age Gap. Whatever else is considered a warning.*

Synopsis: After one of the most intense beatings she’s ever experienced by her father, Paisley runs away; only taking a pre-packed backup with her and ditching her cell. Not wanting to go to the Joker, afraid of what he’d do to her father if she did, she goes to an abandoned building instead. But being the property of the Joker means that he knows where she’s at at all times.

* Paisley’s p.o.v *

It was the worst it had ever been before; and even though it had been two hours since I had just experienced the most gruesome beating in my life, the pain was still fresh. The bruises formed almost immediately, and there were popped blood vessels in my eye coloring the white part red. My face was sticky with old tears, new ones adding to the mess as I looked at the mirror in my room. I hadn’t done anything wrong that warranted this type of outburst, in fact, it had nothing to do with me at all. Apparently, dad was going through some things at work that had him considering leaving Gotham; which I found out meant that he might lose his job if he stayed. He was so stressed out that he drank too much before coming home to take his drunken frustration out on me to make himself feel better.

   I moved some of my blonde hair out of my face; dry blood had crusted into my hair from the cut that it hid. My other hand reached up and touched my busted lip, wincing as I felt the sting of how fresh it was. I tried not to look at the thousands of bruises littering my body or the sharp pain in my ribs that might indicate a broken bone. The only thing I could think of the entire time I cried and looked at my wounds was that I couldn’t do this anymore, and that I deserved better than what I was getting. So I quietly opened my closet door, listening intently to the television downstairs, then grabbed my pre-packed bag out from underneath a few extra quilts and blankets. I was never worried about dad going through my belongings, I was worried about Freddy going through my things and finding stuff that I didn’t want to have to explain to him or my dad.

I didn’t plan on taking my cell phone with me, so I made sure to block the Joker’s number and hope that when I did see him again, he’d understand. I even deleted our messages so no one could go through them when they realized I was gone. I opened my underwear drawer and pulled out a wad of cash that I had been saving up from allowances. Once I had everything that I needed, I opened my window and crawled onto the extended tree limb that normally helped me sneak back in after my nights with Mister J. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I took off down the streets as quietly and quickly as I could. I didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention. All I wanted to do was get away from this man who was no longer my father.

    There really wasn’t anywhere I could go where someone didn’t recognize me; the whole city practically knew who my dad was, even the criminals knew. I’d go to the Joker later but right now, I was afraid of what he’d do once he saw me in this state. In the meantime, I dodged anyone I thought could recognize me and call home to inform my dad that I was wandering the streets of Gotham late at night. After some time, I had managed to walk my way into some abandoned building that I’d never noticed before. Glass covered every inch of the ground, mixing with the gray sand and dead grass, all of the windows were boarded up and I wondered if maybe the windows were broken on purpose when they closed down. It also could have been teenagers breaking in, similar to what I was doing. I could read the sign that was painted on the moldy bricks because it was too faded.

  “God,” I mumbled, “This is definitely how people die.”

  But even that was a better fate than being alive and beaten.

Taking a large breath, I made my way into the building. There were no lights on but the small cracks in the foundation allowed a few slips of moonlight to give me direction. In the distance, I could hear a small bubbling sound coming from a room. A green, illuminated light peeped underneath the door that contained it. Swallowing hard, I shuffled to the door and pushed it open; an eerie creek echoed off the empty, damp walls. Leading through the room was a high pavement of metal that looked wet like everything else in the building, however, surprisingly it wasn’t rusted. I placed my foot on the metal carefully and listened for anything that would indicate I’d fall to my doom. When I was reassured that it was safe, I started walking further into the room. Underneath the walkway were enormous vats of green, steaming liquid that I recognized easily; the only reason I knew what it was was because of the lesson we did in chemistry class. It was acid. I was quickly reminded of Harley’s beginning, how it all started for her here. Part of me always wondered if the Joker kept me around to fill in the hole Harley left, if he really cared about me at all or was he doing it all to help him then toss me to the side. I was afraid to tell him that, to see what his reaction would be. Would he hit me like my father did when he was angry? Would he just leave me? Would I ruin something that I considered perfect in its own way?

    I eventually made it to the edge of the path and peered down at the rolling acid beneath me. I remembered telling Mister J that I didn’t want to end up diving into a pit of acid and becoming the new Harley, and he had been okay with it but I still wondered if that were the case. Sighing gently, I sat down and let my feet dangle over the edge. The drop looked further than it probably was, like if I was peering down at the mess beneath me from a tower. More tears slid down my cheeks and I buried my head into my hands as I started to sob uncontrollably like I had at home.

Time seemed to speed by while I sat alone, crying and wallowing in my own self pity. When I was officially cried out, I wiped all of the tears away as well as the small amount of snot bubbling at the end of my nose. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice the door opening or feet approaching me until I had a feeling someone was standing behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, sending a rush of fear rolling through my body. I was afraid that my dad had found me here and that I would receive more than what I’d gotten earlier. But that fear was tossed out the window when I heard the Joker’s voice.

   “What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, angry by the fact that I had blocked his number.

 “I just needed some time to think,” I whispered, never making eye contact with him so he couldn’t see my face.

  “You blocked my number,” his breathing was huffier, angrier, “Is that your way of telling me you’re done with me?”

  That time, I couldn’t even form the words to explain myself. All of the emotions resurfaced as I began to choke on sobs again, covering my mouth to quiet them to no avail. Mister J kneeled beside me, gripping my shoulders hard and forcing me to look at him. His eyes were cold and hard, dangerous and calculating; probably all of the ways to kill me. Then they softened and relaxed when he saw the condition I was in.

  “I had to leave,” I cried, “It was so much worse than…than before. And I had to block your number so he wouldn’t see I’d been speaking to you, in case he found me.”

 “Why didn’t you come to me, Paisley?”

 “Because I don’t want you to kill him! He’s my fa-father!”

I buried my head into the silk of his shirt, gripping the leather of his jacket while more sobs escaped. Drool started gathering onto his shirt creating a wet stain but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Mister J wrapped his strong, thick arms around me in comfort while brushing my hair with his fingers. When his fingers found the blood tangled in my hair, he froze but still kept whatever was brewing in his head to himself. Once again, I felt cried out so I pulled away, wiping away the drool and tears from my face as well as his shirt, at least the best I could.

  “I sh-shouldn’t have blocked you,” I croaked, “but I didn’t know what else to…to do. I’m so tired. Drained.”

  Mister J sat beside me, keeping his arm around me firmly.

 “Luckily,” Mister J muttered, his voice still rough with anger, “I know exactly how to find someone when I need to.”

 “How did you find me?” I asked, sniffling.

 “Someone I work close to saw you walking down the street with a frightened face. I figured it was because you were scared of me finding you but now that I’m looking at you, I know that wasn’t the case.”

  Mister J pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and clicked around before putting the phone to his ear. I stared up at him, wondering who he was calling right now.

 “Frost,” he said, answering my unspoken question, “Go to Paisley’s home and collect the rest of her things to bring back home. And take her dad too.”

My eyes widened and I tried to tell him no or anything else that would get him to leave my dad alone. When he hung up on Frost, I pushed him off of me angrily.

“I told you I didn’t want you to kill him!” I snapped.

  Mister J stared at me with a large grin on his face. His silver teeth glowing in the moonlight and the green, illuminating acid. I shook my head; it felt like he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. I climbed to my feet and grabbed my pre-packed runaway kit then started to leave. Mister J was quick to his own feet and grabbed my arm to keep me from leaving.

 “He hurt you and he continues to hurt you. He wants to take you away from me too, and I can’t allow that. I won’t allow that. As long as you and I are together, Paisley, you belong to me, and I won’t allow anything to happen to you like with Harley. Especially when I could have put an end to it. I listened, I didn’t go near him and I didn’t kill him like you asked but enough's enough.”

  My bag slipped off my shoulder, hitting the metal with a loud thud.

 “But I…what will I do?” I whispered.

 “You’ll come stay with me like we’ve talked about.”

 “People will come looking for me.”

 “We’ll fake your own death. They’ll think you and your dad died.”

 “What if I want to go out and get coffee or just for a walk or to pick something up?”

 “Then you’ll go with the guards so they can watch and protect you, otherwise, you’ll be with me. You’ll be safe, Paisley.”

I wiped away the remaining tears and looked up at his icy blue eyes with my own. He was watching me, reading everything he could off my face to see if I’d agree or not. How could I say no? He’d always taken care of me before, he listened and didn’t act when he discovered my dad was beating me or that he wanted to take me out of Gotham. Mister J had never given me a reason to distrust him, even his anger and the way he acted sometimes didn’t scare me because he didn’t take his anger out on me. In fact, he treated me like a princess all the time.

  I reached out and took the hand that wasn’t grabbing onto me. It was covered in tattoos and thick calluses. I led him back to where we had been sitting and pulled him down beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder and sighed. Our outer thighs touched and I kept our hands entwined with one another.

   “Okay,” I said, “I’ll come stay with you. But I swear to God, if you ever lay your hands on me the way he did…”

  No more words left my mouth as Mister J burst into laughter, the sound stretching across the room creating an echo.

  “I’m serious,” I protested.

 “I know,” he laughed, “that’s what makes it hilarious because you think I’d stoop so low as to hit someone as pretty as you.”

  “You’re so unlike yourself when you’re around me.” A giggle left my own lips.

 “Is that so?” He hummed.

I nodded.

And it was true too. Everyone knew how the Joker really was to people; he was a ruthless killer who had no problem manipulating his way out of any situation so he could get what he wanted. But that had never been the case with me; he had approached me, he asked me to be with him, and he continued to see me afterwards without asking for anything besides my loyalty. I didn’t even have to get him out of Arkham when he wound up in there, I just had to promise to come see him on the days I visited my mom and had to be with him once he got out. It was like our relationship was purely based on a need for someone to love him because he didn’t have that anymore. How he ended up falling in love with me was still a mystery but I knew how I fell in love with him. And I didn’t regret being in love with him. If Mister J swore he was going to take care of me and treat me the way I deserved to be treated, then I didn’t mind the darker side of him.

   “Paisley,” Mister J called out.

  I looked up at him and hummed in acknowledgment.

   “I love you.”

  It was the first time he had ever said that to me before. I smiled, nibbling on my bottom lip as I felt happiness erupt inside me.

  “I love you too, Mister J.”

  He climbed to his feet and held out his hand. I didn’t hesitate to take it and he easily pulled me off the metal platform. Not another word was spoken between the two of us as we left the abandoned building. And for the first time in a long time, I knew I was going to be able to sleep peacefully without the fear of being woken in the middle of the night to be punished.

 It was refreshing.

Taglist: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck @leaveitbythewave @ellatitanium @gaymistakeboi @erika-solic @weepingwitchofthewest

[sanemisstalker]

As much as I sexualize and objectify him, I just know Sanemi would be so incredibly difficult to get into bed with. For good reason.

CW/ SEVERE Angst/ am.... am i depressed? Maybe, lol/ Discussion of CA / DV / Men's Mental Health / Sanemi is afraid of his dead dad / MANGA SPOILERS/ Panic Attack / ANXIETY / SH - Just general no good times as a result of Sanemi intentionally isolating.

This isn't headcanons or anything, I've just had my fair share of Sanemi run ins in my life, and I know He'd be afraid of you.

Afraid of himself and being just like his dad. He looks just like the bastard. If he didn't have the white hair, it'd be identical. He has those thousand yard stare eyes, and that big, imposing frame. After his mothers death, I just know he starred at that thing for days. Watching it fester and scar... it was easier before that one came in, to separate his face from his fathers- What an ugly gash.

And he was just like his dad, to Genya, at least. He wanted more than anything for Genya to just be happy, and he knew the stupid boy was doing it all for him. To earn his big brother's love that Sanemi had been intentionally depriving him of. And it sickened Sanemi.

He had to make it painfully clear to Genya every step of the way that nothing he did, no matter the triumph, no matter how proud Sanemi was- was ever going to make Sanemi snap and just say it.

Genya was too good to be good enough. Sanemi thanked his father, briefly, for that trait about himself. Sanemi turned everything off the day his mother died. Everything except for his dad.

Genya did not deserve a tie to the woeful underbelly of the world. Those silly things Genya said after Sanemi killed their mother were Sanemi's saving grace. He never would've been brave enough to start removing himself from Genya's life if Genya hadn't believed he opened the door.

It's why he tried to take his eyes when he found out Genya had been eating demons- Genya was a man he just couldn't protect anymore, because Sanemi kept tabs and he hadn't known that about Genya for a while, now.

It was all so... scary, Sanemi struggled to even think about it sometimes. Anytime he would a pit would grow in his stomach. Anytime he thought about snapping and reconciling with his brother, telling him how proud he was- that pit would be right back. It was like he was starving.

And God, when he meets someone he loves it stings. It stings because Sanemi was always the one walking the others out of the house when dad got bad. It stings because he knows exactly what that bastard did to his mom- he knew the movements intrinsically, and that's all he knew how to do to those fly away demons he'd been slaughtering for months as a teenager.

Back when he could still resceitate a smidge of his empathy for the things. He just started imagining them as his dad.

Because the pathetic piece of shit died before Sanemi could get penance. Kyogo should've been alive for Sanemi to kill, to get big and strong, and beat his father down into submission like Kyogo had been beating him, his mother, and his siblings down for years...

He should've been alive to do the bare minimum and protect his wife- to have fallen to slaughter in her stead. Because there should've been a bigger man in the house- To not only protect Shizu, but to protect Sanemi... but there just wasn't.

The love stings because every time he's reminded of how weak he is.

He loved Kumeno. With everything in his body, he knew he loved Kumeno. He wouldn't dare say a word. He had such a soft smile, Sanemi felt yet another drop of color fade from his vision as he watched Kumeno's smile fade away.

God, he loved Kanae more than he hated the world. He knew it radiated off of him when she entered a room- Because she treated him so softly. The news had shaken him for weeks. He doesn't even quite recall where he went or what he did.

He was greedy to want anything when he wore that uniform and wielded that blade. The first time in a long time he bothered to try and love, the world reminded Sanemi of his place.

And good for it, too, He'd figure. He would've beat Kanae, he bet. Would've reduced such a kind and caring woman to a sniveling dog beneath his fists.

It was better, that God took her away. She was safer from him dead.

His thoughts are never this formulated. They're thicker with self-bashing and the like. He can't bare to look at his face, only his torso- He crafted that himself, his dad was never this strong.

I know if he likes you, you'd just never know. It'd be like pulling teeth, but somehow worse. He doesn't sleep with anyone because that's disrespectful. No woman is an object to be used once, maybe seven times, and then cast off to deal with the brunt of it.

I'm sure beating up the Kakushi that made Mitsuri's uniform was more than cathartic for him.

I'm sure, if you manage to get through to him inspite all of this, he'd be afraid to touch you. He yanks his hand away, and never initiates kissing, even though it's all he wants to do.

He cries when he loses his virginity because fuck, god is going to yank you away. and he knows he can't do anything about it because he messed up and weak. He got so close to you, and god is going to smite you for it.

He's never the one that bares the runt of his sins.

He can't finish. He has a panic attack, it's visceral, and terrifying, he cant even manage to cry. It takes every bone in his body not to lash out screaming, breaking, and destroying while you cradle him against your chest, because God, fuck, he's a mess.

It would take him months to even consider it again. He begs you to leave him and find a man that can treat you better, because it just isn't him-

And it hurts because you see how strong he is to just be alive everyday. Sanemi has never been strong, though. And he doubts he will ever be strong enough to love you correctly-

It's not like him to quit, though.

God I might part 2 this, he's such a little fucker lmao.

[sir-gio22]

TRAIN WITH ME ~Ben Shelton

Part 1

Ben shelton x reader

Prompt: you are a tennis player and your father trains you, too much. One day you faint and after you and ben happen to see each other.

Warnings: abuse, overtraining, fainting, mentions of hospitals

You're supposed to be the N1

You're supposed to be a rising star

You're supposed to be in the top 10

You're supposed to train bett

You're supposed to have a perfect technique

You're supposed to win every match, every point

You're supposed to serve better, to never double fault

You are a failure

A failur

A failu

A fail

A fai

A fa

A f

A

These are your thought, slowly fading away as you faint, on the cold floor of the hotel gym. After training for five hours in a row with your dad.

Those thoughts. They were the words your father say to you, every god damn day of your life.

Five hours ago, he dragged you away from the food you were eating, you didn't deserve it, he said. You only need to train, train, and train.

He made you run for three hours, only taking two little breaks, that was more than enough, your father said.

It's 6pm, he went to book a court for two hours for you to train after ‘dinner’, which he won't let you eat.

I will introduce yourself, if you let me. You are the child of a ex-pro player, your father was, twenty years ago, a slam champion and the n1 in the world.

When you were born, he didn't wanted a child. He wanted a prodigy. A pro student and player.

Your family, being rich, always made teacher come to your house to teach you, homeschooling you for years. The only time you would socialize where when your father would take you to elegant events about tennis or introduce you to other rich people. They usually were all adults, and the kids you would befriend in those nights were all spoiled and already acting like adults. They had the latests phones and clothes, they had perfect grades and everything they wanted, you, on the other side, had the things you needed to live when you deserved them. If you didn't train your father won't feed you or make you sleep in the cold and old basement.

At four years old, you were already winning kid tournaments, at 10 you won the national under 10 tournament, at 12 the under 12 one, at 14 the under 14 one, and at 15 your father made you play qualifying in the us open, you played small tournaments before in other countries, some 250 or 500 and a challenger 1000, but never a slam.

That week you won three rounds, but you got another qualifier prodigy at the fourth, which you lost to.

And your father let's say…he wasn't happy. The opposite. He was in the stands when you lost, your opponent celebrating, you shook hands and saw your fathers glare. You knew what was coming. And it was terrible.

That night you got beaten by him. And hard. You still have those scars, and you slept in the basement.

But what does you mom do to your father treating you like shit? Nothing.

She can't do anything. She's dead. A disease, the doctors says.

The truth?

Your father poisoned her slowly, it made her develop a disease. And the doctors? Corrupted by him.

Let's get back to the current time.

When your father left you sat on the floor of the empty gym, your father paid the hotel to have it exclusively for you when you wanted (when he did, just to specify, you had no word on this).

Your heart beating fast, too fast. It feels like it'll explode any second. Your ears were ringing, your vision blurry, your whole body not just sore, but exhausted by the excessive training.

You fainted.

Two hours later, getting shoken by someone made you regain consciousness. It was you father calling you to train.

In the two hours he left you were supposed to get back to your hotel room and study, and he's already mad because you're still in the gym.

“Were you sleeping, huh? Don't lie! I told you you had to study! What were you doing?! Resting? You don't need that!” He slapped you. Your left cheek reddening.

He made you get up and pushed you outside, then to the tennis courts.

You had to train with the strength you didn't had, the only this you looked towards every day was sleep.

You entered the court, there were hard courts divided by two benches and a umpire seat.

You didn't think that any other player would be playing in those courts, since usually your father books a secluded one where there's just you two training, because he has the habit to yell at you when you make mistakes.

But you see a young player in the second court, you recognize him, *Ben Shelton*, you never actually look at others players or chat with them, but sometimes Ben came to you to chat since you started playing professionally.

You wave at him, hoping he won't notice the eyebags under your eyes and the state you're in. More on the other side than on earth.

Ben was training with his father and coach, Bryan, having a parent as a coach isn't a pleasant thing, for you. But Ben seems to love being coached by Bryan. Well, can't blame him, Bryan's a sweet man, not an abuser.

You place your bag on the bench near the one where put his. You father was still at the gate, chatting with another coach, while Ben and Bryan came to you.

“hey! Long time no see, huh? Been some months since we talked, I wonder why you never get seen anywhere other than tennis courts. Anyway, how's it going?” Ben says

“Hey, nice to see you again ben! I'm alright, a bit tired, my old man's killing me. But don't tell him I'm complaining” you joke, still by telling a truth.

“Mine isn't taking back either, I feel like dying every practice ahah”

“That's not true, ben, I train you the right amount. Not too much, like their father does. Are you sure you're not training too much, bud?” Bryan chimes in.

You're eyes widen the much they can because you're so tired to actually make a shocked expression, what do you reply to that? You could tell the truth, ben was the closest thing you had to a friend after all, or you could lie, and if they believed you you'll probably faint again and go to the hospital.

You stay silent for a moment, their eyes locked on your face, concerned and worried about you.

What will happen? Find out in part 2!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this at school so it might not be that good, but let me know what you think! Should I continue this?? I already have the part two in mind but no spoilers🤭

[phddyke]

Currently there’s a lot of discussion going on about whether or not Alastor was sincere in saying Charlie was like a daughter to him, and also why he disliked Lucifer—since many people pointed out his eye twitched and he’s annoyed from the moment he showed up, NOT from the moment Lucifer said he hadn’t heard of him or expressed surprise about the bar he (Alastor) made.

I see there are theories floating around about him disliking Lucifer because of Lilith, and while that is certainly possible, I see people are also discussing the possibility that Alastor had an abusive father while he was alive, as it would explain a lot of his behavior.

If that’s the case, then that might have been where his immediate suspicion and dislike of Lucifer came from. He knows that Lucifer is somewhat of a “dead-beat Dad” (although we all now know that’s because of his depression and he does love his daughter a lot), so when he hears that he’s coming to the hotel, he’s annoyed about that. What, he magically wants to be a part of Charlie’s life now? He’s partially projecting about his own issues with his father, but he’s also thinking, “Well, Charlie deserves better than that. I’ll remind her that I’m here as a surrogate father figure and she has her own found family. She doesn’t have to deal with this sub-par treatment from her Dad even if he is Lucifer. In fact, I’ll step up to act as her father just like I wish someone had done for me.” He may also be annoyed that Lucifer can come waltzing in after doing nothing when he, as he pointed out, has been here since Day 1—and yet it’s Lucifer who they all have to work to impress, who still gets the recognition of “Dad.” The lyric “Sadly there are times the birth parent is a dud” also makes me think he’s speaking from his own experience, but it can’t be his Mom because Vivzie said he’s a mama’s boy (and you can kinda tell that from the pilot).

Also explains why he didn’t interfere during their “More Than Anything” song. People theorized he was trying to goad Lucifer into helping Charlie, and while that may be true, if this has something to do with his own father issues, then seeing Lucifer’s genuine love, care, and support for Charlie made him happy. He doesn’t need to interfere because he sees that Lucifer is trying and he’s treating her well, and that’s all he wants. It’s not like his father at all.

[stainedglasspanes]

Watching Ina11 (Ep 60 - 67)

Will there ever be good father figures in this series. Preferably not dead. Please. Someone needs to be happy.

Ep 60-61

Ep 62

Ep 63

Ep 64-65

Ep 66/67 (Recap so,,)

If I don't see any of them next season I will weep.

-----------

Season 2 finished!

Yippie aliens but also not aliens,, pspspsps I’ll take you away from that sorry excuse of a father figure pspsps

I have many feelings towards Seijirou that can’t be voiced but oh god this man deserved to get hit by Ulvida’s kick. Essentially manipulating a bunch of orphaned children to become soccer super soldiers is so wrong on so many levels. Pitting them against each other and give them ranks, sure that’s not gonna fuck up their self esteem and create a poisonous hierarchy.

Grief-stricken yes I get but dude?? Then going to adopt a boy that looks just like your dead son? Gosh I can’t even imagine what was hitomiko’s reaction to seeing this little boy was..

On the topic of Hiroto, whoo boy. I spent the remaining episodes just pissed off at Seijirou for being a piss poor dad. Hiroto is obviously very attached to him, but I gotta wonder if the love the old man showed him was just any misplaced fatherly love towards the image of his dead son he very obviously projected onto the kid. How tf did he treat Hitomiko? Dad is on your side until you voice your opinion, Hiroto you deserve a better father figure. All of Aliea deserves a parental figure that cared for them instead of seeing them as potential wells.

Fubuki recovered, which is good, but I feel like it was so rushed? Or is it better to say, wasted potential? The way Atsuya was treated as a sort of separate ‘persona’ that would disperse when Fubuki stabilized. I get that maybe they expected him to share on his own but look at him, all clammed up and frozen. If anything, the team not doing anything further added to the issue. It took the combined efforts of Someoka, Aphrodi and Gouenji to get to him, and 2 are hospitalized now. The way Gouenji worked with him is also kinda erm,, lowkey beating it out of him was a,, choice.

Kazemaru sweetie I beg of you keep the hair down for a little longer. But I also get where he was getting, Kazemaru joined soccer only to constantly suffer www (鬱丸 I now get). It’s a tad interesting that Kazemaru leaving, would be the tip off point for Endou. Bro was DEPRESSED. Gouenji, Someoka, Fubuki's whole breakdown, nothing phased this boy but oh suddenly Kazemaru leaving nearly sucked his soul out. But the ending didn’t really fix the issue?? How can you be sure that he won’t fall down a depression spiral bc inadequacy/being unable to keep up haunts him again,, or is that curse passed onto a different character now

Anyways having the World Cup (?) as the next arc is ???? I thought yall were the strongest team on Earth,, I saw my fuckass cat Fudou in the preview heehoo

[ya-what--ya-erster]

Jealous, Oblivious, Text Me Tomorrow

Have some pre-relationship Javey

***

Jack Kelly's favorite activity, by far, is stealing Davey's clothes. Specifically the sweatshirts, though, because Davey always managed to keep them soft, no matter how many times they were ran through the dryer.

Jack enjoys Davey's sweatshirts, and it's easy to take them, so he does.

Davey doesn't really mean it when he objects.

This time it was different, though.

"I believe that's mine." Davey said, entering their dorm one evening after a date.

"Oh, here." Jack peeled off the sweatshirt and handed it to Davey. Davey blinked in surprise. Jack never complied like that.

"I didn't mean you had to take it off, you know?"

"Uh-huh."

Davey paused. What was up with him?

"Do you want to put it back on?"

"Nah, it's alright. Better save it for Kyle."

"Who?"

"Your date? That you just got back from, by the way."

"Oh, Kyler? No, he had his own jacket, he wouldn't need this."

Jack laughed a strained laugh.

"You don't get it, do you Dave?"

Davey looked confused, and it tore Jack apart. He buried his face in the couch, groaning in agony.

"I don't, not really." Davey said. "I mean, why would he need this? you're the only person I know that wears like six layers of sweatshirts."

Jack sighed.

He could be fine with this.

"Sorry, I just- come tell me about the date?"

Davey's eyes did not light up as he smiled and said, "Okay." Which gave Jack hope but also worried him immensely.

"So, how'd it go?"

"It was alright."

"Any fascinating details to share?"

"No, no. Nothing happened."

"Asshole didn't even send you off with a goodnight kiss?" Jack was glowing inside.

"No, uh. He said, he said he had a good time, but he couldn't see himself with me, and he wants to be friends."

"Oh, that's rude."

"A little, but I don't mind." Davey shrugged.

"Well, you deserve better if that's what he's like."

Davey made eye contact with Jack, uncertain. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he seems like a little bitch and I think you deserve better."

"You sound like a jealous boyfriend right now."

Jack could not do this. He could not, he could not, hecouldnothecouldnothecouldnothecould-

"What if I want to be?"

"What, jealous?"

"No! I would kill the jealousy dead if I could. What if I wanted to be your boyfriend!?"

"You don't, so..."

"Oh, says who?" Jack was on the verge of yelling now.

"SAYS YOU!" Davey was yelling. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't have gone out tonight if-"

"Whoa, whoa, when did I say that? I don't think I ever fuckin' said that."

"Like, Tuesday! You were on the phone with someone and-"

It all came flooding back to Jack. His father was on the phone. From prison. He had wanted to speak to Jack. Jack talked about Davey a lot, and his father finally stopped him, saying "You aren't dating him, are you?" In a deeply disapproving tone. Jack had replied as quickly as possible.

"You said, "Davey? Oh, no, I could never date Davey, he ain't my type." Davey finished off with a bad impression of Jack.

"It was my dad! I couldn't tell him the truth, he would have... he woulda broke out just to beat my ass. Davey, I'm so gone for you I can't even think."

"You're lying."

"Shut the fuck up. You don't know anything. You don't know the way it's been eating at me all night that you wasn't on a date with me! It should be me!"

"I wouldn't have even gone on the date in the first place if I hadn't heard you saying that!"

"Blame me!"

"Well, do you blame me? For feeling like I didn't even have a chance?"

Jack didn't want to yell anymore.

"Do I still have a chance with you?" He asked softly as Davey was retreating into his bedroom. Davey just shut his bedroom door.

Jack, on the verge of tears, received a message from Davey a moment later:

ask me tomorrow when I'm not pissed at you