#i swear i didn't dream this up but i can't find it on any jason todd reading lists

[littledead-ridinghood]

okay i've failed at finding this myself so I'm releasing this upon y'alls to turn over:

do any of you know that comic where batman is fighting his way through the dead and, at some point, Dead Jaybin appears to help him fight his way through the swarm? It's not Batman: demon (1996) nor is it Batman: The Cult. It was released after Jason's murder and pre-resurrection (?). It sticks in my mind because Jason's character wasn't dragged through the mud like it often was post-death. I swear I'm going insane because I can't find it. The art style was vaguely similar to The Cult though, if my memory is serving my correctly.

Bruce may have been riding the high of fear gas or have been trapped in a nightmare of some sort. I remember Jason waving good-bye to Bruce at the end.

best of luck o7 and if any of you know what I'm talking about & report back, I'll love you 5ever <3

EDIT: found! Batman: Gotham County Line

I highly recommend. Thank you everyone for your help!

[neutralvibe]

Empty space

Jason todd meets Death before being resurrected.

Warnings: gore, blood, angst, fear. Happy ending, I swear.

He awakens frightening, grabbing furiously at his body in panic, trying to find himself.

He can't hear anything...yet... there's this ringing sound that seems to echo all around him... like a laughter...a maniac laughter.

He opens and closes his eyes while gasping and choking for air. Every time he opens his eyes, he sees his face... that smile... that inhumane smile. He squint his eyes shut, bracing his ears with both hands before yelling and begging over and over for Him to go away.

He could feel his broken ribs at every breath he took. Panicked, he looked down at his destroyed robin suit, looking for band-aid in his belt when he noticed his body twisted in a way that would hunt his dreams. His bones were popped out of his skin. The deep carving of the knives were painting his suit in a deeper red with his own blood. The ripped skin tissue and tendons were making him gag. He sat on a small puddle of his own blood. He stared at his body for a few seconds, blank, before the dull pain suddenly shots through his body.

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He screams.

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He screams in agony.

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He screams even when his voice cracks

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He screams even when there's no sound coming out of his mouth anymore.

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He falls silent on the floor. Quietly suffering. Sobs echoes in the void.

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He warped his bleeding arms around himself, clutching and gripping at his suit in a desperate attempt for comfort. His shoulder would jerk up every time he sobbed. He let his head fall to the floor until his forehead hit the floor.

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Tears run down his cheeks.

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The sound of his pain echoes

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Until the only sound remaining is his sharp breathing in the void.

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"Hello?" An echo reaches his ears.

He gasps harshly as he abruptly looks up. He sees nothing. Just now, he realizes he doesn't really know where he is.

There's mountains ahead of him, but they are strange. They look like they were made from black ink or some sort of waterpainting? It's beautiful yet strange.

The floor beneath him is completely white with small black dots like stars within it. It looks like a reverse night sky.

Not so far from him, he sees flowers. But they don't have any colors in them they look just like the mountains, water- ink-ich. They don't move. He just now noticed that there's no sun nor moon. There's no wind.

Where was he?

He clearly wasn't in that dark and twisted place with them...with him.

"Hello?" He jumped a little, that echo again. It sounds so close, but there's nothing around him. He was alone.

"Oh," it echoes. It's... pleasant, soft. Like rain. He missed rain.

"I didn't notice you were here, apologies." It's not an echo but a voice. He looked around, slightly unnerved. There's a voice speaking, but he was alone.

Until he sees a bright silhouette in the distance, slowly shaping itself more clearly as it approaches him.

He can feel his heart accelerating at every step they take. He started to back away from them. Leaving a trail of blood as he crawled away.

What do they want from him?

We're they going to hurt him like they did?

We're they going to torture and torment him like he did, too?

He doesn't want to find out.

No.

He crawls away while moaning in pain, tears running down his cheeks as he whines like a dying animal in the middle of the road, abandoned and left at the mercy of the cars. He doesn't look back. No, he doesn't want to look at the light that will end him.

He crawls until he can't no more. Exhausted and tired, he cries in pain.

He waits.

He waits for them to finish the job.

To finish what he started.

Breathing heavily, he lay there. But after a few minutes of silence. Nothing happened. We're they waiting for him to look at them? Did they want him to see who would take his life? The silence still remains. No, he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing his tears. They can go to hell.

Still, nothing happens.

His curiosity is edging him to look behind him. To see what is happening. But he pushed the thought away like it was fire.

Nothing.

Even after minutes that have passed, still nothing.

He takes a chance and looks behind him.

To see a woman staring at him with a gentle gaze.

Jason was pretty sure she was the incarnation of the sun with how bright she glowed. Her hair was snow-white. She had bandages wrapped around her eyes and hands. Her dress looked like waves of clouds when there's a strong wind pushing them into beautiful curly lines.

She had stopped a feet away from the small puddle he created earlier. She bowed slightly at him. "Greetings, young one."

He shallowed down his saliva before cautiously turning his body towards her.

"I hope you were not waiting for long." Her voice echoes softly in the void. It's nice, calming. Like a mother wishing goodnight to her child after a bedtime story.

"What is your name, my child?" She asked him softly.

He eyed her suspiciously. His mouth moves into a thine line as he stares back.

Noticing he wasn't going to answer, she smiled gently. "May I sit with you?" She asks while gently pointing beneath herself with her hand.

After a few seconds of hesitation, he slowly and painfully nodded at her.

She bowed once more while mumbling a 'thank you' before lowering herself to the ground. Sitting crossed legs.

A moment of silence passes between the two as they both stare at each other. One of curiosity and one of patience. Finally, she breaks the silence.

"You seem to be hurt, young one. Would you like help with your injuries?" At the request, jason feels his eyes water again. They want to help? Or their just trying to get him to let down his guard so they can hurt him?

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it right away. He hesitated. What if, just maybe, they do wanna help? It hurts so bad...

No.

She's going to hurt him in some way, that's for sure. Like the bat, how he left him for dead or how that maniac destroyed his body and sanity.

Rage ran through his body at the thought of the bat. He left. He abandoned him in that place with all of them. He left him for dead.

He clenched his jaw close as he closed his fits, almost drawing blood with the pressure he was putting on his skin. He glared darkly at the ground, lost in his own anger.

He didn't notice the woman had gotten up and walked towards him until he felt warmth on his back.

Then his gazed snapped to the woman that was now kneeling beside him, her hand on his back and the other slowly going towards his chest.

He should push her away, yell at her to get away from him. But he doesn't. It's like his mind can't think of anything when her hand lands on his chest and a warmth blooms in his body.

This feels nice...

He remembers when his mother used to hold him during cold nights when he was younger. It was warm and safe. Just like this. Tears roll down his face at the memory.

God, he misses his mom.

More tears fall as he sobs at the warm memories he suddenly remembers. He remembers Alfred showing him a book, his favorite now. When Alfred prepared tea every time him and dick came back together after a snock out. He remembers the video games nights he had with dick after a particular rough day.

With the overwhelming feeling of loss, He couldn't help but reach for the strange woman. He wrapped his broken arms around her form into a desperate hug as he cried, burying his face in her neck as he sobs and gasps for air. Holding on to her like she would keep the shadows and the cold away from him as long that she stayed by his side.

She hugged him back, sending warmth all over his body. She caressed the back of his head and rubbed his back gently while whispering that everything will be all right.

That he is safe.

He slowly realized that his body doesn't hurt as much as it did. He pulled away from her to look down at his body. He was no longer bleeding, and the trail of blood that he made, as well as the small puddle, had turned into the same flowers he noticed earlier. Gentle and small flowers.

His body was no longer broken or dislocated it was strong and powerful. He felt like a new person. He closed his eyes to feel his mighty heartbeat. It was strong and alive like a drum on the battlefield, strong and constant.

He was alive.

"My child." He opened his eyes again to look at the woman beside him who smiled.

"Jason." his voice was loud and strong. It was completely different from earlier. It sounded like he could move masses by just talking. "My name is Jason."

She smiled brighter. She was proud of him. He could see it in her body language. She was proud and happy. She reaches for him once again.

"Jason... my sweet little bird." She said gently while caressing his face like a mother would to her child. "Your time has not come, yet." She slowly took off his robin mask off of his face and placed it on the flowers beneath them, revealing his beautiful deep blue eyes. "They still need you. Your family needs you."

Jason suddenly has a flash in his mind. There was a 'S' like Superman symbole and a plushie? Of Superman? He sees hair? Red/ orange hair in a high-ponytail? And an arrow, a red one. As quick as it came, it vanished. He blinks a few times. What the hell do those things mean?

The ground suddenly starts to shake before it slowly starts to glow a deep green emerald.

What is happening?

He looked around himself when he noticed the mountains fading away in the green. The flowers turn into greenish colors. He looks back at the woman to see her smile sadly at him. "It's time..." she simply said before putting one last time her hand on his cheek, where she heals a rather deep scar.

Jason reaches for her hand to hold on to it. Scared of what will happen next.

"It will be okay, Jason. Do not be afraid of the future." He frowns, confused at her words. As the world around them crumbles into green. "Even if you don't remember... just know it will be okay." She continues as she reaches up to kiss the top of his head, causing a streak of his hair to turn white. "You will be okay." She looks straight into his deep eyes and smiles reassuringly before everything fades to green.

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"Everything will be okay." It echoes...

[cherryinsalemverse]

Batmom!Reader x Batfam

Summary: It is a fic inspired by that one youtube playlist. Wordcount: 1136 Warnings: I do NOT own anything in this fic! The characters nor the playlist! But please check the playlist it is awesome! Also this is my first fic and English is not my mother tongue. I'm sorry for every grammar mistake I made. Please enjoy.

 You wanted to believe that it was a joke. You wanted to believe that he made it in time. That Jason was still alive. You wanted to, with every cell in your body. Yet you knew. Bruce would never lie to you. He would never make a joke that would hurt you. 

The news crushed your heart into million pieces, it crushed your life apart too. At first, you were angry at yourself. You knew the second Jason was the new Robin. You knew you should have prevented it. Instead of helping him to be a better fighter to protect himself, you should have protected him from his choices. He was just a kid. Your kid. With or without blood.

You loved Jason as much as you loved Dick. Definitely more than yourself and maybe more than Bruce too. And it saddened you the moment he told you, you were not his 'mom'. You knew it was the heat of the argument. You both got louder and louder and being stubborn none of you took a step back. He screamed.

"You can't just try to push yourself into my life! I fucking hate you! Stay away from me, you're not even my mom for fucks sake. You're just a pretend, playing house with Bruce!"

If you checked on him that night -when he left home- if you reached out to him instead of drowning in your own pain maybe you wouldn't be burning in a much stronger sorrow now. Because damn it hurt, it hurt you so much what he said to you. You tried to let it pass. 'He is a kid, he doesn't mean it.' But it didn't pass, it didn't get better. It only got worse the more time passed. His last words were ringing in your ears.

 His leaving was like a knife through your chest. You knew you would never feel better till you find him. You told yourself that you would talk with him and let him go if he still wouldn't want to be your boy. Your sweet boy. As long as he was safe, you would accept anything. But the knife through your chest only went deeper with time and pierced your heart when you learned he was long gone.

Time would heal any wound they said. Your wound only bled more. Dick was there for you. And Tim after him. Bruce was distancing himself. You couldn't help him then. Couldn't find the words in you to take him out of his guilt. No. Because once you got out of blaming yourself, you blamed him. It was his idea in the first place to take children to fight. It was him who couldn't protect your little angel. It was him who couldn't find him in time, get to him in time. Let him die and perish in the hands of a criminal who got away with way too much death. And it drove you nuts when he didn't avenge your son. How could he, let the man loose and alive after all that happened.

At last, you blamed the man himself. The clown that haunted your dreams. The Joker. That bastard was the real one you should blame. And you did indeed. You swear on your life that you would take down him even if you had to go down as well. You were not one to break her promises. 

Parting your way from Bruce, you suit up as the Scarlet. Lady Death, The Rednight. You didn't care about others than the Joker. As long as they were not connected you made alliances with the rest of the villains even. You needed resources of income and intel since Bruce was onto your back. At every chance, you got a hold of Joker he was there to save him from you. But you made it after much spent time. Learned from your mistakes and got yourself a chance to keep your promise. You tracked the bastard once he was out of Arkham. 

"Did you miss me mama bird?" said Joker once you took off the sack on his head. His hands were tied at his sides open. Bones were broken on both of his arms as well as his kneecaps. You didn't want to kill him just yet, he didn't deserve a peaceful death. No. Just like the video he sent, he was gonna be broken down in every way possible. Yet he was laughing. You placed your gun in his mouth not caring to answer. He was seeing this as a play. You were not.

The window of the warehouse broke down when Bruce came in, in his Batman costume. You didn't flinch, way too used to his schemes. You took out your other gun and pointed at him.

"Scarlet, drop your guns." his tone was like steel. "Be reasonable, killing him won't change anything." You bent your head to the side slightly.

"You have no idea just how reasonable I've been," you said. "He took my boy and if you can't take him out, Batman, I can." you opened the safety of the gun which you were pointing at Bruce.

"You don't understand. I don't think you've ever understood." he shook his head taking a step towards you. "You're putting the city in danger, letting those hell creatures loose."

You shot the wall next to him, barely missing one of his arms. "Sending those creatures after her instead of myself was mercy." he stopped midstep. You knew with Bruce's protection Harley was safe. For now. "And despite your hypocrisies and insults, I begged you to safely get out of my way." 

You turned your head to the Joker, ready to pull the trigger.

"No! God almighty. No. It'd be too damned easy." Bruce called out to you. 

"All I ever wanted to do was kill him. A day doesn't go by when I don't think about subjecting him to every horrendous torture he has dealt out to others. And then end him."

"Then end him. Let's end this here, tonight. I missed you, I missed my boys." your voice was close to a whisper. 

"But if I do that, if I allow myself to go down in that place I'll never come back." he took another step toward you, hands reached out.

"You've exhausted my patience. But I do hope you understand. And even now what's about to happen." you turned your head sharp to him, your teary eyes glowing with the moonlight with something like madness in them. You shot towards his leg. Bruces dodged the bullet with a somersault. Now being much closer to you.

"I won't miss one more time." you took your other gun out of Joker's mouth. The man started to giggle. 

" This is me being reasonable." you pulled the trigger.

[morganwrites12672]

hi <3

would it be crazy to ask for a fem reader going to max for comfort while having a panic attack? 🤭 i'm a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes 🚶

Your wish is my command!

Feel free to request more, I am on Thanksgiving break!

But I am warning you, any angst WILL be given a happy ending....

Max Mayfield x Reader

You couldn't breath. You try to take a deep breath, it doesn't work. You couldn't stop thinking about it.

The sunset would have been pretty to most people, the way it was more red then orange. You swear you see pieces of the Creel House in the clouds.

The haunting shales reminded you of your time spent with him. Vecna.

It hits to close to home. Last year, Max almost didn't make it out from Vecna's spell. You had helped Lucas deal with Jason, and quickly slipped on Max's walkman. She was fine.

You weren't. He had taken you. But he didn't show you your fears he had anticipated. He had shown you max dying over, and over, and over again. And you couldn't stop it no matter what.

By some miracle everyone made it out alive. Not without scars littering their bodies. Night terrors haunting their dreams.

You try to think of the fact that Max is two trailers down, doing her homework. Safe. She is safe, she has to be.

You can't help it. Your heart is racing and your chest keeps tightening. You notice the lack of oxygen.

You can't do this alone. You get off the couch and carelessly slip on a pair of sandals before blowing to Max's trailer.

you knock and can barely hear it or Max open the door over your racing heart. Max sees the tears streaming down your face and pulls you into a hug and helps bring you to the couch.

She pulls you half into her lap. She is holding you so tight there is not doubt. Max is safe, and she always was. You feel stupid for having been so scared.

"You're okay, baby," Your girlfriend whispers as she pushes some hair out of your face. You look up at her and still are barely heaving out breaths.

"Tell me something you can feel, five of them," she says. She holds you tighter as you try to feel something other than the weight on your chest.

"Your shirt, it's soft," you mumble as your hand fists im her shirt, "Your hair, it's silky," you continue as you run a hand through her hair. "You, you're safe," your voice is barely a whisper as you ghost a hand across her cheek, "Your jacket is rough but soft. The couch is rough," you finish running your fingers over the couch and her jacket.

"Good job my love. Four things you see," she always did them in random. Never I'm the correct order, she said it helped her and if you wanted it normal she could. You never did. You liked having to think about what you would have to find next.

"You," you cup your hand on her cheek and look into her eyes, "the table," you point to the coffee table a few feet away. Your heart was still racing. Your chest was still tight, but the tears had stopped. You could almost breath.

"The floor, and the record player," you finished as your breathing slowed. Max smiles and squeezes your hand. She slowly gets up and starts the record player.

'If only I could, I'd make a deal with god. Get him to swap our places'

Kate Bush. 'Running up That Hill' had been the two of yours dedicated comfort song for years. The sound of the music fills the trailer as Max sits down and pulls you in for a hug.

'Be running up that hill'

You hear part of a verse as you rest your forehead on Maxs. She leans in to the embrace as the two of you sit in silence

"I love you and I promise, everytime you come I will be here," she presses a soft kiss on your cheek as she grabs a blanket and pulls you into your lap.

"I love you to red. And I'll always be there, we killed that asshole," you say with a smile before sleep overtakes the two of you.

Max's mom doesn't question it when she comes home to see the young lovers entangled in the other, asleep..she smiles as she sees. Her daughter finally had someone she loved. And that girl loved her to.

[notquitecogent]

look me in the eye (tell me i'm the one)

At long last, I've finished a WIP.

This is another little Hellcheer joint, featuring Jealous & Pining!Eddie. Angsty (angst-ish?), but it's soft at the end because I can't help myself. Author's Note: I don't condone cheating unless it's done to Jason Carver.

(Also any cherry lip gloss and rum-and-coke references are a tribute to @majicmarker.)

If you see any typos no you didn't. Enjoy below or on Ao3.

TITLE: look me in the eye (tell me i'm the one) PAIRING: Eddie x Chrissy (F/M), Stranger Things s4 RATING: Mature WORD COUNT: ~2,400 CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 WARNINGS: Infidelity, swearing, implied sexual content, being riddled with self-doubt

He should get used to it, he thinks, as he takes another deep drag of the Marlboro he’s been nursing for entirely too long out here behind Hawkins’ dingiest bar. 

Inside, away from the freezing October air, the other guys are making the most of the break between sets – and by that he means sinking beers, taking a shit, maybe chatting up the entirely disinterested bartender who’s mixing rum-and-cokes with all the enthusiasm of a substitute teacher with a lobotomy. 

Really, he should be doing the same. But Eddie’s got a lot on his fucking mind right now, okay? He’s busy out here, smoking and- and wallowing, trying desperately to pull himself together, to think his way out of the lead weight that sits in his chest whenever his brain fills up with Chrissy Cunningham – which these days is pretty much every five seconds. 

He’s been – what would Wayne call it? – carryin’ on with her for months now; so many inglorious weeks of sneaking around behind her dipshit boyfriend’s back. Maybe that part should weigh the heaviest on his conscience, but Eddie finds hurting Jason Carver ’s feelings only fills him with a petulant sort of glee, like the big kid in the playground holding a much-loved toy above the little kid’s head. Like shoplifting from the gas station on Chainey Avenue where they always overcharge him for cigs. 

Except it’s not like that, not really, because in the end Chrissy still goes back to Jason; still slips the ugly ’86 class ring back on after she’s done fixing her makeup in the trailer’s tiny bathroom, after she’s finished wiping away their come and their kisses from her pretty pink mouth. 

She still goes home to the mansion in the nice part of town and calls upJase on the family telephone; still whispers and giggles and says,“Good night, baby, sweet dreams,” to someone who is in every possible way not Eddie, smiling as Carver tells her he loves her through the handset when the only thing slicking her lips any more is the cherry lip gloss that makes Eddie a little bit sick with how much he loves it (craves it, wants to lick it off her every second of every day).

He’s spiralling again. The cigarette has burned down to the filter, and Eddie has the uncanny urge to fucking eat it; swallow down the toxic little stub and poison himself just a little bit more than he already is. 

He’s been in this mood for weeks, ever since the Homecoming game when he’d had to watch Hawkins High’s King and Queen reach their absolute peak All-American-Dreaminess. The Tigers had won, of course, but Eddie wasn’t there to see it. He’d lasted all of about 20 minutes watching Chrissy’s perky ponytail bouncing around as she cheered her heart out for her golden boy, with his blue eyes and his cover-of-Bop hair and his fucking letterman jacket. 

(Even Henderson had noticed. “You think you’re being subtle, Eddie? You made us fight a clone horde of brainless zombies last week."

“So?” said Eddie insolently.

“They were all named Ja’zon.”)

Fuck, does he have any right to be this bitter? This pathetic? 

He’d made the rules, after all – called the shots. Told her she didn’t owe him anything, didn’t have to pretend this was something it’s not – that they are something they’re not. He wasn’t going to say a fucking word about it to anyone, wasn’t in the business of making her already hard life even harder. 

“Just good things when you’re with me, sweetheart,” he’d said into her hair one day near the start, when she’d looked like she was about to cry from guilt, and he’d cradled her against his chest with soft words and easy promises.“Just good thoughts, ok?” 

He’d kissed her cheek and behind her ear, breathed in her perfume – flowery and sugar-sweet, just like her – and bit his lip so he didn’t cry too. 

God, he was such a fucking martyr. And for what? For the tiny scraps of Chrissy Cunningham’s affection he could snatch whenever she had the time. 

No, that wasn’t fair. 

There was something deeper there, the way she felt about him; he was more than just her shoulder to cry on, more than stress relief or escapism or slumming it or whatever the fuck anyone else would say if they knew. 

Because in between the heady slide of lips and teeth and tongue, in between the hours spent with his fingers or his mouth or his cock between her thighs, after sunset but before dawn, there were these moments. These fragments of her he’d cling onto, when she told him secrets and listened to him ramble on about Scott Ian or Lord of the Rings or a thousand other things that were probably boring her to tears – except she never looked bored, not once. 

(Sort of how he looked when she talked aboutThe Breakfast Club or that brother and sister that won the silver at the Winter Olympics for the first time in, like, 20 years Eddie, it was amazing. Chrissy was obsessed with figure skating, and suddenly Eddie was obsessed with how obsessed Chrissy was with probably the most ridiculous sport he’d ever seen – not that he’d seen all that many sports, but still.) 

So, yeah, she’s never called him baby at 9pm on her parents’ phone, but he knows she likes Pop-Tarts raw instead of toasted (what the fuck), and he knows how she chews the end of her ponytail when she’s deep in thought, and he knows her favourite subject is actually Wood Shop, of all things, because she gets to feel useful, gets to make things. 

Ok, so maybe all of that is surface-level shit; Carver probably knows all of that too. 

But Eddie also knows where to put his tongue to make her come so hard she cries; make her say his name over and over and over as she turns boneless and glowing in his arms – and that’s something Jason’s never had, even if he’s had all of her “I love you”s. 

In fact, what Eddie has is almost better, isn’t it?Almost.

In any case, it’s time to head back inside – he can hear Jeff’s mock-announcer voice over the speaker system: Eddie Munson to the stage please, Eddie Munson – so he crushes the butt under the heel of his Docs and tramps up the stairs past the back room where all their shit is lying on the ground next to a bunch of tapped-out kegs, and that’s what he fucking feels like, actually. Tapped out. 

But duty calls; he can’t let down the five drunks, even if he’s never felt less like whipping out a face-melting solo on Julia. 

Except when he slinks out onto the tiny, sticky stage, it’s not five drunks in the audience – there is a sixth person in the, well, he can’t call it a crowd, but in the room, and she’s never looked more out of place perched on a bar stool next to the Hideout’s usuals, sipping daintily from the straw in her bubbly highball glass. 

Her hair is just this side of strawberry blonde. She’s wearing a cropped pink sweater and a pair of acid-washed jeans and her usual pristine white Reeboks – the undersides of which are almost certainly now coated with god-knows-what from the bar’s sticky floorboards. She looks up at him from under mascaraed lashes and purple eyeshadow, and she winks. 

Chrissy Cunningham is in the building. 

* *

He can barely remember the rest of their set. It’s like his body is possessed – like he’s mainlining electricity as his fingers fly over the fretboard, the blood red pick almost splitting with the force as he strums out the chords. 

He does remember right after they finish; he’s dripping in sweat, and he looks up and Chrissy’s clapping and cheering, beaming up at him like he’s Christmas morning, like he’s birthday cake and the first day of summer and a perfectly rolled joint all at once. 

At least, that’s what it feels like. But maybe she’s just smiling because she’s a smiley sort of girl; maybe she’s just nice, maybe she cares about him just enough not to tear his heart to shreds, and instead she’ll gently fray them with all her niceness until they’re paper thin and useless anyway. (Maybe tearing would have been better. Quicker.)

He lifts Julia over his head and sets her gently on the stand, meets Chrissy’s eye and nods his head toward the back room so she’ll know to meet him there. 

When she almost skips through the door five minutes later, she’s holding a beer, which she hands to him as he grabs his spare T-shirt from his moth-eaten backpack. 

“I thought you might be thirsty,” she half-grins as he takes the cold bottle from her dainty fingers, and her nails have little glittery stars glued to them, because of course they do.

Careful to keep his expression neutral, Eddie just nods, takes a swig, sets the bottle down on the floor as he swaps his sweaty Iron Maiden tour shirt for the homemade one with his demon witch illustration. He had to go all the way to Fort Wayne to get it screen printed, and the store had almost kicked him out when they’d seen the design, looking up at him with burgeoning horror. 

“What are you doing here, Chrissy?” he says (but what he means is, “I can’t keep doing this,” only he doesn’t trust himself to say that, because he’d regret it a second after it leaves his lips – no matter how true it is). 

Chrissy licks her lips as she watches him change, and there’s an odd expression on her face now – the little wrinkle between her brows is back, like she can’t quite figure something out. 

“Are you-” she says, hesitant. 

“Am I what?” he replies, maybe a little sharper than he means, but fuck, he’s in his head now; he can’t stop thinking about her and her stupid boyfriend, the man she’s probably going to marry 18 months from now.

Eddie will spend the next hour or so wrapped in her body, chopping his stupid heart up into tiny little pieces for her to eat at her leisure, and then tomorrow she’ll go and meet Carver for Saturday breakfast and he'll feed her pancakes and kiss her in the sunshine, right in front of everyone, and all the town’s old ladies will smile and coo their approval. Ah, young love, now that takes me back!, they will surely say.

(And it’s not like Eddie’s ever needed the approval of the gossipy, God-fearing townsfolk of Hawkins, Indiana, but maybe, for once, it’d be nice to have it.) 

Chrissy’s face crumples a little in the silence. 

“Are you mad I’m here?” she almost whispers.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “Why would I be mad about that?”

“Was it too much, before? I’m sorry, I’m so embarrassing, I-" She looks like she’s going to cry. “I shouldn’t have come.” 

He turns to look at her properly, and all his resolve splinters. She's really broken up; biting her lip, eyes downcast, like she’s hurt him on purpose or something. 

He can’t help it; he closes the distance between them, folds her up in his arms – god, he probably reeks even with the new shirt – and ducks his head so he can rest his cheek against hers.

“I’m not angry, Chrissy, really – I… Why did you come?” he says softly. 

She sniffles a little. “I-I wanted to see you, I couldn’t wait.” 

“Couldn’t wait for what?” he says, pressing a tiny kiss to the corner of her eye, just brushing his lips there, next to the butterfly wing beat of her eyelashes. He’s cupping the back of her lovely head, and it fits against his palm like it was always meant to rest there.

“I had to tell you,” she says, and there’s a desperate sincerity in her voice.

Oh fuck. 

She’s not… She couldn’t be. They’d been careful; God knows Wayne had given him enough lectures about gettin’ a girl in trouble over the years – had left a pack of Trojans discreetly in Eddie’s bedside drawer the day he turned 16. 

Mentally, he’s already calculating how much gas he’ll need for the drive to Indianapolis, to the clinic with the white doors where he’d taken Shayna, their neighbour on the side that wasn’t the Mayfields', last summer (not like that; she couldn’t tell her dad, and she didn’t have any other friends with a car). 

“Being real cryptic tonight, Cunningham,” he says quietly, heart in his absolute throat. 

Except… Chrissy had looked so happy before now; seemed so excited to tell him. His mind races. Maybe they can work it out? He’ll get a job at the plant with Wayne, play more gigs –paying gigs – on the weekends, save up enough to trade the van for something safer, something with an actual back seat where they can clip in a baby carrier. She can still go to college. If the next few words out of her mouth are what he thinks they’ll be- 

They aren’t. 

“I broke up with Jason,” says Chrissy, and there’s a quiver in her voice, but it doesn’t break.  

Oh shit.

It takes a second to sink in, but then Eddie feels like a fucking firework. He can’t believe it. He must have heard her wrong. He exhales shakily over her skin, presses a kiss underneath her ear. 

“Really?” he whispers, and his lovesick heart is tramping a drumline inside his ribcage, like it’s going to burst out of his chest and climb inside hers instead. 

“Really,” she whispers back, and she tilts her chin to kiss him properly – to press her lips against his, to slide her tongue between and make him even more crazy for her than he already is. 

A blissful moment, then he pulls back, rests their foreheads together. “What does that mean?”

“Huh?” says Chrissy, eyes still glassy. She’s staring at his mouth. 

Eddie sighs again, rubs a thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. 

“Are you going to run away to Chicago now, like we talked about? College girl in the big city… ”

She smiles, kisses his fingertip, and her next words make all his dreams come true. 

“Only if you’ll come with me.”

[crochetotterblog]

My California Girl

Chapter 1: Our Fifth Year

WORD COUNT: 2,511💕

Summary: Max comes home to find it trashed, heavily smelt of alcohol and cigarettes. She sighed, Billy always acts weird around this time of year, December specifically. Back in Cali he met the girl if his dreams, they only started dating for about 4 months until they had to move. Even though he doesn't want anything to do with Max or her friends, but Mike proposes that they should go to California for winter break...

A/N: sorry for not being active as much, working on a request and other stories!

Warning(s): 18+, drinking, swearing, smut, fighting, Jason Carter, talk about abuse, angst, fluff, (let me know if I missed any!)

Billy was lying on top of his bed, staring at the ceiling, beer in hand, cigarette between his lips. His sad records were playing on repeat, this year would mark the full 5th anniversary. The front door opens to reveal Max standing in the doorway with El, she covers her face scrunching her nose to the smell of beer lingering like a dark cloud of dread. 'God what's wrong now?' she asked herself. The two teens walked into the trailer following the beer skeleton trail. The two girls walked down the hall, to the only room with more than one hole in it; it was closed. 'Billy must be home...' she thought, El reading her mind nodded. Max knocked on the door softly, no response, she knocked once again. A faint groan could be heard, overpowered by blasting music. Max opened the door gingerly, poking her head in to see her older step-brother lying on his stomach face down. "Billy?" she asked, he lifted his head slowly to meet her eyes, only for gravity to pull him back down to the bed sheets. "Billy, come on, get over yourself" Max lightly shouted. Billy groaned in rebellion, Max felt sorry for her step-brother. Even though Billy hated Max, and wish she was never in his life, I mean Neil Hargrove did leave his biological mother for Max's mom. The affair had been happening for at least a year before his mother found out and left.

Max sighed, not knowing what to do really. After all, Max knew what had gotten Billy so depressed. "Billy, come on; you can't stay like this; she wouldn't want you to stay sulking around, drinking, and smoking yourself to death." Billy tried to push himself up from his mattress, "S-huuuuut up. N'one caressssss what you's think." Max shook her head, walking out of his room and into the kitchen. "Why is he so unhappy?" El asked, Max, sighed once again, her vision became blurry, and tears trickled out from her eyes. "...Max?" Max didn't answer, her head slumped as her body jerked once before the water gates opened. El put her hand on Max's shoulder in sympathy. El decided not to push Max, but she did radio the gang to ask them questions. "El to base, anyone there?" she asked softly.

"This is base, what's up?" Dustin asked, El smiled softly. "Um, I don't know, but Max is crying because Bill-" She was cut off "Billy what?!" Lucas screamed into his radio. Billy began to not hate Lucas so much, he was upset that his beautiful coffee, mocha-toned girlfriend is still in California without him. The way Lucas acts reminded him too much of her, so he told Max to stay away from him so he wouldn't have to hurt seeing his step-sister happy. Before El could speak to tell Lucas that Billy didn't say or do anything to Max. *click* is all El heard before Lucas went dead. "Oh this isn't good.." El whispered, Dustin agreed on the other side, "I'm going to grab Steve, Robin, and Eddie..." Dustin rushed before his line went dead as well. Not too long after Lucas and Dustin's lines went dead, there was banging on the trailer door, Billy turned up his music, drunkenly singing along to one of his favorite songs. Max sat on the crusty cough, covering her face and whispering to herself, "I'm sorry.." El walked to the door and turned the lock, only to be pushed out of the way but Lucas flinging the door open. He looked around the room and spotted Max on the couch with her hands over her eyes.

Lucas clung to Max. Steve wasn't happy about what they heard from Lucas and Dustin; Lucas oversaturated over the fact that Billy might have put his hands on Max. Steve walked towards the bombing music, clenching his fists. I mean him and Eddie have been caring for these gaggle of kids, Eddie followed Steve, not to help him beat Billy but to stop Steve from getting phsyical. Eddie has been in Billy's position, his mother wasn't like other mothers. His father passed away once he was born; his mother blamed him for his death. Until his mother got caught saying horrible things his Uncle was there to pick him up from that hell hole and to bring him into a calmer and nicer enviorment. Which worked, his uncle accepted him for being gay and was happy for his nephew. Other than that Eddie has been the calmer of the group, not because he smokes pot, but because he doesn't like to fight unless it is needed. "Lovebug, calm down, let's not bring more pain on this guy." Eddie reached out to Steve, trying to slow him down. "Listen," Eddie says pointing to Billy's room. 'Two Birds' by Regina Spektor; everyone went to a still, no one said a word. All that could be heard was Billy, drunkenly singing along to this slow sad song; "Two birrds on a wiiiiiiiiiiiire..." beer cans and bottles clank together as he moved around his room. A dark cloud flew over the group outside of Billy's room. "Fuck *hic* Maaaaax!" he yelled, Max's head shot up and she turned to his door, Billy tried to walk to his door, to leave his smelly room. Max stood up, "Billy, I know..." she said. Lucas looked at her, in shock; he has never seen the person he loves, care about Billy. They never got along but now, she is calm and trying to talk or reason with her step-brother. Billy let out a big sigh, "I-I...I miss her man...." Billy whispered. Billy didn't know anyone of her friends was in the trailer right now, he thought it was just Max, and only Max. That's why he started his drinking shaningins.

"I miss her too..." Steve ushered the kids out of the trailer, to leave Billy to his own devices. After all, he beat up Steve, almost killed Max's new friends, just overall not a good man towards the Hawkins group. At the Wheelers house, Max finally calmed down enough to explain the situation without giving to much detail on her soon to be sister. You and Billy have been dating every since you were in 7th grade. 5 years of ups and downs, and you both still want to be together. "Billy misses his girlfriend and I miss her too. Today is their 5th year anivisruay together; this is the first year they haven't been together. All because we moved from California to Hawkins.. Lucas, he doesn't hate you, just, the way you act and sound reminds him of her, the one person he truly loves. The one who helped him out of this dark hole."Billy was lying on top of his bed, staring at the ceiling, beer in hand, cigarette between his lips. His sad records were playing on repeat, this year would mark the full 5th anniversary. The front door opens to reveal Max standing in the doorway with El, she covers her face scrunching her nose to the smell of beer lingering like a dark cloud of dread. 'God what's wrong now?' she asked herself. The two teens walked into the trailer following the beer skeleton trail. The two girls walked down the hall, to the only room with more than one hole in it; it was closed. 'Billy must be home...' she thought, El reading her mind nodded. Max knocked on the door softly, no response, she knocked once again. A faint groan could be heard, overpowered by blasting music. Max opened the door gingerly, poking her head in to see her older step-brother lying on his stomach face down. "Billy?" she asked, he lifted his head slowly to meet her eyes, only for gravity to pull him back down to the bed sheets. "Billy, come on, get over yourself" Max lightly shouted. Billy groaned in rebellion, Max felt sorry for her step-brother. Even though Billy hated Max, and wished she was never in his life, I mean Neil Hargrove did leave his biological mother for Max’s mom. The affair had been happening for at least a year before his mother found out and left.

Max sighed, not knowing what to do really. After all, Max knew what had gotten Billy so depressed. “Billy, come on; you can’t stay like this; she wouldn’t want you to stay sulking around, drinking, and smoking yourself to death.” Billy tried to push himself up from his mattress, “S-hut up. No one cares what you think.” Max shook her head, walking out of his room and into the kitchen. “Why is he so unhappy?” El asked, Max, sighed once again, her vision became blurry, and tears trickled out from her eyes. “…Max?” Max didn’t answer, her head slumped as her body jerked once before the water gates opened. El put her hand on Max's shoulder in sympathy. El decided not to push Max, but she did radio the gang to ask them questions. “El to base, anyone there?” she asked softly.

“This is base, what’s up?” Dustin asked, El smiled softly. “Um, I don’t know, but Max is crying because Bill-“ She was cut off “Billy what?!” Lucas screamed into his radio. Billy began to not hate Lucas so much, he was upset that his beautiful coffee, mocha-toned girlfriend is still in California without him. The way Lucas acts reminded him too much of her, so he told Max to stay away from him so he wouldn’t have to hurt seeing his step-sister happy. Before El could speak to tell Lucas that Billy didn’t say or do anything to Max. *click* is all El heard before Lucas went dead. “Oh this isn’t good..” El whispered, Dustin agreed on the other side, “I’m going to grab Steve, Robin, and Eddie…” Dustin rushed before his line went dead as well. Not too long after Lucas and Dustin’s lines went dead, there was banging on the trailer door, Billy turned up his music, drunkenly singing along to one of his favorite songs. Max sat on the crusty cough, covering her face and whispering to herself, “I’m sorry..” El walked to the door and turned the lock, only to be pushed out of the way but Lucas flinging the door open. He looked around the room and spotted Max on the couch with her hands over her eyes.

Lucas clung to Max. Steve wasn’t happy about what they heard from Lucas and Dustin; Lucas oversaturated over the fact that Billy might have put his hands on Max. Steve walked towards the bombing music, clenching his fists. I mean he and Eddie have been caring for this gaggle of kids, Eddie followed Steve, not to help him beat Billy but to stop Steve from getting physical. Eddie has been in Billy’s position, his mother wasn’t like other mothers. His father passed away once he was born; his mother blamed him for his death. Until his mother got caught saying horrible things his Uncle was there to pick him up from that hell hole and to bring him into a calmer and nicer environment. Which worked, his uncle accepted him for being gay and was happy for his nephew. Other than that Eddie has been the calmer of the group, not because he smokes pot, but because he doesn’t like to fight unless it is needed. “Lovebug, calm down, let’s not bring more pain on this guy.” Eddie reached out to Steve, trying to slow him down. “Listen,” Eddie says, pointing to Billy’s room where he is playing ‘Two Birds’ by Regina Spektor; everyone went to a still, and no one said a word. All that could be heard was Billy, drunkenly singing along to this slow sad song; “Two birds on a wire…” beer cans and bottles clank together as he moved around his room. A dark cloud flew over the group outside of Billy’s room. “Fuck *hic* Maaaaax!” he yelled, Max’s head shot up and she turned to his door, Billy tried to walk to his door, to leave his smelly room. Max stood up, “Billy, I know…” she said. Lucas looked at her, in shock; he has never seen the person he loves to care about Billy. They never got along but now, she is calm and trying to talk or reason with her step-brother. Billy let out a big sigh, “I-I…I miss her man….” Billy whispered. Billy didn’t know any of her friends were in the trailer right now, he thought it was just Max, and only Max. That’s why he started this drinking episode.

“I miss her too…” Steve ushered the kids out of the trailer, to leave Billy to his own devices. After all, he beat up Steve, and almost killed Max’s new friends, just overall not a good man towards the Hawkins group. At the Wheeler's house, Max finally calmed down enough to explain the situation without giving too much detail about her soon-to-be sister. You and Billy have been dating ever since you were in 7th grade. 5 years of ups and downs, and you both still want to be together. “Billy misses his girlfriend and I miss her too. Today is their 5th year anniversary together; this is the first year they haven’t been together. All because we moved from California to Hawkins... Lucas, he doesn’t hate you, it's just, it's the way you act and sound that reminds him of her, the one person he truly loves. The one who helped him out of this dark hole.”

Mike looked at his friends, “Why don’t we take him to California?” he asked. El shot a glare toward him, she didn’t want Billy to be in California if it meant that he would try to kill everyone again or something. Max, with her red, puffy eyes, looked at Mike confused, “What do you mean?” she asked, Mike smiled, “I mean I am going to California with El to visit Jonathan and Will. Why don’t we bring him with us? Maybe that way he can surprise her?” This is the first time, Mike actually cared about someone and wasn’t thinking about himself and his girlfriend El. Max looked at her shoes and then back at the trailer. “Maybe that will work; thanks for the idea, Mike. For once I thank you” she snorted at her own comment. Everyone laughed at Max’s comment. Max felt calmer now, knowing that her friends who are now family care about her that much to suggest we all go to California to visit Will but also so Billy could finally see his lover after a long year.

Not far from the trailer park, Jason and his group of friends overheard everything. “So the almighty Billy Hargrove has a weak spot?” he whispered to Ryan. Ryan chuckled, “I guess so; what we doin’ boss?” he asked. Jason smiled, “Pack your things, we are going to California…”

Tags🏷️:

@harringtonfan4

[stoptellinglieslois]

Love fair Act 18

Vampire fanfiction Clark Kent human x Richard Grayson vampire no capes or tights but fangs and might.

Richard pov

Dream

I was walking in the gymnasium with Clark it was his old high school there is a banner that said prom in white sparkle, the gym was decorated with multi-colour balloons of blues and teals and greens it had a beach theme to it.

I walked with him it was as if I was a part of his life at this time but I knew that I wasn't. I wore a black tuxedo and a bright red tie and a red carnation in my front pocket.

This is not my dream nor my past life it was Clark and we are merging our consciousness together, I was a part of this life as he is when I share memories thoughts and dreams with him.

I walked around the gym with him finding a table I didn't know any one here but I waved like I knew them anyway. We sat down and at the table I looked down and a plate of linguine with clams and tomato that looked so good to eat, But I remember what I was but in this dream I wasn't vampire I was human in this dream I guess if your in this dimension when it suits the dreamer you could be whatever you want.

I had not tasted food in my whole existence and as I am human at the moment I wanted to try it , It looked so good to me right now. "Hey nerd brain what are you doing at the prom." Our table was being hustle by a bunch of bullies.

One grabbed a fork beside Clark and ate his linguine off of Clark plate and flung a piece of clam at me, Clark stayed in his seat like statue I got up and was livid being treated so horrid and so bold of them to treat him like this the rest of the guest at the table didn't move they were all afraid in standing up for themselves.

That didn't sit well with me.

"What are you going to do Fabio." And the ass hole pulled my hair and by instinct I threw my plate at him and hit him square in the face nice shot I thought. "You fucker you'll pay for this." As I heard a woman protesting for them to stop and calm down it is Lois Lane.

She wore a scarlet red dress with rhinestone all over she pushed the bullies to the side I had no idea where she had the strength to shove them to the side. "God Harry go away leave them alone or I'll tell the principal why you really can't make it to practice next Monday." Her hands crossed she was all business as she had a stand off with the bullies.

"That bitch threw a plate at me." He pointed his finger as if I was the one bullying him. "I swear to you I will drink you dry fool." I said the mood went sinister in a blink of an eye Clark finding a back bone got up. "Don't kill her please don't kill her." It was odd because it was these bullies that I was fighting with and not Lois.

Lois slaps hard the bullies face a sharp pop rang across the gymnasium. "Go and sit down." She didn't sound like Lois anymore. "I found out what you left at my door step." I said to her knowing exactly what I meant but in reality I had no idea what I was saying to her.

"You witch you followed me here." I tossed the table like it was nothing the guessed all but scatter away from the drama.

"You have no proof it's me." Lois says.

"Thalia you burned down Clark's house." I said now I am pointing a finger at her Clark getting in between us. "Stop we are not ready for this." I nudge him out of the way. "Thalia did you leave death at my door step." I accused.

"Yes you fool and I will do more just so that I could see you and the fisherman cry." She laughed a laugh only true evil would laugh her pleasure grossed me and I wanted to end that laughter.

Raz Al Ghul appeared and grabbed Clark's arm that's when Clark set him on fire with a lighter. "That will do it." Clark eyes glowed red.

And that's when I heard a deafening scream and it woke me up.

End of dream

Clark pov

"Don't move and get closer to me." Jason said I did what he said and slowly tipped toe away from the door covering my mouth so I don't restart to scream once more the head of the dead dog laid on on the floor bloodied and I knew this was a threat.

I shook like a leaf as I backed away from the scene as I made it beside Jason. "Oh god it's Rex." I didn't know who Rex is but I am betting that's him on the floor.

"Christ what the fuck is going on." I stammered. "We've been called out they know you're here we have to move faster than usual." Jason said and picking up the head I internally freaked out as he did that not wanting to deal with him to handle someone severed head.

"What's going on." Tim came from the basement all of a sudden. "I found Rex on the floor." Tim's face went a shade of white if possible. "Fuck fine let's move then." Tim said.

"We can't leave we need to tal.." Tim cut him off.

"We need to leave and go to the Wayne manor and get properly prepared this place was ok for us just you and me, Not anymore we need to move fast Jason we will take Rex and lay him to rest on the go." Tim said not wanting to here anymore of Jason protest.

"Where's Richard why isn't he here yet." Jason crying for his fallen friend looking around for Richard.

That's when I turned around and found Richard beside me. "Thalia completely possesses Lois Lane she found a host to use to get to me." Richard said in an even tone.

"Lois."

"We need to fight as if we are witches as well so we need to leave here she won't really go to Gotham we put protection spells around the city." I needed to sit down and the floor seemed like a great place to sit and not panic.

End of act 18 next is act 19

Thank you for reading

[brwnicons]

Slashers x artsy!reader who asks them to pose

-> Summary: the title resumes it pretty well. Headcanons, and reader's gender isn't specified.

-> Warnings / Triggers: swearing, mentions of nudity in Freddy and Jason

-> Includes: Freddy, Jason, Brahms, Pennywise and Hannibal (NBC)

Please tell me if you find any mistake

Freddy

• You were running out of inspiration

• And then you thought of drawing Freddy, the easiest living reference you could find

• Well, easy might not be the word. Bold of you to assume that once he knows you need him he'll make it simple.

• Sooo you took a nap to tell him to pose for you

• Of course you would have to approach carefully, if you tell him that he's your muse you're going to give him a fucking huge ego boost and he'll might tease you for, weeks?? MONTHS???

• "Hey, Fred, could you help me out with something in the real world??" You would ask him after appearing in your shared dream flat

• He'll be high key confused

• What? You don't reach a high shelf? Did someone hurt you? Do you want him to make you a sandwich or does he have to kill someone?

• "Huh? What is it, sweetie?" He would say as he stops reading some porn magazine

• You took a deep breath

• "Wouldyouposeformeplease" You said as fast as you could

• Seeing his serious face you thought he didn't understand you

• UNTIL he started laughing like fucking hysteric

• "YA WANT ME TO POSE FOR YOU??"

• You instantly regretted telling him

• You muttered a low upset "sorry" and ended up waking up purposely

• You returned to your workplace, took a piece of paper and tried to think of something, frustrated for the lack of ideas

• "You mean posing like this?" You would suddenly hear

• You would then turn your head startled, just to see a fully naked Freddy in front of you, only equipped with his fedora and his characteristic bladed glove

• Well, it's Freddy the whore Krueger, what were you expecting?

• He isn't a man of words, but you understand that's his way of saying sorry

• Needless to say that you forgive him at the moment

• After some laughs you end up making one of your best pieces

• Even though this burned bastartd just keeps changing pose every 5 minutes and sometimes makes jokes when you're focused, or makes sexy growls and ask you if you "like what you see" if you look at him too much

• He can't be more proud of you work and he'll put it above your shared bed <3

Jason

• *Head tilt*

• He wouldn't understand at first but after you explain him he would be super happy that you admire him so much that you want to take him as reference

• Wait, actually he is sobbing

• Please give him a hug

• He would do whatever you want him to do, you want him laid down? Done. Outside by a campfire? He's already collecting wood. Maybe with some fancy hat? He has 10 different for you to choose. Whatever you want babe, he is on for everything

• He'll only be uncomfortable if you ask him to be naked or without his mask but you might convince him if you explain that you need to practice anatomy.

• Anyway, if you use him as reference more times he'll keep getting more used to it and some day he wouldn't mind at all

• He doesn't have problem with staying still till you finish, but after some hours he would want to check that there aren't any trespassers in the forest

• He would also like to see how the piece goes from time to time, let him see and he'll get happier (if that's even possible)

• He keeps every piece you made like it's his son, it could be a small wooden statue or a painting, he will protect every of them with his life

• Some times he'll take things from the campers that he thinks will inspire you, like a bright keychain or a trendy shoe.

• He really is just too cute

Brahms

• I think that he would be the only one who actually knows how to behave when used as model

• Like, actually he got portrayed once with his parents so at least he has a little experience about it

• But he is very excited that you want to take reference from him!

• Although he won't move when you're working, you'll need to stop every so often because he would want to eat or go to the bathroom

• And if you show him how the work is going and he doesn't like it he will throw a tantrum

• But he'll behave almost always because he respects your work, so depends mostly on the day

• Don't try to hide your works from him or you'll wake up one day with the Heelshire Mansion's walls covered in your paintings and with your work scattered around the rooms

• Also some of your works may dissapear because someone keeps them in their secret lair

• As his favourites books don't have pictures, he'll sometimes take some to you and ask you to draw something about his favourites scenes or he'll beg you to draw him as his favourite character <33

• Of course you'll do it

• And he might or might not cry (of course he does)

Pennywise

• You would explain that you want to draw some poses to practice anatomy

• And you would ask him to do them

• Maybe he's not the best example for anatomy practice since this red nosed rat has the body structure of a noodle

• If your thing is bizarre art then be prepared for making the best works!

• But honestly, as an artist, I would freak out if I could use Pennywise as reference

• This sewer clown has an inhuman flexibility so there's no impossible pose for him, you can ask him to pose however you want and somehow he will. It'll be a bit weird to look at but hey you asked for it!

• In fact if he senses that you're uncomfortable looking at him completely bent, he'll do it even more just to piss you off take pride on that you want to use him as reference

• Also he can litterally shape shift in everything he desires so doesn't matter if you want to draw a giraffe, a granny or a flower jar.

• Of course his work won't be free, so better have some sweets prepared for when you're done.

• The bad part is that he'll be constantly moving, speaking, making jokes... it's just impossible to make him take it serious. Also, it doesn't matter his form, you'll hear his bells tinkle all the time. Hope you can still focus.

• But in the end he'll appreciate every one of your works and he'll believe they are the absolutely best (and they are)

• He'll get some for his nest <3

• And some will go to the mansion's walls

• The kids are kinda confused to see all that art in a so gloomy mansion

• But if one of them says something negative about your works needless to say that they'll be the next appearing in the milk cartons

Hannibal (NBC)

• As another artist I'm sure he would understand you and would be completely fine with being your reference

• Once you ask him to pose he would smile and say a fast "wait a minute" before disappearing in your shared bedroom

• After some minutes he would come out with his finest suit and a bunch of art supplies

• "Shall we start?"

• He'll pose how you want, and as long as you need

• Show him occassionally how it's going and if you want he'll suggest colours or tools. If you don't want advise he'll respect it and just would be curious about how it ends

• Though however it ends he'll love it anyway.

• He'll show off your works to EVERYONE

• He'll even might try to convince you to expose them in an art gallery

• And definently you'll have them everywhere in your house.

• Maybe you two can make something together

• Like you can do a drawing and he colours it

• Also I picture him appearing someday and asking you to make some personalized tableware

• Back to the topic, Hannibal is SUPER supportive of your art as he himself is a man who appreciates it and knows the effort that making art takes, physical and psychological.

• Speaking of psychology, of course he'll analyze every single piece you make

• After you've been together for a while, he'll ask you to pose for him too

• In fact both of you would be used to being in the same room with the other when one of you takes casually a notebook and starts sketching the other

• This being said, you are the typical artsy couple <3

• He would take you to museums, operas or the best parks to help you with inspiration <3

• And art supply that you mention, art supply that appears in your workplace the day after

• Workplace with of course a special spot for posing with great lighting

• Workplace that he indeed made you himself

• <333

[papipopsicle]

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

[charliedawn]

How would they react if you ask them to dance?

Freddy :

"Heck yeah !"

Freddy is one of the only slasher that is musically cultured. He can spot good hard rock from a mile away. He is a rock and roll fan to the end. Just, put on any hard rock song and you will see his eyes literally sparkle in delight. He would dance with you until the end of the night. Literally.

" Come on darling, let me turn your world upside down !"

He would pretend having a guitar in his hands and laugh while shaking his head up and down with the rhythm. In rare moments, he would actually forget where he is and start singing with the lyrics.

"~She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry..."

Surprisingly, Freddy has a great voice and, when given the opportunity, will make the slashers enjoy a live concert of his. In those moments, not even Pennywise dares make fun of Freddy. Freddy understands your love for old music, and god, does he got the moves ! You swear that when he is dancing, you forget all about who he is and who you are. If you weren't dancing before, you certainly are now. 😂

Surprisingly enough, Arthur would not join right away. He would first see you dance and enjoy himself watching you having fun with the other slashers. But once he is sure that nobody will judge him ? He will join and dance to his heart content. Many people have ways to express themselves, hobbies that help them de-stress..But unfortunately for the slashers, that hobby was mostly killing people. You try to make them see that they can do the same in many different ways. Joker, however, is a very special case, because he actually tried to escape with dance and jokes..People destroyed his dreams. Now, you have to help him get back his hope and the dreams he lost. The first step to do that ? Make him remember what he loved, before becoming the Joker.

" Why do you want to make me believe in something that is gone ?"

" Because I believe in you, Arthur."

He waited for someone to actually believe in him for so long that he can't help but cry at your words. He would then take you for a dance and make you laugh for the rest of the night. He doesn't mind you old-fashioned taste, as he prefers old songs as well, especially the catchy ones.

" Dance ?! Dancing ! Yesss !"

Penny screams while throwing his hands in the air. He loves dancing. It was the only thing he had when he was alone and penniless. He was dancing in the street in his old clown costume, hoping for some generous souls to find him entertaining. However, when he became Penny, his dance became the last thread of his old life he hanged on to. It may have been a way to lure his victims in as well, but it was also much more for Penny. He loves dancing. He is also very good at it, being a very flexible person with a great creativity. His dance may look childish at first, but it's only because he never got the proper training. You asked the hospital to give him some lessons, but unfortunately, they didn't want the dance teacher to become dinner. This is how you had gotten the idea of Friday's dancing nights. It allows the bond between the slashers to strengthen and for Penny to learn more about what he loves.

" Penny dances ! Penny is so happy !"

Well, just make sure he has the dance floor to himself, as you wouldn't want any of the slashers to receive a slap or a kick on accident..He doesn't really care about the music, as long as he can dance on it.

Dance ? What is dance ? When he sees you and the other slashers dance, it makes him think of those teenagers at Crystal lake. He is not too fond of dancing. He will however stare at you and sometimes, even nod his head up and down with the music if he likes it. But, if you try to make him dance with the others ? He will freeze. He is not used to dancing and never cared enough to learn. For a long time, it had only been his mother and him, therefore he hasn't had the chance to make friends or open up enough to dance at parties. He likes watching though. Most of the time, he will stay with Five or Michael, the only ones to understand his predicament. Plus, he doesn't know or understand most of the songs you're playing. He tried to ask you what they meant, but most of the words you used to answer him only made him more confused. Love ? Hope ? Loss ? He doesn't understand them. However, he does understand grief and sorrow. Those are feeling he can relate with as he felt them when he lost his father. When a sad song comes in, he will pay more attention and feel a tug in his chest.

" My boy. You have to live your life as you intended. Don't let anyone tell you what you should or shouldn't feel. One day, the ones who bullied you and called you names will see how amazing you truly are."

The words of his father echo in his head as he listens to the music. He has nearly forgotten about his face, but his voice is still with him, advising him wherever he goes. He just never took the time to listen to him until now. He always thought that his mother was everything he needed, that she was the only one who loved him, but maybe was he wrong after all ? Maybe other people could accept him ?

*internal panic*

He knows how to dance, that's not the problem. It's just that it's been so long that he's afraid he's gotten a bit rusty. This is why you will most likely find him hidden in a corner, watching over you all. At this point, he is more likely to play the role of the quiet big brother who is making sure none of his siblings accidently hurt themselves or have too much to drink. However, if you really insist, he will try to enter the game and make a few tentative steps on the dance floor. But, dont expect too much of him. He is embarrassed enough as it is. However, he will help in the kitchen if you need to bake something of prepare some snacks for the slashers. Another thing to know about Michael, is that unlike Jason that doesn't mind raising his mask a little to eat or drink, Michael will prefer to wait until everybody is gone or asleep before letting himself do the same. He is very keen on his mask and doesn't want anyone to see him without it. So, maybe prepare a little space away from prying eyes for him to have intimacy ? As for the music, he doesn't mind. Everything is fine with him.

Unlike Penny, Pennywise is not that much of a dancer. Penny is a dancing clown, Pennywise is a grouchy clown. He would rather be sarcastic all evening than partaking in the fun. However, something that he is good at is inflating balloons. He will help organize the party and will try to entertain Penny as much as he can. Pennywise may not be a dancing clown, but he cares about Penny. Penny is the closest to family he has left, and even though he would never admit it, he would do anything for him. He is protective of him and if it meant making Penny happy ? He wouldn't mind playing the clown for a night.

" Stop looking at me like that. I'm not gonna dance. You can't make me. Invite Penny instead. He's far more excited to make a fool of himself than me.."

He would reply when you invite him to dance. He doesn't care about the songs, as long as they don't have any curses in them. He loves cursing, but he doesn't want Penny to follow his example. He wants him to keep the little innocence he has left.

(couldn't find a gif with Five, so imagine it's Five in the second gif.)

He will not dance. Not even if you beg him. He will be happy if you leave him alone with the drinks. He will mostly stay with Michael and drown his bad mood in alcool and most likely complain.

"Goddammit. Can't we have decent whiskey in here ?!"

However, if you really insist and he has enough alcool in his system ? He may follow you and make some moves on the dance floor. Maybe.

" I swear you all suck. It seems I'll have to step up to level the game. It's not because I'm having fun or I like any of you, it's just because you bunch of idiots can't differentiate good dancing and monkey dancing."

Five got many classes on how to be the perfect spy while being trained. Let's say that there were some more enjoyable classes than others. He knows how to dance as a result and will steal the dancefloor when given the chance.

[jasontoddshoe]

Strictly Business // Jason Todd

Chapter 10 - Jason

Warnings: injury, swearing, pain, crying, blood

Everything happened so fast. After the gunshot rang through the large office followed by your body falling to the floor, Jason didn't even register his finger pulling his own trigger. A second loud gunshot rang through the office right into Sionis' hip. He yelled out in pain, clutching his hip as he doubled over.

From there it was a blur, the next thing he remembers is Tim and Damien running into the room and Jason held your body close to his, applying pressure to your wound.

"We heard the gunshots, Batman and Nightwing are on their way here" Damien stated, making his way to Sionis' now also unconscious body. Tim rushed over to Jason and you, assessing the situation.

Shortly after Bruce showed up and with the help of Damien lugged Sionis out of there as Tim tried his best to help you. Jason felt useless at the moment, all of his knowledge of wounds went out the window as he held your unconscious body close to his.

"He shot her Timbers" Jason felt his eyes starting to water up but he swallowed back his tears. Tim could hear how Jason sounded choked up but knew better than to tease him right now.

"I know Jay, just keep pressure on it ok?" Tim replied softly, fumbling through the things in his belt trying to find something to help. Jason decided he was taking too long and yanked off his jacket and tying it around your wound tightly. "Good thinking, but your jacket's gonna get ruined"

"Do you really think I give a shit about that right now?" Jason snapped, locking eyes with Tim through his helmet. Tim looked slightly startled but shook his head. "Do you think Alfred can help her?"

"Yes, I'll take her back. She can't get on your bike like this" Tim answered, standing to his feet.

"Fuck that, you take my bike back. I'm taking her" Jason spoke up, standing up with you bridal style in his arms.

"Jay I don't think that's a good idea, I should-" Jason cut him off.

"I said I'm fucking taking her, it's my fault she's in this situation anyway" he snapped again, this time voice cracking. "I'll meet you at the manor. Fucking hurry"

**************

Jason burst through the doors of the Batcave. Upon hearing the news of you getting shot, Dick decided to stay back and help Alfred prepare everything he needed to fix you up. Jason laid you out on the bed, untying his now blood covered jacket from around your waist. Alfred carefully took some scissors and cut the top of your suit off. He cleared off the dried blood before looking over at Jason who was watching intently with tear filled eyes. His helmet was off and now people could see him, so he was doing his best to not cry.

"Master Jason, I think it best you don't be here for this" Alfred commented warily, glancing from Jason's face over to the table of surgical tools.

"No I need to, I need her to stay alive. I can't leave her alone right now, I can't" he rambled, catching Dick and Tim's attention.

"No Jason, what you need is to stop being a stubborn asshole and listen to your fucking family. You don't need to watch her get cut open" Tim finally snapped. Jason went quiet and recoiled into himself slightly.

"Alright, fine. But as soon as she's done let me know" he mumbled before picking up his jacket that he dropped on the floor.

"I'll take you upstairs" dick said quietly, going to start walking that way.

"No. Don't fucking coddle me. Help her" Jason replied, giving you one last look before he made his way up to his room.

***********

Warm water ran down Jason's muscular back as he hung his head under the shower head. It soothed his aching muscles, giving him the only form of relief he's felt for hours. The stream near his feet turned a slight pink as he cleaned blood off of his knuckles, with a sting as the water ran through the fresh cuts.

He placed a hand on the cold tile wall in front of him, shifting most of his weight into his shoulder and arm. Leaning his head back, he let his face get pelted with water for a split second before pulling away. He wiped his face, standing back up straight as he did so.

His hand reached forward and shut off the water. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and dried off his hair before wrapping it around his waist.

When he stepped from the bathroom back into his room, he passed your bag. He stopped for a moment and stared down at it. Fuck he felt awful. He felt terrible that you got shot, even more so because you wouldn't have even been there if it weren't for him. But what really got him was he caught himself acting like you were dead.

He was moping around like a lost puppy because you weren't there anymore. This made him realize that he can try and fool himself and other people all he wants, but he really does love you and need you in his life.

He sighed quietly before pulling on some boxers and sweatpants. He hung his towel on his bathroom door and flopped onto his bed. He slowly pushed the comforter aside to lay underneath it. He knew for a fact that he wasn't gonna sleep very good, maybe even at all, til he knew you'd be fine, but he also knew that everyone else was worried. Not only for you, but for him. It's very clear how hard Jason's taking this, everyone can see it. Dick especially knows because of their little heart to heart, which is partly why Jason lashed out at him and Tim so much. He had a feeling Dick wouldn't have been able to hold that in too well and he would've told one person who can keep a secret like that and would actually care, which would be Tim.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, Jason huffed and got up. He silently made his way to the kitchen to get something to eat. The lights were on in the house but he didn't see anyone around. He assumed they're all in the cave or asleep. It was nearing 4 am after all, so he wasn't surprised he was alone.

He grabbed out a glass and filled it with water, deciding against drinking anything with caffeine or alcohol. After downing the whole glass he decided to make something to eat, which is what he originally came down there for anyway. He decided on just a grilled cheese because when didn't feel like doing or eating much.

Apparently he was hungrier than he thought because he ended up eating the whole thing in about two seconds flat and even making another one. Right as he finished off his second, Alfred came upstairs from the cave. This immediately caught Jason's attention, making him sit up straighter and look at the older man.

"Ah, Master Jason. I was coming up to look for you" he commented quietly. Jason nodded, awaiting any news that he had. "Miss (Y/n) will be alright, lucky for her Black Mask must have pretty bad aim. The bullet didn't hit any vital organs. I was able to take the bullet out, she should be fine after she rests and heals up" Jason let out a sigh of relief as a small smile came onto his face.

"Thank you, Alfred" he said quietly. Alfred gave him a small smile in return, along with a nod.

"Of course Master Jason. She's not awake yet, and I don't think she will be until the morning. Please get some rest yourself" he stated, putting his hands together. "If you don't mind now, I'll be heading to bed" Alfred turned and started heading to his room.

“Goodnight Alfred” Jason mumbled, turning to stare at the sink that was now full of his dirty dishes. Your voice rang through his head, telling him to clean up after himself so Alfred doesn’t have to. He stepped forward and turned on the water, making sure he cleaned the dishes really good. Alfred just saved your life for him, the least he could do was the dishes.

Once he finished up he glanced toward the hallway Alfred had recently emerged from. He wanted to go see you. See for himself that you were ok. But he shouldn’t. Alfred told him to go to sleep, and he was normally right.

So against his gut feeling, he turned and trudged up the stairs back to his room. He laid back down and forced his body to sleep.

Tag list: @mortifiedmoon @myraticm @brainwashedbyhitoshi @avengerdragoness @thefemalethatwrites @boujeegoblin @roseangel013bf @vividhoods @katsukijason @wolfiemichele @grincheveryday @i-love-sleeping-and-dreaming @fuzzycloudsz @polireader @grey-water-colors @ijwtkms @annie-daetris @ppeachygemss @mayahoelland2013 @kaykat2105 @calcatss @distressedearie @read-in-the-night @justifymyfeelings @areabdhar @geekonaleash

If you wanted to be added to my taglist just let me know!

[ma-gic-gay]

TW: kidnapping (mentions), murder (mentioned, not gone into detail of), torture (again, just mentioned, not gone into detail of), sexual assault, hospital

He kissed her. With his crusty ass, never before heard of Chapstick, lips, he kissed her.

Oh, if only murder was legal.

"I'm so sorry he did that to you, Carly," he says, hugging her closer to him. "If I could, I'd kill him right now. I promise you. And I promise you, he will never be able to get near you or hurt you again. As long as I'm alive."

His blood boils as she continues, "I'm not sure if I can stand. He kicked me with steel toed boots."

How the fuck does someone feel like doing that? How does one get inspired to rape someone, to do something like this, traumatize them so severely?

"Do you want me to carry you out and into my car?" Jason offers and she nods, so that's what they do. The pair earn a few glances but everyone can sense he's not in the mood for questions, whatsoever, so no one asks any and they get into his car.

"Chase, he's going to ask me to recount what happened, right? Leave no detail out?"

"You won't have to answer any question that makes you uncomfortable or that you don't want to. Just tell me you don't want to answer it and he'll move on. I'll make him."

"You're not looking me in the eye," she notes. "Why not?"

"I don't know," he answers truthfully.

"Look me in the eye, Jason, and tell me everything's going to be okay," Carly requests and he does. He finally looks her in the eyes and it fills him with sadness and love and anger. Sadness because she's crying and because he can see the marks where she was slapped, where she was injured, where the duct tape was. Love because, well, that's just how they always are. Anger because of what Cyrus did to her. How Cyrus hurt her and only got mad he was caught. How much worse it could've been for her.

"Everything's going to be okay," he says, for both of their sakes before putting the seatbelt over himself and driving to the hospital. Yet again, he says screw you to traffic signs and speeds; she's clearly in bad shape.

Oh, Cyrus is going to die. Whether it be by his gun (preferable), or by someone else's, that bastard is going to die for doing this to her.

They get into GH, him carrying her still, and encounter Elizabeth. Hopefully Carly's not in the mood for a fight. "Jason? Carly? What's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm fine and dandy, Elizabeth. Just wanted to see your smiling face," Carly says sarcastically. Looks like she's still in the mood for a fight, even traumatized. "Can we get an ER bed for me and a doctor?"

"Yeah, sure," the younger agrees, leading them to a bed. "What kind of doctor do you need?"

"Just get me Dr. Finn. And Britt, god help me," the blonde instructs and Elizabeth's eyes widen. She knows. "What are you staring at, Lizzie?"

Scoffing, Elizabeth leaves before fighting her. Thank god. This would be a really fucking inconvenient time for it. She'd definitely lash out and say something stupid. "I know, I know, I shouldn't have picked a fight. Just couldn't resist."

"Well, the fight didn't happen, so you're good on that front," Jason half chuckles, putting her down on the bed carefully.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, just worried about you."

"Every time I close my eyes, it's like I'm back in that room and Cyrus is making out with me all over again and I felt so disgusted but he looked like he was having fun. Like I was a prize he had won, or like he was getting joy out of kidnapping me, like raping me would be the most fun he'd had in years," Carly says, sobbing almost silently through her words.. "And I can feel his lips against mine and it makes me sick because I don't want him within 100 feet of me, forget about kissing me."

"If I could, I would take this away from you. The pain and the everything you're going through. You don't deserve this," he informs her, brushing away her tears with his fingertips.

Anger and heartache are all he feels right now, seeing the normally so strong and passionate woman beside him breaking down and in pain. It's a painful thing for him to watch, even more painful for him to know Cyrus is going to probably live. Sadly. Sick bastard will probably not even be put in solitary.

He can't push down his emotions today, not with this. It's not great, but at the same time, it's not the worst.

"His lips were so crusty," she describes. "Like he'd never heard of Chapstick in his life. He clearly liked me, I could tell that, but he started stripping me while he was kissing me and I kept saying no, I tried to pull him off of me, but I wasn't able to. After he called you, it only got worse. It was like he was obsessed with me or something and so he kept going on and on about how I was his or whatever, how you would die if you tried to save me. That part scared me more than what he was doing, that he thought he was going to kill you."

"He wasn't able to. He won't be able to kill me, or live a life out of a solitary confinement maximum security prison ever. I promise you," Jason swears and she smiles.

"It felt like I was going to die there. Like the world was ending and I'd never get to see anyone I cared about again. I'd never get to get into another fight, or hug you again, or do something stupid and impulsive that you'd have to fix," Carly sobs quietly, "and I hated that thought. I know you don't like it when I do stupid things," he nods his agreement, smiling slightly, "but we all know that I'll do it again. And I, I kept thinking about you and the kids. Donna shouldn't grow up without a mother and I can't leave the rest of them without one. I thought about how you said you couldn't live with yourself if he killed me and how I wouldn't want you to suffer."

"We don't need to think like that, Carly. We're alive."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't think I'm able to close my eyes or stop talking because I feel like he's kissing me again and I'm in that room again. Not to mention, it killed the good memories we have in that room," she says and he pulls her in for yet another hug.

She, however, has a different idea and kisses him. Confused, he kisses back. No clue what inspired that, but now they're kissing. Again.

"Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Corinthos, would now be a good time for questioning?" Chase asks, awkwardly shifting his weight.

"Yeah, as good a time as any," Carly agrees as they abruptly end the kiss.

They've got to talk about that later.

"Alright, great. So, Mrs. Corinthos, where were you when you were kidnapped?"

"The Metro Court. I had been called in because we were sort a staff member and so I filled in. I was on my way out when I was kidnapped."

"And how exactly were you taken?"

"Against my will," she cracks, "by some dude who grabbed me and gagged me before putting me in the back of his truck."

That dude is dying too, the second Jason sees him.

"When you got there, did you know that Cyrus had taken you?"

"I figured."

"Did Cyrus assault you?"

"Yes. He, um, he slapped me across the face repeatedly because I rejected his advances and kicked me with boots," Carly says, beginning to sob again. "And if you're asking for sexually, yes. He kissed me, made out with me, and tried to have sex with me, after I said no, after I'd told him to get off of me. He jacked off in front of me with his hands and managed to get one of his fingers in me too. Cyrus stripped me down to my underwear and was probably going to take that off when Jason showed up."

Bastard, he thinks while even Jason is tearing up. It takes a lot to make him cry, much less she'd a tear, so everyone in the room can sense just how serious it is.

"Mrs. Corinthos, can you please describe what you went through to me, in detail?"

"Didn't I just do that?" Carly scoffs before whispering, "I can't answer this, I can't relive this. Not right now, at least. I just can't."

"It's best if we-"

"She said she can't relive it right now. Can you blame her?" Jason asks, glaring at Chase. "Move onto your next question, detective."

"That's really it. You two enjoy your evening. I'll be in touch soon."

Chase leaves and Carly breaks down again, sobbing loudly and worrying him even more than he's already worried for her. Which is really saying something, considering that he's about as worried as one can get.

Finn enters, with Britt not far behind him. "Sorry we took so long, I see my idiot brother pushed you too far. I'm sorry for him," Finn greets, earning a smile out of them all.

"Thanks," Carly accepts before changing the topic to medical things. "My legs are killing me, and I'm in physical pain practically everywhere. Cyrus slapped me, kicked me, punched me everywhere he could find skin. He, uh, he also jerked himself off in front of me and then managed to get a finger inside of me, so I need to make absolutely sure I'm not pregnant."

Everyone does a double take at that, Jason's hands balling into fists. Oh, the things he's going to put Cyrus through if he ever sees the light of day again. The tortures and violent attacks and emotional turmoil.

He's not a bad person, but he is fantasizing about killing one.

At the same time, right now, Carly needs him. More than anything, that's what she needs right now. And if she needs him, he's there for her.

"Alright. Well, do you mind if we take you up for some x-ray's? It'll only be for a few minutes and if you like, we can sedate you," Finn offers. "So you can sleep without dreaming of what just happened to you."

"If you want to be sedated, I can run all my tests while you are," Britt offers. "They're non-invasive, but it's always an option."

"Jason, what do you think?"

"If I were you, I'd go with the sedation," he offers up his advice.

"I'll take the sedative then, please."

They agree and have her sign some medical consent form before administering the sedative and taking her up for her exams.

Which leaves Jason alone with all the time until the sedative wears off, which he's been informed is two hours, to think and plan and think some more.

He should probably call her kids, let them know what's going on, but he's not sure if that's what she'd want right now.

So he doesn't, and he simply sits and thinks.

To be continued later in life when I'm not sleep deprived (well lol we can hope so it'll be continued tomorrow)

._.

[jdmainman123]

Oh you found my embarrassing button on the satellite outside got fish pretend to be afraid or just embarrassed of this black skin man sending in the front of this white skin girl

THE ENAIC AND THE SPANISH AND LATIN CLAIMING TO RULE THE WORLD WITH ONE WORD IN ENGLISH ANY ACT

Tell her for the next any act she wants to wash her p****PUSSY

Outside is nasty as we want to be 2 live Crew LIKE A LOOSE HOT DOG FALLING OUT OF TWO BUNS nailed it

Hey who likes octopus e n a i c does 🐙🦑🐙🦑

WHEN I HEARD THE BLACK AND WHITE SKIN BOYS AND GIRLS WERE CHURCHGOERS THE SOUND PEOPLE AND BABIES COULDN'T ANY ACT SUPERSEDED THE WORD antecedent

I called it

It's kind of weird how you guys got your entire family the antecedent broken two rights .... by calling them accidents .... Naming them 3ny Acts AND IT SEEMS ENERGY TO RESIST AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHERE THE BLACK HAIR WHITE SKIN GIRL WENT MISSING FOR ME MIAMI FLORIDA LAS VEGAS? ANYBODY BOSTON IN UTAH THEY HAVE TO BE ON TOP OF BOTH CITIES BY NOW GAG ORDER SUNLIGHT CITY FROM SNOW I bet he turns the phone back on when he wants us to kill his kids

E n a i c and any act FUNNY I PRONOUNCE YOUR GIRLS DEAD ONE OF THEM HELPED ME KILL ANY ACT SATELLITE MAKER that's right the white skin ones the black skin one was dismembered because all she could talk about was a white hair white skin man and her little son little black skin one all he could talk about was a white hair white skin man over the e n a i c or any act LIKE A DOG IN HEAT WHISTLING NEEDING CRYING JUST LITTLE BLACK BOYS AND BLACK GIRLS CRYING

How how your daughter was killed eniac for the askseedent outside AND NOW YOU COME TO ME AND SAY YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE WAY SHE'S TALKING TO YOU LISTEN THE REASON WHY I'M HERE IS CUZ I CALLED YOU OUT FOR THE WAY YOU TALK TO HER OUTSIDE ANYONE OF YOU ROGUE MEN FROM LAX 34TH OR LAS VEGAS BLACK MOST LIKELY just two cities telling all the people blind side and all the people to be Kamikaze suicide bombers on planes AND 98 OTHER CITIES AND STATES DO NOT AGREE 98% OF THEM SAID YOUR SATELLITE MAKERS HERE IN 3/4

What about the deal there's no satellite makers in 3/4 HEY WHAT'S SNOW WHITE TELL YOU DID YOU ASK ABOUT ME OR YOU JUST GIVE HER THE MESSAGE I know Olivia Rodrigo - GOOD FOR YOU

WE GOT TO FIND A WAY TO GET MILEY CYRUS AND ADELE JUST STOP FOLLOWING ME TO QUIT FOLLOWING ME I DIDN'T KNOW YOU GUYS KILLED MILEY FOR SELF-DEFENSE I ONLY TOLD THE BLACK HAIR WHITE SKIN GIRLS THAT WITH THE ENERGY TO RESIST OUTSIDE you guys know what that is she walks right up to him and grabs his dick and picks out her dildo right outside right in front of the girlfriend E N A I C OR ANY ACT I'll help him how many times have you heard that in 3/4 the black skin goon a squad a team of them walking around the street saying I'll help him

Oh it's okay for white skin man does it but not a black skin man does it right BASIC MCCOLLUM AND COLIN BLACK MEANS ONE THING I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT'S HAPPENING TO YOUR BLACKSKIN PEOPLE ACROSS THE WORLD BECAUSE OF YOUR SABOTAGE AND SUICIDE NOTE MANIFESTO and there's nothing you can do about it me being here doesn't change a thing it will help a little bit if you mention my name like PROMO CODE

But which one is is the Latin or Spanish we understand the French camp we understand the Chinese can't the Dutch definitely can't GET OVER THE WORD ANTECEDENT AND SOUND PEOPLE LANGUAGE SOUND MEN SOUND WOMEN LANGUAGE

But the enaic 🐙🦑 ANY ACT WHAT ARE JASON'S DREAMS DO YOU KNOW MY SPORTS MEDICINE DOCTOR IN THE 34TH HOUSE JOHN GAVE ME A COLD PIECE OF WATERMELON AS I WAS DRINKING A HOT CUP OF COFFEE is that like your daughter eating Doritos twice in her life

I swear to FISH this favor for a friend of my father's has Russian dreams for Grandma and a 25-year-old black skin man the first time yacht fish is in a small tiny sound that couldn't afford a yacht couldn't afford an airplane and? ANY NAME We can make another Jason

YEAH BUT THIS ANY ACT HAS A DATA BREACH ATTACHED TO ME AND A HELL OF A FILIBUSTER I MEAN FILIBUSTER ALMOST GIVING OUT MY PHONE NUMBER THE ENTIRE TIME IN BETWEEN BREATHS can you telling me this lunatic is captured my entire sunrise with all the boys names and he's made 14 buildings with all the white skin boys names and sacrificed them in front of girls so if they come here it's a mistake in here WHAT DO I SAY TO MY BROTHER MIKE TELL HIM YOU KILLED HIS DAUGHTER

Any act has a lot to sound like your girls can't suck dick outside? Is that the answer? WHAT'S THE ANSWER THAT PISSED YOU GUYS OFF SATELLITE MAKER IN SNOW LOVES TO GET HIS DICK SUCKED ON A TRAIN and then he had a restatement remember the girls of sunlight City had a statement for you girls here wash your pussies ...... he had a very similar accent dent .... YOUR SATELLITE MAKE YOUR HAND SALT LAKE CITY THE ONLY PROBLEM IS WITH HIM I CALLED HIM OUT FOR IT MYSELF grow a p**** SATELLITE MAKER CANNOT FEED HIS WIFE AND DAUGHTER HIS DICK BECAUSE HE'S STUCK ON A YACHTFISH TIMELINE OF TOO MANY MEN AFTER THE WAR IS SAID AND DONE FOR A BLACK SKIN MAN CHARGE A FORT AT THE FORT IF YOU GUYS TO HIDE THE NAME SEND THE BABIES TO THE BEACH SAND TO HAVE THE MURDERED

It's just weird how this what is it the black skin setup of five planes of people Kamikaze to the world trade centers 9/11 UNTIL THE WHOLE WORLD HEARS set up a thousand people to fly into different airplanes into a city and land and say we are not allowed back home to our cities

WHAT IS I HAVE A BETTER ONE FOR YOUR BLACK SKIN MAN SENDS TRICKS THE SATELLITE MAKER DOWNTOWN OUT OF HIS CITY ONTO AN AIRPLANE INTO THE BEACH SUNRISE AND HE IS MURDERED IN DISMEMBERED you know you guys tell me this is some f****** negotiation I get home for 30 days and sunrise and new blacks and families on my block and they want to kill babies to survive they want to kill babies just to live they just got thrown out of their City

OR WE CAN GO TO ANY ACCIDENT KICKED OUT ALL HIS SATELLITE MAKERS AND SATELLITE OPERATORS INTO THE CITY WITHOUT GUNS RIGHT NOW WE'RE WATCHING A FIGHT BETWEEN AN OLD SATELLITE MAKER AND A YOUNGER SATELLITE OPERATOR just two retards fighting in the middle of the road at this point

[justagayguysworld-blog]

Not sure what you will think of this one, but my mind inhabits the most unusual of places.

It was the last beer and we'd shared it on the way to town for another twelve-pack. I barely knew Antonio. He'd only been there a couple of weeks, but it was the damnedest thing I'd ever seen. Nobody, and I do mean nobody, could talk to a horse the way he did. I thought it was a fluke the first time. Then he did it again and I knew it couldn't be natural.

We had a contract with the state for wild mustang management. It wasn't the easiest job in the world, but I liked the outdoors and it beat hell out of watching my old man slap his third or fourth wife around. Maybe Sheila was the fifth; I'd stopped counting or giving much of a shit by that point. For my purposes at nineteen, it was a godsend they'd hired me and paid my bus fare to Utah. We rounded them up, checked them for diseases, tagged them, sold off the limit, gave them their shots and then trucked them back to the desert.

I'd been at the ranch for maybe three months when he came up one night seemingly outta nowhere and sat next to me at the fire. I greeted him in what little Spanish I knew. "Save it, dude. I speak English." And that was that.

One of the stallions was raising bloody hell in the pen and stirring up the other horses. I stood up to see if I could go quiet him down. Antonio braced a hand on my knee and said as he was standing, "Can I borrow that? Thanks." He took the beer out of my hand, turned it up and walked over to the corral with it in his hand. Sitting the bottle on the post, he hopped the fence, picked the bottle up and walked straight over to the hellraiser.

Just walked inside like he owned the place. He was fixing to get trampled to death near as I could tell, when he grabbed that bad boy by his mane and said something. The horse shook its head side to side. Antonio jerked harder on a handful of hair, the horse quieted down and lowered its head. Then the crazy fuck turned up that bottle, and I swear to God, I saw a mustang down the rest of my beer.

Tossing the bottle over, he walked back to the fence and hopped it again like nothing had happened. Picking up the empty he came back to the campfire and said, "Sorry about that. Can I get you another?"

Stunned, I asked, "What the fuck was that about?"

"Horses can smell fear. And some of them like beer." He walked away leaving me gape-jawed and went to the bunkhouse for another round. When he came back with our longnecks, he twisted the lid off one with his forefinger and thumb. I'd never seen anyone do that either.

Bottle in hand, I asked, "Where you from?"

"Can't say exactly. I tend to move around a lot. Guess you could call me a restless spirit." Bending down, he placed the same hand on my knee again to sit like an old man trying to find his bearings and steady himself. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but the chill of his touch radiated through my jeans to my kneecap.

The hand was just as icy when he extended it. "Antonio. What's your name, cowboy?"

"Jason. Jason Sparks. But most people just call me Rufus or asshole. Seems I'm the low man on the totem pole around here."

He laughed and said, "Not anymore. I just blew into town. I'll be working the night shift."

"Night shift? I wasn't aware we had one."

"Yeah, I'm something of a specialist. These positions can be hard to fill. Not everybody can handle an alcoholic horse with bad dreams."

I literally fell off the log laughing. Struggling to get up, Antonio grabbed the collar of my jacket and pulled me back to an upright position. Without any real effort on my part, I found my ass firmly planted on the log again. If he was superman, I didn't see where he could be hiding the muscles. We were about the same size and weight from what I could tell. He chuckled and mumbled something about horses not being the only alcoholics in those parts.

"I'll drink to that. Let me get us one more beer and then I guess I'll turn in for the night. Where are you bunking?"

"Next to you if there's room still available at the inn. Larry said to grab any empty bed I could find. And yours kind of looked like a mess when I was stowing my gear. But at least it didn't smell like shit."

Stopping to take a piss I wondered how he knew which bed was mine, but in the quest for brewskis I'd forgotten the question by the time I returned. As if reading the mind I was in the process of losing, he stated very matter-of-factly, "You don't smell like a cowboy or a horse with a drinking problem."

Not knowing exactly how to or if I should reply, I thought a moment and said, "Generally speaking, I don't go around smelling cowboys or their sheets, and I damned sure ain't smelling a horse's breath to see if they've been drinking."

He must've sensed my unease. Clinking his bottle against mine, he offered, "Sorry, I have a really weird nose. It smells the strangest damned things. Guess that's why I'm good with the horses. I smell what they smell."

"Ain't nothing wrong with your nose, Antonio," I blurted out. "You have a real nice nose. Most of these ugly old bastards have had their's broken in so many bar fights, I don't really want to think about it, much less how they smell."

Bumping his shoulder against mine, he clinked his nearly empty bottle to mine and said, "Yeah, I'll take loving over fighting any time I can. Probably why I get along with the horses and avoid divorces.

We had minimal contact after that. Other than rolling over or the occasional fart, I didn't hear much out of him for the next two weeks. Except in my dreams if I'm going to be perfectly damned honest about this. And generally speaking, I didn't have much of a habit dreaming about other men, at least not in that way. But there he was, more than once, pretty damned specifically. If I'd been anyone else, it would've been hard to ignore. Only I'd learned to master any direct concern for my actual feelings, and dick management had never been an issue for me personally.

The crew I was working was out on range management. I'd barely been back to the place long enough to sleep, much less for fireside chitchat. Then Saturday night came, we were going to take a couple days off and there he was. Just like in my damned dreams. I have no reason to lie. It was disconcerting when I saw him sprawled out there next to the fire. Not a care in the world, acting as if he'd grown up right out of the ground on that very spot, he smiled.

Looking me directly in the eye as if he hadn't invaded my dreams, he said casually as a cousin, "Hey Jason Sparks, if you're going to the house, could you grab me another cold one?" It had been a particularly hard week, I was bone-ass tired and his nose still wasn't broken in six different places. Two beers later we were left alone with a raging fire and the feelings I was experiencing that matched that blaze. I really wanted to kick his ass. Antonio had seriously fucked with my head, and he didn't seem to know or at least care.

He got up for the third round. It wasn't my knee he touched that sent icy shivers up my spine this time. It was my thigh. About three inches below the part that separates the men from the boys. Close enough for discomfort, I met his glaze and that fire was dancing in his eyes. His nose still wasn't broken, but the quiet smirk on his face made me seriously think about rearranging it.

Fucker scratched my head as he walked away like I was some kind of damned puppy in love. Brought back another round and said, "These are the last ones, Jason Sparks. Let's polish them off and make a run into town. I'm still thirsty. If you'll drive, I'll buy."

That was the night and I guess the moment that changed or ended my life. Something deep inside me could hear it slowly rumbling. I'd seen it in those dreams. I simply didn't have the power to say no or the least of will to fight him. And we weren't struggling. I guess that was what's so odd about it. Everything in my body and soul knew it was happening, even if my conscious mind was slow in catching up. I wanted him. I'd be the worst kind of liar if I said I didn't. And I knew he knew it.

He took my hand and pulled me up off the ground. I could've just as easily staggered to my feet of my own accord. But he wanted that ice running through my veins clashing with my toasted toes inside those boots. And I felt it. Felt it thoroughly as we climbed in the truck and started the motor. Only once did he touch my body on the way to the store. It was completely casual and anything but innocent as the shivers raced up and down my spine.

He went in and came out. I felt very strange. Almost in an out-of-body floating feeling I drove away into the darkness of the rural night. I still remember. It was as vivid, quiet and unstoppable as a freight train bearing down on the family sedan stalled on the side of the tracks.

"Pull over." I could've kept driving, but the truth was that I'd pulled over two weeks before. "I said pull over, Jason Sparks." He didn't have to ask again. And the truth, as he very well knew, is that I'd been wanting to pull over my whole life. The cab of the truck was full of echoes and whispers as I floated above my body while it and he crawled into the back seat. Voices were everywhere, the engine was running and for the first time in my life I didn't give a damn.

I thought in some delirious way I was about to kiss a boy, but that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. My feelings, those secreted desires weren't important. We weren't boys. I'd become a man without realizing or acknowledging it, and that brief period of my life was about to end abruptly.

It was brutal. How could I possibly forget when he folded down the lambswool collar of my jacket and sunk his teeth into my flesh? I could've fought him off, but I'd already struggled my whole life to be something different than what I was. Antonio was reconciling my conflicts, meeting my innermost longings and he'd bought the beer.