#like obviously a lot of it sucks but at the same time like the insistence the only options r gay and straight

[matoitech]

so much biphobia is too dumb to even get mad about. u can call me a straight guy if u want it doesnt change that i fuck men. u can tell me im just a closeted gay man it doesnt change that im attracted to women. why would i lie. i think youre just stupid lol

[killuintense]

can you write a head cannon or a one shot (whatever you prefer<3) about fem!reader who is a virgin and leon’s first time? thank you and have a nice day

❝ so fast, princess? ❞

re6!leon kennedy x fem!reader.

summary: you knew that Leon was good at everything he did, but you didn't imagine that the first time between your legs would be so good.

content: 1.2k words, loss of virginity, age gap, +18 reader, body worship, kink degradation, size kink, breeding kink.

note: Ii hope you like it! i had these little ideas with Leon in his dilf era, but if you want me to talk about my hc about some more version of Leon, just ask! enjoy it ♡

Leon is a sweet boyfriend. Always careful, always taking you calmly in his arms, taking care of you from everything he considered a danger. And how could he not? In his already thirty-eight years he had experienced and lived thousands of atrocities, while you were his little girl. His little girl, who made him feel alive and young as he had once been.

That's why when the kisses went further and his hands traveled under your skirt, he always stopped. Generally he was not very discreet in his touches, sometimes when hugging you from behind, his lips would over kiss your neck and bite into the flesh with full intent to leave marks. Or even his hands massaged your breasts hungrily. But it had never been more than that.

But, fuck, you saw his goofy look when you bent down on purpose and let him look up your pleated skirt. You loved it when you played with that rough personality of his that refused to fuck you once and for all and make you stop being a virgin. You secretly laughed when he stopped the kissing session in which you rubbed her hard dick with your thighs, but covered by his pants, and ran to the bathroom with the excuse that he would be back quickly; and after a few seconds, when you leaned your ear on the door that separated them, a lot of curses mixed with your name escaped from his lips at the same time that a sticky and viscous sound became more and more constant and faster "Fuck, fuck, I need to fuck her so much...".

And what bothered you the most was how noble he could be. Going through all that repressed desire just to "give you your time" and "not hurt you" as he so insisted he would do. You didn't believe him, how much could happen? It was just sex and that was it, and you needed it as fast as you could get it.

Obviously, young and inexperienced, you had only recently come of age and could not bear not to have him inside you. That's why, when you insisted one day, pushing him to the limit, letting him not get out of bed to go to the bathroom (as was routine) and demanded that he stop being a coward and fuck you once and for all, his gaze seemed to darken enough to make you realize that what would happen next was entirely your responsibility.

And shit, he was rough and big as hell. You should have kept in mind that his age was also proof of how experienced he was, and that was clear to you his mouth was eating you, sucking and licking you so well that you didn't last more than a minute and you had to finish in his mouth "So fast, princess?" God. He was treating you so well, but he was so demanding, taking you as he wanted, squeezing all the areas of your body he hadn't been able to taste, leaving you with marks from his fingers because of how hard he was squeezing you; once you agreed to get to know that side of him, you understood why he had wanted to hold back.

"If I had known you would moan like a slut, I would have tasted this pussy a long time ago" the click produced between his mouth and you cunt was getting wetter, because you were getting hotter.

You had heard your friends say that older men were the best, because unlike younger boys, they seemed to make things less awkward and knew exactly where to touch. But you didn't know that Leon would know so well where to touch so that such obscene sounds would escape your mouth.

Leon doesn't hesitate to touch you, as if he knew your limits, to squeeze, to go slower when you wanted faster, all to make you cry and then compensate you with an orgasm. One better than the other.

The best part is when he desperately took off his clothes. While you always teased each other that he was so much bigger than you, his body was totally out of this world to you; big soft pectorals that you wanted to squeeze, arms that at the slightest bend or strain seemed to show off his veins in more detail, that marked abs, and the blond hair that forced you down at the start of his jeans.

You wanted to scream madly when he pulled down his jeans and threw them to a corner of the room, with his bulge completely suffocated by his underwear, your mouth was already watering. And you checked his size when he was finally completely naked, he looked big, dripping and about to explode. You cursed him for not letting you see more when he tugged at your thighs and settled between them.

You trembled as much as you could and he calmed you down; there he was again, the loving and understanding Leon who accompanied you until his member was completely inside you, inside you cursing loudly for feeling you so tight around him as he struggled not to cum hard at that very moment.

He took advantage of you in every way he could, taking you as he imagined every time he masturbated on your behalf, he fucked you with the force he was holding back as he drove you into the mattress and you broke down in moans begging him for more and more. The pain stopped being so stabbing as you felt the tip of his cock mistreat your womb with asperity and mercilessness, but now it seemed to smother you in pleasure "Your pussy is fucking perfect, so tight, and it's all for me, isn't it? " it seemed that penetrating you in that wild way was not enough for him, he was massaging your tits with adoration, sucking your neck with no qualms about the marks he would leave "You have no ideas of the places where I'm going to fuck that nice tight pussy you have, dammit..." his voice getting huskier and more desperate, your breasts and thighs bouncing harder and harder as the clashing of their skins got louder and louder, to the point of flooding the whole room.

You felt Leon's climax to the point that you ended up just feeling his cum fill you, as he moaned your name into your neck, and gave one last thrust. It was hot, thick, another way to mark you, to make you feel his. He kept kissing your lips, sucking relentlessly as he almost crushed you with the weight of his body, making you practically swoon from the sensory overflow you were experiencing.

And, after he'd rip you to shreds in bed, he'd take the time to clean you up, make soft little funny and loving comments; telling you how good you were, how good you made him feel, caressing you with his finger marks and hickeys or bites he'd left behind. He would make you feel hot as hell, and then take care of you like an angel.

And you were definitely thankful that you lost your virginity to him; even if it took you two days of your life to walk normally.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance gets red around him a lot.

It’s strange.

It’s different from when they first started. (First met? Keith’s not sure. Lance is so insistent that they’ve known each other since they were twelve, but Keith thinks he’d recognise someone like Lance, someone who smiled that brightly and laughed so loud. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t, so he doesn’t think about it. He pretends in his head that they met saving Shiro and that’s that.) When they first started learning each other (that’s a better way to put it), Lance went red all the time, but Keith knew exactly what that was about, could read the hard set of his jaw and the anger making his dark eyes steely. Sometimes he would grin to himself and make the flush on Lance’s cheeks deepen on purpose; say something incendiary and challenging in the most casual one of voice he could manage, just to watch how furious he got, how indignance straightened his spine and squared his shoulders and made his cheeks glow.

He called Lance Rudolph, once, and he went ballistic. It was the first time he ever won a spar of theirs, and half of that was because Keith was laughing too hard to breathe. To this day no one believes Lance when he insists it happened. (Keith does feel bad about that, a little. Everyone seems to think it was just Lance who egged Keith on in the beginning, just Lance who purposely made things difficult, but Keith is grown enough now to admit that he had as much fun pissing Lance off as anyone else would. Well, grown enough to admit it in his head.)

Keith still makes Lance go red all the time, now. The issue is that he doesn’t know how he does it.

They still compete. Obviously. It’s fun and it’s easy and Keith is a fan of things that are fun and easy. That’s why he’s into demolitions. And pod racing.

But the competition no longer has that flare of genuine rage. Lance himself had admitted it, sniffing pompously after a late night spar and informing Keith that he had, apparently, “sucked all the fun out of hating by being endearing or whatever”. He also mentioned something about Keith’s “stupid fucking big round pouty eyes and depressing backstory”, but Keith doesn’t know what to make of that so he shoves it back into the recesses of his mind like many other things, including the first time someone other than his Pa said they loved him, Shiro’s safety lectures, and any and all calculus lessons he has ever sat through.

(It’s a mess back there.)

Keith, too, can admit that the animosity is gone. He no longer wakes up and hears Lance’s voice and considers drop kicking him into a black hole. Sometimes he even hears Lance’s voice and realises he’s smiling on reflex. Now he and Lance hang out. Voluntarily, and a lot. They spar. They swim. They harass Hunk. They harass Pidge. They harass Shiro. They harass all their friends, really. Sometimes Lance uses manoeuvres he’s learnt in sparring to pin Keith to the ground and force weird products onto his face and hair, dodging Keith’s attempts to bite him, preaching about their cleansing qualities or whatever. Sometimes Keith even does it without hissing and generally being a nuisance.

Sometimes Keith follows Lance quietly to the observation, late at night, and sits with him while he cries. He can’t decide how he feels about those nights. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to think about them outside of when they happen.

In all of this, though, Lance’s ruddy face has stayed pretty common. Keith can excuse it when they’re sparring, because it’s admittedly a lot of cardio, but at the same time Keith doesn’t get that red and he’s way paler than Lance is. He can almost kind of excuse it when they swim, for the same reasons.

He doesn’t get it any other times, though. He doesn’t know why Lance goes red at the most innocuous things, like when Keith tells him his hair smells good or his laugh is pretty or he’s actually really good at that nerdy math game Pidge likes, holy crow, I didn’t know you were that kind of smart. Nerd. He doesn’t understand why Lance goes red when he trips and Keith catches him, ‘cause he’s a big klutz, you’d think he’d be used to it by now (it’s not like Keith is going to let him fall. Well, usually not). He doesn’t get why Lance goes red when Keith compliments him in training, because usually when Lance gets complimented he gets a big head about it and preens for an hour.

It’s just strange.

Mostly, though, it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe Lance is just a blushy kind of person. He’s taken to teasingly calling Lance Red, because it’s better than Rudolph, and also because Lance goes scarlet every time he says it, so it’s kind of like he’s a wizard who can make Lance flush on command. Which is cool. Other than that Keith mostly just pretends it doesn’t happen. They hang out too much for Keith to bother. If he questioned it every time, he would go bananas.

“You have icing smeared on your face,” Keith comments on one such hanging out occasion. (They’re plundering the kitchen for the cupcakes Hunk made and specifically forbade them from touching. But Hunk allegedly broke into Lance’s room last week and stole the last of his toner, whatever the hell that is, so fair’s fair.)

Lance pops the last of the cupcake into his mouth then turns to face him. “Where?”

“Here,” Keith says, tapping the left side of his own chin.

Lance, like a dumbass, makes a swiping motion on the left side of his face, instead of mirroring where Keith touched. He misses the icing entirely.

“Left side,” Keith says, exasperatedly.

Lance scowls at him. “That is the left side.”

“No — the other left.”

“There is no other left! There’s only one left!”

Rolling his eyes, Keith reaches over to wipe the icing off for him. There cannot be any evidence on them, after all. When Hunk has a conniption over his missing cupcakes they must play the plausible deniability card so they can snicker about it later.

He swipes his thumb under Lance’s bottom lip, trying to scrape the icing off with his thumbnail. Lance inhales sharply.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, softening his grip. He must have scratched him. The icing didn’t come off, though, so he switches tactics and slides off the counter, shifting so he’s standing in between Lance’s open legs and cradling Lance’s cheek in his palm to tilt his head. He rubs his thumb much softer on the stubborn streak of whipped sugar, and that works a little better. He keeps rubbing until finally Lance’s skin is clear, all the half-dried icing now spread on the pad of Keith’s thumb. He licks it off without thinking.

It’s sweet.

Lance makes a strained whimpering noise. Keith flicks his gaze up to meet his face again and is less surprised than he should be to see a flush glowing across his cheekbones, making his freckles seem much darker than they are. His pupils are dilated so wide they nearly swallow up the brown of his irises, and Keith can’t tell if he’s looking at him or through him.

He sighs heavily. “Dude, do you have a condition?”

It takes Lance a long moment to answer. By the time he finally does, his gaze has moved firmly to his lap, neck bent so that Keith can’t really see his face. His ears are still read.

“I’ve got a fuckin’ heart condition,” he mutters.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. That’s weird. He’s seen Lance’s medical scans before — he’s in the pods a lot. You’d think that kind of thing would be on there.

“It doesn’t show up on your med scans,” Keith points out. “Is it, like, a genetic thing?”

Slowly, Lance picks his head back up, squinting at him for several long moments. Keith begins to squirm.

“You’re actually slow,” Lance says with an almost awed tone of voice. Which is mean. “Like, genuinely, actually slow. I think there are bubbles in your brain.”

“Hey,” Keith protests, pouting. “I help you commit cupcake heists, and this is how you treat me?”

Instead of answering, Lance continues to stare at him. He almost looks bewildered, which does nothing but make Keith more confused.

Eventually he lets out a long, tired sigh. It is not the first time Keith has heard that sigh. That is a sigh he hears when Shiro finds him throwing up his guts after eating a tub of ice cream out of spite. That’s the kind of sigh he hears from Allura when Keith ignores instructions and boulders through the shocks from the invisible maze to get it done faster. That’s the sigh that says I wish I had a trebuchet to strap you to it and release you into the sun. Keith is very familiar with that sigh, although he usually makes it happen on purpose, or at the very least understands how it’s warranted.

Right now he is completely lost.

“I am going to go bother Coran,” Lance says finally, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards the door. “You are not invited. I will talk to you when I want to strangle you less. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Keith calls out, head tilted in confusion. He watches Lance go until he disappears down the hallways.

“He is so confusing,” he announces to no one, then walks out the kitchen himself.

[toreigh]

CAN I REQUEST SUB! KEN WITH W PRAISE KINK PLEASE 🙏 ur amazing ily

Those eyes | ken!ryan x reader

summary: Set in the real world, you take Ken to the fair for the first time. Having a little too much fun, things get.. A little out of hand in the House Of Mirrors. Need I say more, someone ends up on their knees. Also loosely based off the song Those Eyes- New West. MINORS DNI.

pairings: ken!ryan x reader

word count: 1,719

warnings/notes: SMUT! p in v, cursing, spitting, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, oral (m receiving), sub dynamics. ken is obsessed with you, but what’s new?

“Ready?” You said.

“So ready.” He replied smiling.

You took Kens hand leading him to the Ferris Wheel. You had come here last week with Gloria and she showed you everything there is to a fair.

"C'mon you're gonna like this one a lot." You said smiling.

Bringing Ken to the fair made him act like a kid again. He was pointing at what you two should do next, smiling ear to ear. He also said he would win you a pink teddy bear.

You were just admiring the view. Both of the views actually. All the lights down below, and Ken. The perfect taper of his jaw, the way his eyes look. He was all yours.

After getting off you took him to a couple more rides before he insisted on winning you the pink teddy from earlier.

You watched as he scored perfectly, winning it with ease. He handed it to you proudly.

"Thank you, my perfect boy." You praised. His cheeks flushing a bright shade of pink.

"Let's go there's a food you just have to try." You said pulling him in the directions of funnel cakes. Bear in one hand Kens hand in the other.

Once you got it Ken was walking towards a table trying to eat it on the way, and got a little bit of whipped cream on his nose. It made you giggle and when he asked what was up you just took a picture, showing it to him. Causing him to give you the same mark, and you two broke out laughing in the middle of the crowd, and no one else knew why.

Sitting down you fed each other the funnel cake like a couple on their wedding night. You had the most fun possible. By the end of it you were food drunk, and gave this devastating smile. Well honestly he thought everything you did was perfect.

"Cmon there's one more thing we have to try before it closes." You said taking his hand. The House of Mirrors.

Being one of the last people in line you had to use the restroom so you told Ken to wait there of course. He didn't really protest.

He did get a little worried when he had to enter without you, but oh would you be back.

It takes all of five minutes before he's lost though. A few minutes pass by with nothing but his own reflection. Off in the distance Ken hears faint shuffling sounds. Ken can feel his heart rate increasing.

"Kennyy!" You call out knowing he's close. You let out a small giggle as he lets out a relaxing sigh.

Thats when he sees you dressed in that white and pink outfit he couldn't get enough of.

"Stop it" He bites out, as its still only your reflection.

"Are you alone Kenny?" You ask.

"Obviously," He breathes. Trying to pin point your reflection still. He honestly gives up waiting for you to find him.

When he suddenly feels hot breath on his back, sending shivers down his spine. You press your front to his back snaking your arms around his slutty waist.

"Thats such a good boy." You mutter.

He spins around looking down at you ready to respond when you crash your lips to his. He can't get enough of you, his hands finding your waist rubbing up and down. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. Your like a drug he cant recover from at this point. He pulls away only for you kiss him again deepening the slutty kiss.

You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, making his cock throb and he suddenly remembers what its like for you to have your hot little mouth around his cock. He moans involuntarily at the sensation.

You can taste the arousal at this point kissing him like its the last thing you'll ever do.

"Wait B just wait," He said sounding on edge. "what if someone catches us, really?" He finishes

"Mmm is someone scared? That's the fun of it Kenny." You said rubbing your bottom lip.

You spin him around to look at himself standing behind him you wrap your arms around him.

"Do you know what I love about The House of Mirrors?" You asked.

"What?" He said meeting your eyes in the mirror.

"I can see how perfect you are," you say creeping your hand lower "from every" your hand grazes over the most masculine part of him. "single, angle." You say squeezing him through his jeans causing him to involuntarily buck into your slight grip.

You slip off his jean jacket, reaching for the hem shirt you look at him for permission, he simply nods for an answer. Breathing heavily though his nose. You undress him slowly earning shivers down his cool skin.

Once he's fully undressed you step back getting a good look at his tanned, toned frame.

"You have to undress to." He said feeling very exposed.

"Well Kenny if you want that, you're gonna have to do it." You say twirling your hair around your finger.

He gives you the same respect. Slowly undressing you.

"Your soaked B." He said looking up at you as he pulls your pink panties down your thighs.

"Only for you, can't help it baby." You say in a seductive tone.

When he's done he stands back up looking down at you.

You give a smile that almost brings him to his knees.

Now it's show time. You kiss him on the lips then under the jawline, slowly creeping lower. Peppering kisses all over. You make sure to take it extra slow on the V-line. Making him let of inpatient whimpers, you know he's not proud of.

Finally wrapping your little hand around the base he lets out a frustrated sigh. You kiss his angry red lip adorning a bead of arousal.

"The perfect fucking cock." You praise looking up at him through your lashes as his cock twitches getting harder at the praise.

You finally let your tongue come out teasing his tip, wrapping your lips around the tip finally. You make sure to set a devastatingly slow pace.

His hips struggle to stay still after a while, you pick up the pace teasing the underside of his head. You see him struggling to hold back and know he's close. His hands find your hair, not to guide you or force you anywhere, but purely because he needs something to hold onto.

Only when you felt him twitch in your mouth did you pull of with a audible pop.

Leaving him whimpering with need and his cock twitching with want.

Right before he spoke you cut him off. "But I want your cum inside me."

"You asked so nicely." He said taking your hand and helping you up.

You turned towards the mirror running the tip through your slick folds. You didn't even need foreplay just him.

He finally pushed in and you both gasped at the feeling. You felt so full, and your warm slick cunt was clenching him so, so good. He started to move slowly.

Starting to move fast you could feel him hitting your G-spot.

"Fucking me, so, good." You moaned out each word punctuated by a thrust. His cheeks always flushed it turned him on, his praisee kink through the roof.

Fluttering around you knees got week as you started to go down to the cool glass floor and he followed.

Then he leaned back, scooting his legs underneath you, and he placed you solidly on his lap. Your knees were arched, sitting on the lower of his stomach as he tucked a hand behind, keeping the other one on your clit.

He stroked you hard now. Four fingers abused your swollen area as he fucked up into you. You started to moan from the sudden stimulation as he watched you with grave interest in the mirror. Your head tilted back onto his shoulder, but no he wanted you to watch.

“Look at yourself while you come. Watch yourself come on my cock.” He said into your ear making you whimper and look up at him.

You felt your tummy tighten and build. It all felt like too much as you started to squirm. That unfamiliar knot unraveled at a speed so intense that stars prickled in your eyes. Everything turned black. Pitch black. So dark that you believed you passed out for seconds.

You came in a way you’d never done before. Your orgasm squirted out. Hips and dick covered in juices. Because he held you down on his dick as you came, he always did.

“Look at you, you’ve made a mess of us.” He said smirking at you, and caressing your boob. You whimpered leaning forward as his dick fell out, he whimpered at the loss of heat.

You turned around pushing him back so his back hit the cool glass. You finally got on top again wasting no time riding him hard. He began to moan he was so close again.

You kissed kiss swollen lips, before pulling back and whispering in his ear.

"C'mon gotta give it to me, that perfect cock always fucking me so good." You said as you felt him get impossibly harder and buck his hips.

"Give it to me my perfect boy." You said sweetly.

You stuck two fingers into his mouth pulling his bottom lip down and spit, and he swallowed it.

You kissed his lips praising him, sliding your tongue in his open mouth. You kissed him until he came inside you feeling warmth pool in your tummy. Kissing him till he couldn't kiss you back head thrown back in pleasure. His big hands slowly lifted you up because he was so sensative.

He helped you get dressed pulling your pink panties back up and using two fingers to push him cum inside. Pulling your shirt over your head he stood kissing your forehead.

After you gave him the same respect pulling his jean jacket on you could see him watching you in the mirror.

"What 'cha looking at." You said giggling.

"I just... cant get enough of you."

[yunhohours]

Just a Little

✗ Pairing: needy!bf!mingyu x fem!reader

✗ Word count: 2.3k

✗ Warnings: sub!mingyu in the sense that mingyu literally begs to make reader cum, reader is a lil mean maybe??, oral (f. receiving)

✗ A/N: i wrote this in one sitting without re-reading it for one of my anons so if it sucks then it sucks <3

You close the oven with one hand and shimmy the oven mitt off your other hand, relieved to finally be in the waiting process. It took everything in you to not just eat the brownie batter out of the bowl, but these brownies weren’t for you–they were for a fundraiser. You can’t remember exactly what the fundraiser is for, but you know that you volunteered to bake a little something to support it when your mom brought it up. You would’ve forgotten about it altogether had she not called you a few hours ago, reminding you to bring the brownies over first thing the next morning.

You had dragged Mingyu with you to the grocery store to grab a few necessary ingredients, but insisted that he keep himself occupied in the other room while you were baking. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the brownie batter the way you can. You have pretty good control of your urges, generally speaking. You can’t say the same for him. When he wants something, he can’t think about anything else until he gets it.

You set a timer on your phone and switch your volume on, making your way to the living room where Mingyu is sat watching tv. Your eyes drift to the television but your body is headed straight for Mingyu. “What’re you watching?” You ask, easily dropping your weight into his lap, eyes still glued to the tv. It’s obviously a cooking show of some sort so you really didn’t need to ask, but it’s probably more polite to show interest.

“Oh… nothing really. It’s just what was on when I turned on the tv.” His arms wrap around your waist, hugging your back to his chest. You hum, placing one of your hands over his arms and relax into him. The more you watch the screen, the more you can understand why Mingyu didn’t change the channel. It’s quite fascinating watching the creative process, even for things like food. 

You let yourself get immersed in the show with the knowledge that you have a good bit of time until you have to head back to the kitchen. Mingyu, on the other hand, seems to have lost interest. You don’t notice at first. How could you when your attention is elsewhere?

You don’t notice when he starts pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck, just stretching your neck for him instinctively when he does so. You don’t notice when his arms unravel themselves from your waist, hands seeking purchase on the tops of your thighs instead.

You only notice when his hands are drifting upwards and inwards, giving themselves access up your skirt. You swat one of his hands with yours, your brows knit together in annoyance. “Mingyu, behave.”

He sighs heavily from behind you, restless fingernails scratching the tops of your thigh as he tries to listen. You can feel him fully hardened beneath you and you’re not sure when that happened, but fuck, you didn’t even have to do anything. He stills for a minute or two, then his hands are wandering again, albeit more stealthily this time.

“Mingyu, if you think I don’t realize what you’re doing, you’re an idiot.”

He groans, but it sounds like the kind you’d get from a child when you tell them they can’t buy the new toy they snuck into the shopping cart, no matter how many times they ask. It almost makes you laugh, but you don’t want to give him that. Then he’ll think you’re softening for him and try to push his luck. 

“Babe,” he whines, “Can’t I just have a little?”

You turn your head to the side, eyes narrowed as you take in his pleading eyes. “A little what, Mingyu? Can’t even be in the room with me for five minutes without trying to stuff your cock in me?”

“No!” It was a lot louder and more defensive than he meant for it to sound, probably. “I mean–” He stumbles over his words, cheeks reddening and a nervous smile taking up residence on his face. 

You arch a brow, urging him silently to continue whatever excuse he was going to give you.

“I just want to make you cum so bad, y/n. Please?” His hands are kneading your thighs, but is it an effort to persuade you or soothe himself?

You roll your eyes and stand up, fighting his grasping hands that try to keep you planted on his lap. “I’m going to wait the rest of the time in the kitchen. Maybe this horndog will suddenly turn back into Mingyu by the time I come back.”

You huff when you reach the kitchen again, frustrated that your plan of zoning out until the brownies were ready was nipped in the bud. You easily could’ve lost time to that show if Mingyu would’ve left you be. Now what? 

You ponder your options, but there aren’t many, so you resign yourself to switching between apps on your phone. You can feel the frown on your face as you lean against one of the counters, opening tiktok. You don’t even like tiktok, but it’s certainly a time waster. You’re hopeful it will come through for you right now.

You’re only about four videos deep into your feed when you sense a presence in the room with you. You lift your eyes only enough to confirm that it is, indeed, Mingyu, hovering by the entryway like a kicked puppy. You feel yourself soften at the sight, but you don’t let it show. Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.

“Y/n,” he pouts, that same child-like whine in his tone. You force your eyes back to your screen, every intention of ignoring him. He can get so fucking needy. 

Admittedly, you love this about him. Who wouldn’t want an impossibly handsome mammoth of a man to want them as badly as Mingyu always seems to want you? It’s a big fucking boost to your ego, that’s for sure. Not to mention, he is the best boyfriend in the entire world. He does everything for you without even being asked and never complains. He keeps you on a pedestal and worships at your feet. Really, you should be counting your lucky stars.

Mingyu may as well have floated over to you with how light his heavy feet are. He’s being careful as he approaches you, not wanting to make any sudden movements. You force down another laugh, even though it makes you feel kinda bad. He rests his chin on the top of your phone so you have to see his soft eyes if you want to use it. He looks so small for such a big guy. 

“Y/nnnnnn.” Fuck. He’s so cute.

“Yes, Mingyu?”

“I’m sorry.” 

He is, you can tell. Now you feel like an asshole. You hadn’t meant to make him feel that bad about it. You were mostly just pushing his buttons for being so needy. You lean forward and peck his lips to reassure him that you’re not actually mad, even if you were being a little snippy. “S’okay, Gyu. Why were you so ravenous anyway?”

His cheeks are turning rosy again. “It’s just… That skirt.” His hand cautiously finds the hem of your skirt, fingering it gently. “Knowing that I can just slip under it and have the taste of you on my tongue drives me crazy, y/n.” There’s that whine again.

You can feel heat in your own cheeks now, wafting down your body in waves until it’s warming your core. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to figure out what move you want to make next. “Mhmm? Thought you wanted to fuck me. You were so hard when I was in your lap.”

Mingyu shakes his head adamantly, lashes batting with such innocence it makes your core throb. “Don’t even want to cum,” he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours–a sharp reminder that he is still, in fact, huge. Your breath catches in your throat. “Just want you to cum on my tongue. Need it so bad.”

This time, you groan. You angle your head towards the ceiling, closing your eyes as you try to find that self control you swear you have. It’s hard to find it when your body is buzzing, aching to feel Mingyu’s tongue lapping at your folds. It’s hard to find when Mingyu hums, dipping his head to press kisses just under your ear, his low voice seeking permission. “Promise I’ll make you feel good.” He kisses down your neck and across your shoulder, large hand pulling the collar of your shirt out of his way as necessary before making his way back to your ear. “Please, y/n?”

His last plea sounds so pathetic you simply can’t resist him anymore.

You tangle your hand in his hair with one hand, the other lifting your phone back to your line of sight so you can check the timer. You toss it onto the counter when you’re done, pulling at Mingyu’s hair to make him look at you. This small motion rips a beautiful moan from his pretty lips, only emphasizing the sheer desperation you already knew was there. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. Better make me cum, Gyu.”

“I promise, I promise.” He is practically chanting, eyes wide and eager.

You release his hair and he immediately drops down, hiking your leg up over his shoulder as he nuzzles his head between your thighs. He normally takes his time–pressing kisses into every inch of skin he can reach, massaging your thighs, telling you how beautiful you are time and time again–but he’s on a time crunch and he’s been practically drooling for this moment. He bypasses all of that, fingers pulling your panties to the side at the same time as his tongue snakes out to lick a stripe up your slit. He moans when he does it and you can feel your arousal leaking out in response. 

God, he’s obsessed with you. That’s so fucking hot.

Mingyu finds your hand with one of his, lacing his fingers through yours as his tongue hones in on your clit, his movements much swifter and more pressurized than they would normally be this soon. “Fuck, Mingyu,” you moan and he moans back. He has always gotten drunk off of the sound of your pleasure, specifically when it’s his name falling on his ears. You dig your heel into his upper back for more balance, head lolling back on your shoulders as his tongue drags through your folds and back up again. Rinse, repeat. 

You reach your free hand down to flap your skirt up against your stomach so you can see Mingyu’s pretty face. His eyes are closed contentedly and the sight of him having a sloppy makeout session with your pussy makes your already labored breathing stagger even more. He looks like he’d live here between your legs if you let him. You push his hair back away from his forehead, letting your hand rest in his hair. “Doing so good for me, Gyu.” His eyelashes flutter open for just a moment to soak in your praise and then he’s back to business, eyes closed as he dips his tongue inside you.

You cry out much louder than you’d expected. You hadn’t realized you were that worked up, but Mingyu fucking his tongue as deep into your cunt as he can reach is too much. The lewd sounds of his mouth meeting your arousal are too much. He’s determined, persistent. You’re not sure if he’s fucking you for minutes or only seconds. You only know you don’t want him to stop. “M-Mingyu–”

Mingyu looks up at you, slowing his tongue and letting it just twist around inside you as he squeezes your hand. You know him. You know he’s checking in with you, giving you the opportunity to tell him to stop, to do something differently. You don’t.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you breathe out, grinding your hips up against his all-too-perfect face. Mingyu practically purrs into your pussy as he resumes tonguing it, his pace quickening as his head bobs from the thoroughness. The hand that’s not holding yours seeks out your clit, pressing into the swollen bud and making your legs quake. You’re at the top of the cliff and you’re seconds away from tumbling over the edge.

You decide to throw yourself over, squeezing and pulling at Mingyu’s hand and his hair as you fuck yourself on his tongue. He hums and moans his satisfaction as you use him, your own jaw slack from the incessant silent cries of pleasure. The second you cum is evident not only in the way you feel but in the way Mingyu groans, savoring the taste. He works you through it and then carefully retreats, not daring to push you into overstimulation when you’ve already been nice enough to let him give you an orgasm.

He beams up at you, adorable fangs sparkling before he licks his lips clean. “Taste so good.” His voice is as sweet as honey now, pressing the soft kisses into your thighs that he would normally give you before getting you off. He always takes care of you.

You hum and let your body go limp for a bit, spent and a little tired from grinding yourself so aggressively onto his face. You feel Mingyu start to kiss each part of you–your hips, your stomach, your–

And then the timer is going off and fuck, it’s so loud and you’re so exhausted. You blindly reach for your phone on the counter, not bothering to look as your hand bounces around in search of it, but there’s no need. The timer stops and you peek an eye open just in time to catch Mingyu placing the phone back down. He always takes care of you.

He gently lifts your hips, placing you fully on the counter with a kiss to your forehead. “You rest, mm? Let me do it for you.”

And so he does. He always does.

[leossmoonn]

In love with ur Mike writings<33 can you write something about spending your first thanksgiving with Mike and Abby?

thank you :D and yes omg i love this idea!

bro this lowk angsty but it has a happy ending lol

————

thanksgiving was not something mike really did. he wasn’t really thankful for anything in his life — besides abby, of course. he hated his job, his house, his car, his nightmares. and even though abby and mike butt heads sometimes — all the time — he was thankful he had somebody like her to keep him getting out of bed in the morning and working. he started to feel just a tad better about his life when you came into the picture.

on the holidays, usually mike would take abby out to restaurants to have a meal. granted, abby rarely ate anything, but they both collectively agreed that it was special. but now that you were with mike, things changed.

“do you cook during thanksgiving?” you ask a week before the holiday.

“um, no,” mike shakes his head. “we usually go to like, applebee’s or something.”

“oh, how fancy,” you tease. mike chuckles softly and nods. “it’s a lot less expensive, believe it or not. we rarely go out anyways, so it’s like a little treat for us.”

“i see,” you hum. “would you want to continue your little tradition?”

he shrugs, “i don’t know why we wouldn’t. we have nothing better to do.”

“i could think of something,” you say. he glances at you. “you can come with us, if that’s what you were thinking. you’re always invited out with abby and i.”

you can’t help but smile. god, he’s so cute when he’s clueless. you take his hand and he turns his full attention from the tv to you.

“i was thinking we could have a proper thanksgiving.”

mike’s heart stops. “uh, uhm… no, it’s fine. it would take all day to cook and abby might not even eat anything. that’s so much food and money wasted.”

“don’t you worry about the money. i got it covered,” you take his hand in yours. “and we can cut down the portions. make a small thanksgiving meal and make just enough to have leftovers the next day. i think it would be fun. i can start cooking tonight, even.”

mike sucks in a breath, hesitating to say yes, even though he wants to. he hasn’t had a thanksgiving dinner since before garrett disappeared. it’s so painful for him to think of his last thanksgiving. it’s one of the last happy memories he has with his family. and now you want to do it with him, which was just another issue in itself for mike.

he’s not used to people doing things for him. and when they do, he pushes them away.

albeit, he’s started to get used to accepting favors and help, and it’s all thanks to you. all the dinner dates you’ve gone on, you’ve probably paid in full for half of them, and split the check on the rest. you’ve paid for every sporting event you’ve taken mike to. you’ve bought him clothes he obviously wanted, but kept insisting he didn’t want them because they costed money. he always feels terrible because it should be the other way around, but you’ve always assured him that you don’t mind. you love spoiling him because you truly thinks he deserves it. and he always makes up for it with little things like buying you flowers, gift cards, and sweet treats.

something about spending thanksgiving with you just makes him nervous and uncomfortable. thanksgiving for him reminds him of family and he hasn’t had a family since he was a kid. if he starts to think of you, abby and him as a family, he’s afraid that it’ll disappear just like it has before. but he knows what happened was a decade or so ago. he’s not the same little boy he was. abby’s safe with him and you. he knows he’s safe with you.

“sure,” he nods slowly. “are you sure, mike?” you ask, knowing exactly what’s going through his head. “we really don’t have to. we can go to applebee’s or texas roadhouse or something. i just… i think it would be nice.”

he nods in agreement. “no, i do, too. really. i-i’m excited.” there is truth in his words and you can see it in the twinkle in his eyes.

“great! tell me every dish you like for thanksgiving and what abby might like, and we shop for ingredients tonight!”

the next day went surprisingly well. you showed up at mike’s at the ass crack of dawn, awake and ready to bake and cook all day. you made all of mike’s favorites: green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, ham, and peach pie. you both agreed to make abby some spaghetti and meatballs and cookies as a back up plan.

“do you we want to say what we are all thankful for or dig in?” you ask.

“let’s dig in!” abby exclaims. you chuckle and move to cut her some ham, but mike stops you. “let’s, uh, say what we are thankful for first.”

abby groans, “i’m hungry.” “please, abs. the food won’t disappear,” mike says.

she nods and complies, placing her hands in her lap.

“abby, why don’t you start,” you suggest.

“okay,” she nods. “i’m thankful for um… cartoons, disney princesses, crayons and you! and mike, i guess,” she adds quickly.

mike and you share a laugh.

“i’ll go next,” you say. “i’m thankful for my mom and my grandparents. i’m thankful for the twilight movies and my cat.” you then grab mike and abby’s hands, squeezing them both. “and i’m so thankful for you two. my life feels so fulfilled with you two in it. i really appreciate you guys letting me in and join your family.”

abby grins up at you. “we think you’re awesome, too.” “thank you, abby,” you say, patting her back lovingly.

you then turn to mike who is tapping the table with his free hand. “i am, uh, thankful that i somehow still have a job. i’m thankful that my parents gave me another sibling, whom i love very much.” he gives abby a little smile and she sticks her tongue out, not being able to contain her own smile. mike turns his head to you, eyes scanning your face as he wipes his sweaty hand on his jeans.

“and i’m thankful for you. i know i have a lot of shortcomings and before you deny it, we both know it’s true. you just… for some reason see something in me. and i’m just really glad that you’ve stuck with me and shown me how to be better and do better. you’ve given me hope and make me look forward to waking up every day. i’ve never had something so steady before, so constant. i…i hope that you continue to be that for me, and i hope that in the future i can continue to show how much i appreciate you.”

you sniffle once he’s done and realize you’ve started to cry.

“oh, i-i’m sorry,” mike rushes out. “i didn’t mean to —”

“i love you, honey,” you lean over and peck his cheek.

abby groans and her stomach grumbles. “please stop! the food is getting cold.”

“sorry, abs,” you pat her back. “what would you like to eat? we made some spaghetti, too, if you —”

“i want ham and bread!”

“you got it, babe,” you say. mike helps you cut the ham, giving a piece to everyone. you all dig in and mike realizes how much he missed this, how much he’s wanted this for so long. he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it. “i love you, too.”

[little-cereal-draws]

Not me thinking abt the implications of Balister being top of his class

At first it seems like it's just because he’s really passionate abt being a knight, and we know he has been ever since he was a kid, but it’s probably deeper than that. He probably felt the need to “prove himself.” To the queen, to the director, to his classmates, to the kingdom.

We know that him being accepted into the knight training academy(?) was very public/televised and that him being knighted was as well. And we know both of those times, the public was not on his side. So how much of the middle, his actual training, did the public see?

I can easily see a slimy news anchor reporting on a video of the cadets doing drills and saying smth like, “And here we see the next generation of Gloreth’s monster slayers! They’re all looking really great! Except, woah, there’s Balister swinging a little too hard at that dummy there. Ha ha, that’s a level five move, smth these cadets won’t learn for at least another year. Trying to show up his classmates much? I bet he thinks he’s all that but with a gpa of only 3.6, I think he needs to be trying a little harder before he impresses anyone. Ha ha!” (Conveniently leaving out the fact that a 3.6 is way better than any of the other cadets are doing, even their precious Gloreth golden boy.)

How many times was him getting short of an A grade broadcasted to the whole kingdom as a “failure?” How many times did Ambrosius walk in on him slumped over a pile of books after studying too late? How many times did he insist on continuing to train even though he was obviously hurt? How many times did he resolve to do better after another "failure" only to be jeered at by his classmates, calling him teacher's pet? How many times was his studying disrupted by hot angry tears blurring the pages in front of him beyond recognition?

I can easily see him ignoring the end of class dismissal for the day, his classmates laughing and pushing each other as they leave. The Director's gently urges him to take a break and Ambrosius hangs back a few minutes, worried glances burning into the back of Balister's head. He brushes them both off and stays to train more. He practices for hours after, skipping dinner, anger and the need for approval driving him. He needs to try harder, teacher's pet, he's not doing enough, goody-two-shoes, he's not at the same level as the other cadets, suck up, he'll never be a knight. No matter what he did, he couldn't fucking win. He's so tired and angry and frustrated and burnt out but he can't stop, he can't fucking stop or they'll eat him alive.

A scream made of years worth of pent up rage echos through the training hall as he raises his sword above his head. All those nights spent studying instead of sleeping, there goes the straw and rubber dummy's arm, the whispered jokes behind his back as he walked down the halls of the institute, there goes the dummy's other arm, the disappointed "I expected better of you" the Director gave him, hay was flying everywhere as he pummeled his sword in and out of the dummy's chest, the never ending criticism from the watchful eyes of the kingdom. Sword clattering to the side with a clang, he rips the dummy's head off with his bare hands. Chest heaving, he sits back and looks at what he's done. Regret creeps in; he'll definitely get in trouble for this tomorrow. What has he done?

Anyways... this got a bit off track from where it started... I'm just having a lot of Balister gifted child feels

[hockeyboysimagines]

1 under drabbles with Brock Boeser pretty plss

Thanks for this anon! I love writing for him🤍

You weren’t a fool to think you met Brock on accident. I mean, true it probably had been an accident that he almost knocked you on your ass when you ran into him, but the rest had to be fate.

He was a great guy, sweet and funny and someone you’d come to love having around. While you harbored a GIANT crush on him, it was very clear that he did not feel the same.

You knew he liked you, as a friend. He always wanted to hang out, but he didn’t look at you with stars in his eyes, or like you hung the moon or anything like that.

While it sucked, it made you feel good to know at least that he loved you as a friend. That kind of love was better than no love at all.

Your friends however didn’t see it that way. They argued, insisted that he had feelings for you beyond friendship. They tried to get you to make a move. But you refused. There was no way you were going to humiliate yourself in front of him and have him never speak to you again.

So you buried it and went along like everything was fine.

Which is exactly why you were getting ready for a blind date.

“If you’re not interested in anyone right now then what’s the problem with a blind date.”

Not wanting to out yourself and your feelings for Brock, you agreed, but you weren’t gonna be happy about it.

You moaned and whined and complained the entire time you got ready. You were meeting the guy, whatever his name was, at a restaurant downtown. It was a nice place, and you gave your name to the hostess. As she walked down the aisle and turned the corner you stopped dead, mid step.

Sitting in a booth was Brock, looking as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

And then he smiled.

“Should have seen this coming.” He said as you sat down.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is everyone’s always on me about dating and all that.”

“Oh.” You had secretly hoped that maybe he had seen it coming because he was realizing he was completely in love with you, but no such luck. Dinner passed by and after it was over, he tugged on your sleeve.

“Let’s take a walk, and then I’ll take you home.”

The walk was quiet for a while, until he spoke.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“Your just really quiet is all. Sorry our friends did this, I might have ruined your chance to meet Mr. Right.”

You laughed hollowly “I doubt that. The only person I think might be right doesn’t see me that way.”

“What?” He frowned and gave you a shoulder bump “I think a lot of people see you that way. Your beautiful Y/N.”

“Yeah sure.”

He was frowning at you “ No seriously you are.”

“It’s okay Brock. This was a set up. You don’t have to act anymore.”

“What? Wait hang on.” He stopped walking and grabbed your arm gently “What makes you think I’m acting?”

“You obviously have no interest in me, like that and it’s okay. But I- I like you, and yeah tonight was a set up and I don’t wanna get my hopes-“

“You like…me?” He asked pointing at himself, you had expected him to be weirded out, or awkward but he was smiling.

“I do, I have for a long time.”

“It’s funny you say that.” He reached forward and grasped your hand, tugging you closer “I like you too, and I’ve been trying to bury it because I always just thought you were out of my league.”

“Me? How many pucks have you taken to the head?”

He laughed and gave your hand a squeeze “Too many, but I’m serious.”

The revelation has sent butterflies to your stomach and you looked down when he realized he was still holding your hand.

“So what do we do now?” You asked, eyes moving up to meet his.

“Let’s kiss and see where it takes us.”

He leaned down and you stood on tiptoe and very gently pressed his lips to yours. It sent a warmth from your head to your toes, as one big hand came to rest on your face. You stood there for a while, kissing on the sidewalk, making up for lost time. He was smiling when you finally broke apart.

“Best first date ever.”

[t1ts-4-scattorcio]

can you do headcanons of reader finding out about shauna getting pregnant by jeff when they were kinda 'together' pre-crash?

Shauna Shipman x Reader headcanon + one shot/long blurb

I kind of went crazy and wrote an entire imagine or longer blurb. I wanted to see if I could pull it off but yeah this is headcanons and an imagine combined. I hope you like it. I really suck at story writing but I hope it gets better with time. I'm also sorry this took FOREVER to make.

Headcanons:

You had just moved to NJ from another state and were super nervous about going to school, you were kind of bullied for a few things but especially that you liked girls. 

You needed something to do so you tried out for varsity and actually got in, you were good at soccer but the team was super competitive and known for winning. You had a big reputation to uphold.

Jackie was the first person to welcome you into the team, she was captain and it was her job to make everyone feel safe and like a family, hanging out with her meant seeing Shauna all the time (they were practically latched at the hip) she was right by her side.

It was a good thing since you really started to fall for her. You tried to keep it under wraps but were terrible at it, of course, Jackie spotted it first and was super supportive. She thought it was cute and knew you would be the perfect match. Shauna liked girls too but only told Jackie making her promise not to tell anyone and Jackie obviously respected it. 

Jackie insisted Shauna drive you to one of Jeff’s infamous parties. It was a little awkward since you both just hung out at practice with the rest of the team or with Jackie mediating the conversation between you too. You got to know each other after your favorite song played on the radio which ended up being her favorite as well. You both began belting out the song together and it’s how you became friends. 

You slowly exclusively hung out with Shauna, inviting her over for lunch or dinner after practice, working on homework together at her place, always attending parties together when Jackie couldn’t, and generally being known to be close with each other.

You both were really similar, you had the same taste in music, art, and writing. You both would share each other's work and were impressed with how talented she was (she thought you were amazing at what you did too) You didn’t know that she would draw you when you weren’t paying attention and she would always keep it a secret. That's when she realized her feelings might be more than just a friend.

It turned into beginning to be more intimate, you both slept in the same bed when having sleepovers, and you ended up in her arms in the middle of the night but neither of you ever complained. You held hands when you went to parties just to make sure you both were safe and were overall all over each other.

Shauna was the first to confess her feelings, speeding to your house and telling you how much she liked you, she was 100% nervous and not used to being so open, you thought she was going to tell you to leave her alone, that you couldn’t be friends anymore and it stressed you out beyond belief.

She just ended up kissing you and it was the best day you had in a long time.

Your relationship never was established as a couple, just something private between you two which blurred the lines a lot.

It went downhill after the crash. You would still share a mattress and kisses when no one was paying attention but she slowly became more distant. You didn’t know if you did anything wrong and it scared you a bit. 

It got so much worse the day you all got your periods at the same time, she was quiet and you thought it was just how she normally acted on her period but she seemed concerned and just ignored you throughout that entire week. You were convinced she hate you.

You overheard Jackie interrogate Shauna one day while you were doing your chores inside the pantry and Shuana’s confession broke your heart into pieces, that she would hookup with someone behind your back, and randy walsh out of all the people she would do that with.

You felt sick this time ignoring her, she confronted you and wanted to mend things but you couldn’t hold onto what you knew and just said frankly “you’re pregnant aren’t you” she was stunned and didn’t know what to say other than deny it but you knew better, “don’t lie!” she felt so guilty and it was written all over her face. “I heard you talking about it with Jackie?” Shauna was offended that you listened in which was bs.

You forced her to explain everything “what happened at the party shauna? Tell me!” she couldn’t look you in the eyes and all she muttered out was “jeff” you were confused at first but the wheels started turning in your head. No way would she hookup with her best friends boyfriend and ‘cheat’ on you.

You began to sob, you couldn’t believe it. Shauna begged for you to not tell Jackie, she had the audacity to be more concerned about that then your relationship! 

You felt like a fool, she begged for you to not leave her that it was a mistake and everything could go back to how it was, you didn’t believe her.

 you didn’t know she could be so cruel

Imagine:

You had just moved to Wiskayok, the ordeal was intimidating considering you had never left your hometown. Things were rocky in the beginning, people were pretty cold whenever you tried to be friendly and there wasn’t ever any time to make new friends with how busy school was until you joined the girl's soccer team. It was one of the most competitive teams in the state but you took your shot trying out for varsity and actually got in, you finally found people you fit in with but one individual really piqued your interest.

 –

You opened your locker rifling through books finding what you needed for next period when you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

It was Jackie, the team captain and one of the sweetest people you had met. “How are you liking varsity?” she asked. “It's amazing, everyone is so welcoming and you’re all so talented,” you replied honestly. “Well thank you y/n, we really love having you around,” she responded, “we need more gifted like you.” You smiled bashfully “I appreciate it, thank you.” 

Laughter echoed down the hallway, your eyes glanced over and were met with the doe-eyed girl you were so fond of. Jackie’s gaze followed yours “I couldn’t help but see you eyeing Shauna,” she smirked. Your eyes widened meeting hers, “no I would never” you stammered.

 No one ever knew you liked girls, people you knew in the past didn’t have the best reaction and you didn’t want to be rejected again.

“Hey it’s ok! She’s into you as well.” Your heart swelled at her admission. “You don't think it’s weird?” you uttered unsure.“No, I actually think it’s cute, she’s been needing some love in her life” she chuckled reassuring you. “Stop it I’m not in love” you blushed. “Hm ok, whatever you say” she winked following after her best friend.

_

Practice had ended, you were exhausted preparing for nationals hoping you would win and your nerves started catching up to you. Feeling lightheaded and moved to sit on the bleachers waiting for your ride when you hear footsteps approach you. Jackie greeted you again, asking you how you were feeling but your eyes would drift towards Shauna behind her on the field, you found it difficult to pay attention to the girl in front of you. “You know your eyes are going to be stuck like that if you don’t stop right?” Jackie snickered, “shutup,” you scoffed, Looking back at her. Jackie sighed “you should just go up and talk to her,” she said with a sigh sitting next to you. “It's not that easy” you look down in defeat. Jackie's face twisted in contemplation, standing she placed her hands on her hips, “it actually is” she murmured. 

“Hey Shipman!” she waved your head shot up, eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing?” you whispered harshly “What you should’ve done ages ago” replied annoyed. “Stop it!” you sputtered grabbing her wrist and attempting to pull her down. Shauna’s head swiveled to the both of you, she said goodbye to Tai before walking towards you. “Hey Jackie.” she grinned. “Hey, you know y/n?” she questioned tilting her head. “Yeah, of course, you’re new on varsity right” Shauna questioned, you stood up blushing. “Uh yeah” stammering quietly wringing your hands behind your back, heart hammering in your chest. Jackie looked between you two “well she’s coming to Jeff’s party tonight and needs a ride. Is it cool if you take her?” she said breaking the silence. “Um yeah sure,” Shauna nodded, “ Is 7 ok?” asked. “Yeah of course” she replied quickly, “ok perfect,” Shauna smiled before turning to leave. Your face soured twisting to “Jackie I can’t believe you did that!” exclaiming furiously, “Um you’re welcome!” she retorts. Huffing you cross your arms “yeah whatever.” 

“I will see you tonight!” Jackie winks.

_

You were pacing back and forth, your room was a mess half of the clothes in the closet were strewn on the floor, anxiety at an all-time high. You’re ready to go but your brain grueled over what was going to happen tonight. You’re a confident person and rarely look for approval from others but you’ve never been so desperate to impress someone in your life

You were putting earrings on when the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. Your throat tightened “now or never y/n.” Sprinting downstairs breathing in and out trying to get your bearings, you opened the door and there she was stunning in a red dress. You paused eyeing her up and down, were blown away she was glowing under the porch light, “hey are you ready?” Shauna questioned pulling you out of your stupor, “yeah let's go.” reddening and tripping out the door.

– 

The drive was awkward, the silence was deafening, you felt dizzy your brain scattering for something to say. 

“So how long have you known Jackie?” queried head turning towards her, “oh we’ve been best friends since we were kids” she answered smiled, you hummed sat back into the seat, “are you excited about tonight?” you asked, “yeah it’s gonna be fun. I’ve been needing to relax,” she chuckled, “hm yeah haven’t done anything like this in a while.” you exhaled. 

“Well are you liking it here?” questioned curiously, “it’s taking some adjusting but yeah, I actually really like the team, you’re all are so cool, I hope I can be just as good next year.” You beamed, excitement laced in your voice. You truly were looking forward to the rest of your stay in Wiskayok. “Hey don’t sell yourself short, you’re actually really good on the field you know that?”  “thank you” you stammered shocked, did she really notice you on the field? You felt like you blended in the background but this revelation made your heart soar. “You don't have to say that just cause” your cheeks reddened. “No I promise you are!” she said genuinely “well thanks.” 

3AM by Matchbox Twenty sounded from the radio. Shauna looked over at you as you began to hum, “you know this song?” she inquired sounding excited.“Yeah I went to their show last summer. They’re actually amazing live” replied, facing her, finally having something in common she continued to ask more about the band.

“Who’s your favorite member? Any of the guys or..” you were worried she’d freak out if she found out you liked girls, you didn’t want to ruin the night before it barely started. “I’m actually into the drummer, she’s super hot.” Her response surprised you.

“oh um really?” trying to walk around her answer, “yeah I actually like girls too, that isn’t a problem is it?” she looked over at you gauging your response, you’ve never felt so happy in your life, “She’s also my favorite and I also like girls too.” 

“That’s great y/n” it was the first time that night she truly met your eyes. The next song on the album came on, Shauna started to sing, and you slowly as it turned into belting. Laughter echoed in the car and you were so busy dancing in your seat that you didn’t notice her staring at you, an endearing smile on her face.

Jackie is the first person to greet you. “How did it go?”

“Better than I thought it would” you beamed, “I told you it would work out.” 

–

The both of you spent more time together, you both began spending time at each other's houses, sitting with each other at lunch, working on homework together in the library, and going to your local diner after practice. There was something more intimate there, lingering touches were exchanged, cuddling became normal and there was no hesitance to physically be close to each other anymore. 

It was the afternoon when you heard a ring at your door. You opened it to find Shauna standing there, a smile almost graced your lips before you noticed how tense she was, “hey can we talk?” she stood anxiously wringing her hands together, “sure come in” you ushered her inside, heart beginning to race. Thoughts rushing through your brain.

 what could’ve you done wrong to make Shauna act this way? 

You led her into your room, you were about to speak but she slotted her hand in yours pulling you to sit on your bed. “I just wanted to tell you.. I” she paused not able to get what she wanted to say out of her mouth, “tell me what? Did I do something wrong?” Your voice was tight, anxiety lacing your throat “no, no! Not that at all” she rushed, she gulped “I have these feelings for you and I really needed to tell you.” she whispered quickly, you barely could hear her.

 “Ok, good feelings?” you stared at her confused, frustration laced her features making you feel 10 times worse, “God what was happening” you pondered overwhelmed. You didn’t notice her shifting closer to you, until all you could see was the pink flush on her cheeks and her brown eyes you loved so much. She held your face in her hands pulling you close and kissing you on the lips. Your eyes widen but you settle, a slow rhythm matching hers. It was passionate, so much better than any of the dreams you’ve had/conjured of this moment, it didn’t feel real, butterflies fluttered in your belly. You pull away breathlessly. “Well I have the same feelings as well” you giggle. “Perfect” she whispers pulling you in again.

–

The plane crash ruined everything, you had won the state game, you were at an all-time high and everything was perfect until it wasn’t. 

Groans and complaints were heard all throughout the cabin. All of your periods had synchronized. You managed to pull resources together to tough out the distasteful situation.

You found Shauna quietly sitting on the steps of the cabin. You sat beside her settling down you pressed a kiss to her shoulder nuzzling yourself close. “How’s your day going?” she spaced out seeming to ignore you “Shauna?” she spun her head looking over to you. “How’s the murder between your legs going?” you questioned. “It sucks.” You felt bad for her, you could tell it was taking more of a toll on her than anyone else, “well I think it will be over soon” reassured her, pecking her forehead. 

“I noticed you haven’t been feeling your best just wanted to give you this” pulling out a snack bar. “Where did you get this?” “Secret stash of mine brought it to the trip and was saving it for something important.” Her eyes softened, “you don’t have to”

“I know but I care about you” you planted a kiss on your cheek then one on your lips. She broke the kiss abruptly seeming dejected.“I gotta go, I remember Jackie said she needed help with something.” Rushing to stand. You were left confused ‘weird..’ 

–

You were searching for a bucket Misty needed when voices began to echo from outside the wooden door. “You’re pregnant?!” Jackie gasped, you freeze “yeah” Shauna mumbled, “Who’s the dad?” Jackie interrogated, “Randy” Shauna whispered. “Randy Walsh! Wow I never saw that happening” she laughed, tears blurred your vision, and you felt yourself heave clamping your hand over your mouth. “Did this happen while you were seeing y/n or…” Shauna was quiet, her silence guilty. “Shauna.. Why, you know how much she cares about you.” Jackie chastised, disappointed that her friend would do this to you. “I was plastered and we just got caught up in the moment…” 

You couldn’t listen anymore, you silently sneaked away.

–

You walked into the woods, tears streaming down your face letting out the sobs you had been holding back. The thought of Randy all over her while she had the audacity to treat you like she loved you making you ill. 

You hear footsteps trailing behind you. “Hey I’ve been looking all over for you,” Shauna approached you, but you didn’t respond. “Hey what’s wrong” she reaches out softly holding your wrist and turning you but you rip yourself away from her grasp. 

“You’re pregnant,” said frankly. She stepped back “what I.. no” she denied shaking her head. 

Anger coursed through you, the nerve she had to deceive you. “Don’t lie to me,” you stepped forward. “I heard everything.” emphasizing each word. “You were spying on me” Shauna scoffed angrily. “Spying! I was busy doing my job and it’s not like you were trying to be quiet.” you retorted sharply. 

“What happened the night of Jeff’s party?” she couldn’t meet your gaze, “what happened Shauna with Randy?” furiously leaning in her space, “it wasn’t Randy..” she paused, “what..” Furrowing your eyebrows, there couldn’t have been anyone else. Most of the people at the party were in relationships… but the realization slowly hit you, she ‘cheated’ on you and hooked up with her best friend's boyfriend behind her back.

Your face soured, bile pooled in your mouth. This isn’t the girl you fell for it couldn’t be.

 “Jeff.. in his car” jaw-dropping at her admission. “You can’t tell Jackie” she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes “you’re thinking about her right now?” you stammered incredulously motioning towards the cabin. 

Fuming was an understatement, you were on the verge of strangling the girl in front of you. You were speechless, Shauna Shipman the girl who spent long nights cuddling in your bed, the girl who secretly drew pictures of you between classes, the girl who defended and promised you were hers broke your heart. Guilt was written all over her face. 

“I was just a toy you could play with until you got bored right?” scoffing exasperated, “that's not true.” She reached out to you, tears falling and lips quivering, desperate to not let you go. “I promise it isn’t” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling like an idiot. You were right this was too good to be true. “You’re so fucked.” you bellowed speeding past her. 

[yandere-fics]

Theanna's NSFW Alphabet

♡ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) ♡

Aftercare involves her asking a maid to draw a bath for the both of you, of course she keeps you both wrapped up in robes as the maid runs the bath because while she's an exhibitionist slightly she doesn't want anyone to view either of your bodies. If there's not time for a bath then she'll just wrap you up and carry you wherever she was going so you can doze off on her lap.

♡ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) ♡

Her tongue since you seem to enjoy it so much whenever she's eating you out. It always makes you so loud even though you don't want to be loud because the councilors are literally right outside the door waiting to be let in while she insisted on undressing you and since she doesn't allow anyone to look at your body they had to leave the room.

Your thighs, it's like all this woman does is think about eating pussy, she also doesn't mind eating ass either if you don't have one, she just wants to have her mouth on a hole, it's like it's what she was born to do, anyways getting back to the main point, she loves the way your thighs try to close around her head and how easy it is to force her apart.

♡ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) ♡

It's obviously going to be happening on her face or her fingers, if it's on her fingers then she'll lick them clean and then possible go down there to get a full taste because what she got from her fingers wasn't enough which leads to her eating you out like five times until you're trying to push her away because you literally feel like you might die if she does anymore, then she'll chuckle and call for a maid to bring in some food or water for you. In the omegaverse she'll give you her knot when she's in rut or you're in heat but otherwise is mostly the same and wants her mouth on you.

♡ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) ♡

She likes threatening to make her advisors clap when she makes you orgasm if you don't stop fidgeting on her lap and trying to get away from it, of course she's not actually going to do this but it's cute when you lose the strength to fight and she laughs a bit because all the advisors in the room having to hear this and pretend they heard nothing are all very very tense.

♡ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ♡

She had a few dalliances in her teen years but it's been a very long time since then and most of them are dead because a lot of her allies in that time period either died or betrayed her(excluding the loser squad and a few advisors who were on her side). She a bit rusty but she picks it up very quickly again.

♡ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) ♡

Anything where her head is between your legs, she particularly is a fan of you sitting on her face because you always try not to suffocate her at first but eventually your legs can't hold themselves anymore and she gets what she wants which is very nice in her opinion.

♡ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) ♡

She makes a few jokes here and there, mostly about how you can't escape her and how funny she finds it that you even tried in the first place, or she'll laugh about how the advisors can't say shit when she's fingering you in the conference room and then licking her fingers off. It's all a bit of a joke to her actually.

♡ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ♡

She doesn't grow enough hair that she needs to shave, she only has a bit of arm hair on her and the rest is a very very thin fuzz you can't even see. She doesn't care what hair you have really but if you do have pubic hair she might suck it into her mouth to make sure she gets all the flavor of you.(I hate myself for writing that and if she did that to me our relationship would actually be over.)

♡ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) ♡

It's not intimate because she keeps taunting you about how you'll never be able to escape her and how weak you look under here, even when you're queen and you've been cooperative and have never tried to escape she's still taunting you like "it's good that you've always known escape from me is impossible."

♡ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) ♡

She only gets herself off in the omegaverse, usually jerking it as she eats you out otherwise she just doesn't bother, masturbating would only be taking more time away, valuable time she could be using to eat you out, she is not letting even herself take away from her valuable meal time.

♡ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) ♡

Has a master thing going on but it's not towards you, it's towards everyone else, she loves that she can just do with with you everywhere and no one can say a damn thing about it, of course she would never let them see your body but everyone hears you and obviously knows that underneath the coat she's draped over you, she is fingering you. She's also very very into overstimulation.

♡ L = Location (favorite places to do the do) ♡

Anywhere is game but especially the council room if she's sure she has enough time to do it there. She might start doing it when you during a meeting and then make everyone leave the room so she can actually strip you away from prying eyes, have you for a couple hours, and then everyone has to stand outside for two whole hours waiting to be allowed back in. Or she might just cover you up and start fingering you right there as they all try desperately to pretend this isn't happening and their life doesn't suck.

♡ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) ♡

Knowing she has enough time to fully satisfy her desire for you is what gets her going. She's always down for you but she doesn't always have enough time which means that she's going to suppress that desire but the moment she knows she's about to have enough free time she's going for it even if it's towards the end of a meeting and she still should be technically busy.

♡ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) ♡

She won't let anyone see either of your bodies unless it's someone she's sharing you with but if she's sharing you it has to be with someone she views as having equal importance to her in which case the only two people who have that status and are capable of sharing are The Evil Dragon, or Raphael her most important advisor, they might be allowed to see you naked.

♡ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) ♡

Even in the omegaverse she never lets you give. She just thinks she'd be bothered if you were to give because then it's more time where she can't taste you or if you are 69ing then you're not fully paying attention to what her tongue is doing and either case is just simply unacceptable, she needs your full undivided attention on what she's doing.

♡ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) ♡

She never rushes things and she always takes her time, don't worry though even if she's being slow you're still walking away with this experience with more orgasms then you think the human body should possibly be able to handle.

♡ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) ♡

She doesn't do quickies, it's all or nothing with her and if she knows she won't be able to fully satisfy her desire for you then there's no point even starting anything because it's going to just make her a bit pissy that she had to stop being with you in order to attend some ball that she's supposed to be knighting the candidates that Abigail allowed to pass the test at.

♡ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) ♡

She's always down to experiment just a little bit as long as in that experiment she can still taste you. Ainsley might bring her nipple clamps that electrocute you a bit just to make you squirt on her face just the slightest bit harder. She still prefers to stick to the tried and true method of eating you out until you start sobbing though.

♡ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) ♡

She's not going for as long as someone like Ellie but she's still going for quite awhile, she is not stopping ever until she's had your for at the very least five hours, though she may give you a pause in the middle for food and water. So her stamina is pretty good.

♡ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) ♡

No she prefers to use her fingers and hands on you if you have afab genitals, if you have a dick though then she's going to use a fleshlight on you(only if you tell her you don't want her eating your ass of course) and she'll get one of the really really weird ones that Ainsley makes so it's probably better to just let her eat your ass instead cause you don't want to know what Ainsley might come up with in that demented head of hers.

♡ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) ♡

She's a bit teasing if you aren't giving her what she wants, if you're squirming away from her she'll let you squirm just enough so her tongue is on you and driving you crazy but not giving you any real release so that way you'll realize squirming is only hurting you in the long run, it's best not to run from the pleasure because it'll only prolong your suffering.

♡ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) ♡

She comments on everything the whole time she's down there from how much you're squirming to every tiny sound you make to how she's going to make you queen and there's nothing you can do about it, look how weak you are under her right now, she also makes sounds like this is the most delicious thing she has ever eaten, like all the chefs in the palace can be fired because this is all she needs for the rest of her days to satisfy her.

♡ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) ♡

She gets a little bit turned on feeding you, it's not that she's into feederism or anything, she's not going to make you gain a lot of weight but if you're skinny she's gonna want to feed you enough to make you a bit chubbier and if you're already chubby she'll feed you enough to make sure you stay that way. If you're fit Abigail at least lets you jogging lightly, the most Theanna lets you do as queen is walk with her and dances with her are parties.

♡ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) ♡

She's got no chest and her legs aren't the best but her arms are very very nice to look at, very muscular and she's got a bit of flab on her stomach so sitting on her lap after she overstimulates you to the brink of insanity is very very nice.

♡ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) ♡

Not super high, don't get her wrong she loves having you but she can go days without initiating because if she knows she doesn't have time to actually do this thoroughly this so will force any horny thought she has to just disappear, or she'll start fucking you towards the end of a council meeting because sure she's technically busy now but she has hours of freetime after this so what's the harm is starting just a bit early.

♡ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) ♡

She's not going to fall asleep quick afterwards but she's going to want you to fall asleep quick afterwards. She still has plenty of work that needs to get done but she loves walking into a council meeting with you asleep on her lap as the advisors have to keep their mouth shut about the entire thing. Plus it's just cute to have her darling maid and future queen asleep on her lap.

[callias-w]

I really like Yuma's character, and I think so far, he's one of my favorite game protagonists.

I've only played up until chapter 2 of Raincode, when the peacekeepers appear, so I have no idea what happens next.

He's genuinly a good person. He goes around helping people who might need it, and feels frustrated/sad when he gets things wrong. Like when the nun of the church asks him if he can go listen to people's problems, he encounters this girl in a hoodie who is "happy". At first, I got the answer wrong, didn't think much of it, but then Yuma looked so upset for not have been able to help her, and I felt awful. He says something along the lines of "I don't think that's what she needed to hear… will she be ok?"

So obviously I had to retry. Yuma goes back, notices that something's going on with the woman, and asks her if something we cant see is hurting her. She tries to play it off, saying if she waits long enough, it'll go way. But Yuma insists, that she doesn't have to be alone, If she's scared she can go to the detective agency, that they'll help her, that there's no reason to do this alone. He says this with such conviction, and such genuine worry, scared for the woman's safety. And beceause im a sensitive bitch I almost fucking cried. I felt so relieved I retried that interaction. And Yuma looked calm.

He has the power to share, I believe. I play in spanish so idk what that power in named in english, but basically what happens is that if he holds hand with someone, he can share their power. It's pretty cool to be honest, but what that power entails is that he… can't do things alone. He needs people to also help him, and that makes him feel powerless aswell. Sure he can go around and help people for no reason but he can't bring himself to rely on others without feeling… useless. And he's so fucking real for that. He tries to fight these thoughts away, telling himself that he'll figure things out on his own, but… at the same time, he's using Shinigami's power, not his. What good is a detective, when he can't solve mysteries alone?

And so, his struggle of why he's a detective. Or why he wanted to be a detective so badly in the first place. To find justice, he tells himself, but a detective's goal isn't to impart justice. It's to find the truth. So Shinigami also imparts a kind of… justice. And eye for an eye, kind of justice, that Yuma despises. They're not only dying. You're killing them. And that's no difference from what Amaterasu corp is doing, since they're picking people and just executing them without a chance of redemption. Sure they're criminals, these people hiding the truth, but that… doesn't make them less human. And the only one that seems to notice this, is Yuma. Everyone else is so… out of touch. Halara for instance, they don't even flinch at the sight of a corpse, for them it's just another day at work. Desuhiko can't stand the sight of a corpse, but he's also terribly out of touch with humanity, like he isn't going around taking advantage of his skills to harrass women or fake anything.

Also he kinda sucks working on his own given he has no clue of what he's doing.

So yeah I like Yuma a lot. I'm hoping he resolves his internal struggles in the future and decides between this inhuman detective live, stops playing detective, or makes a path of his own.

[stanleyvampire14]

Hi! To clear up some confusion because multiple people keep asking me this; “Who is the Emerson family?” Or at least a member of them TW FOR MENTIONS OF DEATH AND SEMI-VIOLENT SCENES

Let’s start with Mr. Emerson himself! John Emerson!

John is a policeman that usually either gets stationed in the neighborhood he lives in, or he goes around patrolling other neighborhoods in the town. He’s been in the police business for a while (years) and he likes doing it! He loves helping people! However he does have a side to him that can and will kill you (or at least seriously injure you) if you hurt the people he cares about, mainly his family. His immune system isn’t very great and he gets sick a lot around the flu season, which kinda sucks, but he refuses to not go to work, which kind of worries Mary (and Ryder as well). It’ll get to the point where Mary forces him to stay in bed, she will literally wrap him in a blanket to make him stay. He is very loyal (COUGH COUGH. @lord-of-the-bundle-of-sticks @todds-diary @that-fruitier-emo) and we love him for that. He taught Ryder basic manners and to actually respect women, despite most fathers at the time not caring about the latter, which is why Ryder is so insistent on teaching that to the other kids (island kids and daycare kids). Ryder really looks up to him, even after the island, although he’s more subtle about it after the island because he’s more reserved in general. Overall a great guy, I’d talk to him about my problems and he’d hug me as I rambled.

Next is Mrs. Emerson, Mary Emerson!

She is a saint I swear…and pretty…Beautiful even…Anyways! She’s a daycare worker, she made her own daycare because the others in the area kinda sucked in her opinion (discrimination issues among various types of people + “what about the poor people with children :( we have to help them somehow”) she will literally give discounts near the holidays please go to her daycare. Literally the most comforting person aside from Ryder himself. She doesn’t care who you are (and she might know who you ARE before you realize, in Ryder’s case…🏳️‍🌈) she will be there for you, it doesn’t matter how hard you breakdown, she will find a way to comfort you. She says that she doesn’t have a favorite child in the daycare, but she definitely does (it’s technically Ryder but he works with her so he doesn’t count) nobody knows who it is and the kids try to play guessing games, and everytime she leaves the room to do something, the children repeatedly ask Ryder who’s the favorite and he doesn’t know either, but he says that he likes Klaus a lot (@lord-of-the-bundle-of-sticks oc) and Ira (will reveal all of the daycare children soon enough, also Ira is they/them). She taught Ryder how to cook and somehow Ryder surpassed her skills in cooking, but Ryder always says she’s better, because he IS a mama’s boy and he can’t bring himself to make his mum sad ever. I just wanna hug her and melt hhgfssmhgh….Oh I love her so…💚💚💚 She’s my wife but also not- is there a way someone can be aroace and want to kiss a woman at the same time (I’m aroace and I really like physical affection it’s my favorite)

Lastly, my favorite little guy (he is 16, he is not little) Ryder Emerson!

Despite what all the kids think, he’s not actually an angel, he does typical teenager stuff (sneaking out at night, occasionally drinking because of Lust, and rotting in his room for months after the island! Y’know, totally usual behavior for teens please don’t rot in your rooms that’s bad for your mental health) and he might’ve indirectly caused a few deaths on the island, but we aren’t talking about that- He scarred Gluttony because he killed Sloth and Ryder obviously didn’t like that he bit Jack and Maurice out of self defense, and he might’ve smacked Roger on the head on the island at least twice…He got tired of them eventually. I swear he’s overall a good person, that island just really messed him up mentally and physically. In the fight between Jack and Ralph at the end, Ryder ended up getting scars from Maurice because Maurice slashed him with his spear, meaning to stab him (it was Jack’s command and Maurice was kind of a little gone). Speaking of the Merridew kid, he and Ryder are therapy partners/friends together due to their therapist thinking that exposed therapy would be a good thing for them, which it kind of was. Ryder got so much better after talking to everyone that survived on the island, even though he still feels iffy with some of them (Ralph, Roger, Maurice, Samneric all technically betrayed him in some way). His relationships with the sins (also @lord-of-the-bundle-of-sticks ocs) got so much better, although Gluttony’s was…Not good for a while, they eventually forgave each other in their own way, I’d like to say it started here, which I believe would take place a couple months after they got off the island: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52156768/chapters/131921551

Thank you for listening to my rambling, if you did.

Have a gallery of them, I really do love them…💙💚🩷 (I accidentally made it a timeline of events, oops)

This post was mostly for @cve-th3mvsic , but I hope this clears some questions up! ^_^

I will be linking this on my pinned post, just in case it gets lost in the massive amounts of posts I reblog and such.



[inklessletter]

I think I've seen this film before (and I didn't like the ending)

Read it on AO3

Both Robin and Steve know that Dustin shipped them. Hard. He was the first one to actually acknowledge how awesome Steve was, and how much of a badass Robin was, so obviously, he was the most insistent on getting them together. The fact that Robin and Steve spent all of their time together, had internal jokes, teased each other constantly, Steve drove her around, had dinner at Robin's a few times a week and, practically shared the same braincell, hadn't definitely helped for Dustin's annoying dynamic to spread to the party. Soon, everyone else was dropping hints about when they were going to publicly announce that they were a couple.

It's something Robin dealt with also at home. Steve didn't lie when he proudly said "parents love me, I'm a catch," because Robin's parents actually do love him. They also seemed eager for their daughter to tell them that they were dating.

Her parents are something she can deal with on her own, but after two apocalypses together, and frankly quite bored of the same joke over and over again, Robin started noticing something in Steve. And see, Robin has a lot of great qualities, but if there's something above all that, it's that she's wicked smart.

So, she started paying attention to their tease, trying to understand why this dynamic was now affecting his very much platonic soulmate out of the sudden, and she fully understood a new layer of Steve.

And fucking hated it.

Although they shared almost everything, she didn't go straight to Steve to talk about it; she knew him well enough to know beforehand not to press him into talking about something he wasn't ready to share yet, even with her.

So the next time they teased them (soon enough, because, c'mon, get new material, bozos) she dropped the smile and asked them, begged them to just stop. It wasn't funny anymore, if it ever was.

And their stupid kids were, well, kids, and also stupid, and didn't pick up. So they continued to tease them, and Robin's patience started to grow thin. But she kept repeating to herself: they're kids, they're just kids, they're dumb by default. So she kept asking them to please, please, drop it.

And see, she can deal with stupid kids, but she drew the line on inconsiderate shitheads (and after two years of saying no, Robin reconsidered their idiocy; they were being plain mean now). So, when Dustin pried about how boring it was that they kept their relationship a secret, in front of the whole gang, again, Robin snapped.

"Who is it, Dustin?" Robin asked, curious expression.

"Who is what?"

"Who are you crushing on, me or Steve?"

"What the hell, Robin? I don't have a crush on any of you!" Dustin said, almost offended. "What's wrong with you?"

"You see, Dusty-bun, after a year and a half of prying non-stop about how crazy is that we are not sucking face and absolutely not believing it, my guesses are that you consider that one of us is so painfully irresistible that we must be obviously lying when we tell you that we are not together. So, cut the jealous crap and please tell me whose name you whisper at night, huh? Is it me or Steve? I'm dying of curiosity here."

Dustin's cheeks went bright pink almost instantly. There was a brief silence in which Robin appreciated their faces with a smug smirk. Some of them were gapping, some holding a laughter. Nancy looked away with a tight smile. Eddie's face was priceless, he stopped whatever he was doing to attentively watch the upcoming scene. Only Steve looked really annoyed.

"What? Ew, gross. I don't whisper your name at night-"

"Steve's, then?"

"No! Robin, what's wrong with you!"

"Oh my god, look at you, you're blushing! You must definitely like him! Oh, is it both?"

"I don't like him , or you! I've got a girlfriend!"

"You're so red, Dustin. I just—I guess I just don't believe you."

Robin's smile grew wider when the rest of the party started picking on Dustin, too.

"I am just saying that you two are really close, there's obviously a vibe between you two, and it's fine! I don't know why you keep denying it. Even I can feel your electricity!" Dustin looked at Steve, who raised his eyebrows, clearly upset. "Is it because his ex is here? Nancy's over it—"

"Please, don't drag me into this."

"—and what you just implied is disgusting!"

And at this point of Dustin's rambling, her smile went off.

"Which part is disgusting, exactly?"

"That—That I think of you at night or whatever!" Dustin shouted, all dramatic.

"I mean, that's pretty disgusting," Lucas added.

"So, you don't have dirty thoughts, like, ever," Eddie muted, holding a mischievous smile.

"Why would I have dirty thoughts about them?"

"I don't know, why would we have dirty thoughts about each other?"

"Can we just stop saying 'dirty thoughts'?" Mike asked, grossed out.

"Because it's a cliché!" Dustin yelled, standing in front of her, suddenly, and completely ignoring Mike. "It's bound to happen! You're always in Steve's orbit, and you're getting pretty defensive about this, you must have a reason to—"

"To what? To not be jumping on his dick right now?"

At the mention of Steve's dick, the whole gang reacted. The youngest pulled disgusting faces, but clearly amused by the turn of this conversation. Eddie was no longer hiding how much fun this was, and he was giving his full attention. Nancy looked around, cheeks pink, not really knowing how to react. Steve, though, was mortified.

After the fuzz of complaints and comments stopped, Robin spoke again.

"I have a reason, though."

Steve looked at her.

"Robin-"

"And the reason is I don't like him that way, and he doesn't like me that way, and that should be enough. And begging you to stop just once should be also enough for you to be respectful about it, but you're not. It's beyond annoying now, it's hurtful, Dustin."

She spoke softer now, and stood from her spot.

Steve muttered "fuck this," and left the room. Eddie followed him. There was a charged silence after that.

"I know you maybe don't see it, but you are implying all the time that there's no other reason for us to be friends if it is not to get in each other's pants, like we have nothing else to offer. And maybe it is not my place to say, but Steve has spent the last few years trying to prove himself right all the time, and he cares about what you think because he loves you. So much. And he's not gonna tell you this, like, in a million years, and I'm breaking an unspoken vow of best friend here telling you, and I'll atone for it later, but if you keep going on with this crap he won't ever stop feeling worthless of being anyone's friend if there's nothing to get out of it."

"Robin, you know that's not what I mean." Dustin's voice was apologetic, sad.

"I know, but we asked you to stop, and you're not letting this go. This is not a riddle you have to figure out, this is just—"

Robin thought that maybe it was the moment for her to come out. If she told everyone now that she was a lesbian, they would drop it for good. She'd been thinking about it for a while now, but she didn't want to do it like this. It just didn't feel right. It wasn't.

Nancy was gazing at her with a knowing look, lips pursed. Robin didn't really tell Nancy about herself, but she seemed to understand. She was smart like that.

"Besides, I am—"

"Right. You're right," Nance stepped in. They shared a look, and Robin briefly smiled. "I think you owe them an apology."

Dustin looked bewildered. The kids were silent. Robin could read in their faces that they never thought about it this way. It took a few seconds for Dustin to recover, and Robin could swear she saw his eyes getting glassy.

"I'm sorry," Dustin said, low voice. "I'm going to—I'm going to talk to Steve."

Dustin left. Shortly after, the rest of the kids followed him, leaving Robin and Nancy alone.

"Steve is lucky to have you," Nancy said, with a soft smile, looking her straight in the eye. Robin felt her cheeks flush red. She looked down.

"I'm the lucky one, here," Robin said. "Thank you. For... for stopping me."

And then Robin's world crashed, because Nancy cupped her cheek, softly, and pressed a small kiss on the cheek.

"I've got your back."

With a smile and candid eyes, Nancy left the room, and Robin let herself fall where she was previously sitting, sighing dramatically.

She needed to talk to Steve.

Right now.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

[boy-in-the-stars]

is it I back for more shitty long scollace prompts 😈😈😈 I'm so glad u liked the first ones cause like ik they're cringe 😭😭 anyway sorry again for how fucking long this is:

- I like to imagine they have a lot of movie nights cause scott just orders a ton and still rents movies from that place I forget the name of where Kim works 😭 most nights acott would prolly pick the movie but sometimes wallace gets a chance. idrk what kinda movies he would like but I feel at least once he would waste his turn to purposefully rent a movie he knows scott would hate just to see him suffer <3 true love. in his defense he had to sit through the sonic movie (or if it takes place in 2004 then sonic ova) at least a hundred times.

- I don't think scott would particularly be scared of horror movies but whenever they watch one wallace would definitely tease and try to freak him out. scott would get very annoyed and insist his teasing isn't working and in his defense it isn't!! it's a shitty 80s slasher film or at least he thinks until all the lights are off and there's weird noises outside. suddenly he's tugging on wallace and holding onto him without even realizing.

^^ I j wanna make a point bc I don't want this to come off as like babying or ooc or even fetishizing cause i think scott could definitely handle horror movies. I don't think he's a horror fanatic but he has respect for the classics. it's like wallaces relentless teasing after an especially scary horror movie he hasn't seen, in the middle of the night, with particular weird noises outside. it's like a rly specific situation cause he's usually fine with horror. I j wanted to makebthat clear cause ik there's like a lot of weird fanfics where scotts like an uwu soft boy and. ew. i don't mean it like that. bleh

- after they're official I feel like their dynamic would basically stay the same cause cmon they were pretty much dating before. only difference is now wallace gets to full on make out with him and give him a little more forehead kisses than he did before. at first I feel like scott would act annoyed or maybe not annoyed but dismissive of the little kisses not cause he didn't like them but bc he acted like he didn't like them before they're dating and he feels the need to keep it up. he doesn't wanna give wallace that satisfaction of I told u so u obviously enjoyed them. but either when scotts sick or even tired or whatever wallace gives him a little kiss and Scott pathetically is like another plsss ☹️☹️☹️. Wallace is like oh? now we like my kisses?? with his little smug ass face. when scott fully wakes up he still barely admits to liking them but now doesnt completely ignore them (he loves them). after like a week I think scott would give up the bit and embrace them like kiss it better?? good luck kiss?? goodnight kiss?? morning kiss?? greedy bitch

sorry for how much I write I j wanna like makebmyself clear plus I rlly suck with words so I hope this comes across ok. sorry these are worse but ofc I have more cause of the autism ☹️☹️ hope u enjoyed reading this fucking novel 😭😭

these are all so cute anon!! don’t you even worry, i haven’t been getting many prompts so these mean a lot to me. the first one shot (haircut) should be up as soon as my comic artist finishes the panels!!

shout out to @literallylee btw, they’re drawing some comics for the fics and they’re literally amazing, can’t wait for you guys to see them!!

[hoodoo12]

Jobby

Seeing the tour sparked an idea . . .

NSFW, mostly PWP. Beetlejuice x Dewey Finn x gen neutral reader! Established throuple.

Both the Bman and Dewey are Collette-flavored.

Enjoy!

You’d gotten used to lots of loud noises in the apartment: guitar (played pretty well), drums (played poorly but with enthusiasm), video games of mostly the first-person shooter type, and the occasional “discussions” that were “passionate.” And snoring. All of that was a typical day in a household with a rocker who had a part time job as a teacher and a ghost who had a full time job (he said) as a bio-exorcist.

You had no idea what a bio-exorcist’s job actually entailed, since Beetlejuice mostly seemed to hang out at Dewey’s place.

But that was neither here nor there at the moment. Silence in the apartment didn’t necessarily mean peaceful, especially if the two of them were giving each other the old passive-aggressive ignoring each other like they were five year olds throwing a combined tantrum.

It could mean Dewey was asleep and Beetlejuice was leaving him alone, however. So instead of calling for either of them, you moved quietly from the door down the hallway, where it opened up into the living room. 

Dewey was on the couch but most definitely not sleeping. On the floor in front of him, on his knees, kneeled the ghost. While Beetlejuice had discarded his jacket and his suspenders had been pushed off his shoulders, every other piece of his standard ensemble was present. Dewey’s t-shirt, however, was rucked high on his chest, all the way up to his collar bones. Even from across the room you could tell his nipples had had attention; they were darker than normal and still pebbled. His pants were turned inside out with his underwear caught inside; all of that mass of clothing happened to still be attached to one ankle.

Neither noticed you spying. Eyes closed, Dewey’s head tipped back to the cushion behind him. His free hand splayed on his own bare thigh, his fingers leaving indents in the flesh; the other had threaded into the mess of Beetlejuice’s hair. Beetlejuice himself had both arms under Dewey’s thighs, wrapped around his legs, hoisting his hips slightly upward. It was a position designed to give him better access; you knew that because the specter had wrapped you up in the same hold when he used his mouth on you. Dewey had managed to lift one leg over Beetlejuice’s shoulder. From past experience you also knew that was a common trick Dewey did to keep his lover close while being sucked off.

Soft wet sounds matched the smooth bobbing of Beetlejuice’s head. Dewey matched them with moans, a combination that could have been obscenely lewd if the two of them weren’t so obviously enjoying themselves.

To see Dewey, someone who hid his low self-esteem with a sour-grapes mentality like he didn’t actually care, simply allowing this to happen was a big step. Typically he’d insist on something mutual; his self-worth could be tied to making sure he gave, even if giving went against his own wants and needs. For him to sit back and relish the attention made you smile.  

Minutely, Dewey relaxed. His hand gave a little push downward on Beetlejuice’s head, and the specter began blowing him again.

And for Beetlejuice, as crude and as demanding as the ghost could be, for him to be so attentive without immediate satisfaction was a big step forward too. From the flush that had bloomed on Dewey’s chest, he’d been going down on him for a while, not a speedy wham-bam-thank-you-man-now-it’s-my-turn kind of ambush. Slow and deliberate, his head moved steadily and you could only imagine the amount of spit that pooled under Dewey’s legs. At least they put a blanket down first.

It wasn’t often sex in the household was a twosome. Even if it started between just two, the third party would be welcomed in. You found that being able to watch, however, gave you vicarious arousal in the pit of your stomach. To see the Dewey and Beetlejuice so soft, so intimate, was a special treat. Even if your hand did wander down between your legs.

Dewey gasped a little louder and dropped his head. “Oh, I-I’m gonna come!” he said in a strained voice.

Beetlejuice paused at the top of his motion, giving Dewey a moment to collect himself. Although you were across the room, you knew the feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, seconds away from ejaculation. You knew that even though he stopped, Beetlejuice couldn’t hold completely still; his tongue was most likely flicking the head of the cock between his lips. You didn’t know if Dewey was so far gone that minor licking stimulation would be enough to send him over the edge--

fin--

You wasted the opportunity to step back, out of sight, during those seconds. Since you’d held your breath in anticipation and didn’t, when Dewey opened his eyes he saw you standing there.

Instead of acting embarrassed or ashamed they’d be caught, he stretched out the hand not tangled in Beetlejuice’s hair to you. Quickly, you crossed the room and settled beside him on the couch. Your arousal increased as though the carnal activity of the two of them fed you.

Beetlejuice’s eyes had been closed too, but at the shifting of the cushions he lifted them to yours. His typically smokey blue eyes were almost completely eclipsed by his pupils, showcasing his own lust as well. If you turned to look at Dewey, you knew his eyes would look the same. You’d marveled before how their eyes matched. But you couldn’t draw your gaze away from Beetlejuice; his lips formed a perfect seal around Dewey’s cock and, as you’d expected, his lower jaw and Dewey’s pubic hair were shiny and soaked with excess spit. As the specter continued with his eyes locked on yours, his cheeks hollowed and relaxed during various parts of his up-and-down cycle.

“He looks so good, sucking you off,” you said, reaching forward to push your hand through the the rat’s nest that was Beetlejuice’s hair as well.

“Mmm-hmm,” Dewey agreed. Apparently those four stuttered words he’d uttered were the last he could string together.

Beetlejuice hummed too. You’d have expected him to throw his voice or switch to a hand--not one holding Dewey’s legs, of course! Just a third hand from out of wherever!--on Dewey’s cock so he could answer you properly. He didn’t. For him to be so intently focused at the task at hand, er, in mouth made you smile at the two of them again.

You hadn’t meant to interrupt and didn’t want to distract. Still, you put your head down on Dewey’s chest, your ear over his heart, and watched. Beetlejuice didn’t drop his gaze, keeping it firmly on yours even as his pace increased. With Dewey’s heart rate matching the suck and pull at his cock, even though literally nothing was happening to you the sound in your ear and the ghost’s direct stare made your lower stomach and groin tingle. You wouldn’t have ever thought you had a voyeuristic bent, but you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

This time when Dewey announced he was going to come, Beetlejuice didn’t stop. Finally breaking eye contact with you, he took Dewey all the way to his balls and held there. If you’d had your hand under his jaw you were sure you’d have felt him still moving his tongue against the cock buried in his mouth, but you stayed as still as the other two.

After a moment when everything was completely still, Dewey groaned loudly as every muscle tensed. Beetlejuice remained frozen, you didn’t move, both of you allowing Dewey to enjoy his orgasm to the fullest. Only after he began to relax again did the specter gently back off his cock.

Shiny and throbbing in time with his heartbeat, Dewey’s cock fell back to his dripping pubic hair. Knowing he could be extra sensitive after he came, you made a mental note to get up to retrieve a tissue in a moment. Before then, you moved your hand from the side of Beetlejuice’s head and brought your fingers down along his jawline. It was slick with spit.

Beetlejuice grinned and kissed your palm, then made a show of wiping his beard in your hand.

“Gimme a kiss, baby? For a job well done?”

You leaned forward to give him his reward. Just before your lips met his, however, he said,

“I meant Dewey. But you’ll do.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him anyway, dipping your tongue between his lips to savor the earthy flavor combination of him and Dewey mixed together.

“I bet Dewey’ll kiss you if you get a Kleenex,” you suggested.

Beetlejuice sighed, “I have to do everything around here,” but there was no irritation behind it. He pushed away from the couch and went to find a box.

Splayed and mostly undressed, Dewey hadn’t opened his eyes yet. His cock had started becoming softer, with a thin line of post-climax come oozing from the tip.

“Gonna take a nap, Finn?”

“Sounds good,” he murmured.

“Well, clean up first and then you can snooze. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

Sleepily he asked, “Is it my birthday?”

“Nope. Just happy Dewey Finn day.”

He cracked open his eyelids just enough to see you, smiled and nodded.

nope

(that would be the end, except Beetlejuice overheard the whole, “happy Dewey Finn day” and shouts from the other room, “What about me?!” So you agree to take care of his “needs”--which is always the same thing, a little suck, a little fuck, a little desperate discussion as to if he should come inside you or on you--while Dewey naps. Then later in the evening, both of them ambush  you and give you the best spiritual rogering you’ve ever had.)

[lulaypp]

Lulaypp's Foliage of Lost Fics #1: Psychedelic

Note: Welcome to the first of few. The first of my unfinished/abandoned/kind-of-terrible fic dump collection thing. This is one I love a lot, the concept and torture was fun. But the pacing and decline of mental state had never sat well with me, and a few touches goes into ooc territory, and some lines ended up being weird.

Details of Fic: Nearly 7k words, Batfam Fandom, Jason-centric (and really there is barely anyone else around aside from some nameless villain), Whump with Emotions. Contains Hallucinations (ranging between just strange and gruesome), Non-consensual Drug Use (a heavy theme throughout the fic), Torture, Electric Torture, Broken Bones, Blood & Injuries (vivid, some hallucinated and some real), Sleep Deprivation

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

Jason ground his teeth against the cry that wanted to tear out of him. The sharp, painful prickling insistently charged throughout his body as he convulsed uncontrollably. He tried to still his limbs against the spasms; locking his joints, clenching his fist or pressing down onto the cold metal surface, keeping his eyes screwed shut and pushing his head back into the table. Predictably, none of it worked, and the involuntary jerks alone were starting to hurt horribly. Mix that with the steady flow of electricity thrown into him through the table he was strapped to, his broken bones forcibly shifting with each convulsion despite the restraints holding down his limbs, the searing headache that had been plaguing him for far too long, and his lungs feeling tighter and tighter as seconds ticked by. 

He struggled to get a breath in, air coming in slivers before forced back out. A whine slipped past his throat as the pieces of bones in his broken leg moved. He wasn't sure if he was pulling against the cuffs around his wrists or they were just happily jerking away on their own. 

When the electicity finally stopped, he gasped, chest still feeling tight, but he could at least breathe and that is good right? 

It definitely shouldn't hurt this much. 

"Identities," a voice boomed into his ears making him wince at the sheer volume off it. 

Jason wet his lips, tasting the iron of a split, and coughed out a glob of blood before answering, "Wha' 'akes you thin' they-" He was forced to paused to suck in a painful breath and he knew that something was really wrong with his body. "-that they have... i'ntities." 

"Answer it, Red Hood or we'll go for five minutes." 

He tried to not flinch at the threat, rolling his unmasked eyes. "Fine fine. Batman is Bats One. Nightwing is Bats Two. Bats Four is, obviously, your's truly. Or maybe it isn't obvious since Three came in after-" 

The was a sigh in response, quickly followed by a backhand. Apparently, this guy lacks a sense of humour. How was it that Dick managed to win all the villains over by cracking jokes? How unfair. "Five minutes it is." 

Jason closed his eyes against the erratic thundering dread in his ears and heart. A scream tore out of him as strong volts charged into him. His bare back felt like it was burnt from where it was directly touching the table. He struggled to jerk out of the leather cuffs holding his limbs as he spasmed and gasped. His heart and lungs felt like crumbling and bursting at the same time. Seconds passed, minutes. He must have blacked out at one point as when he dragged his eyes open, the electricity had stopped, and he was certain it hadn't been five minutes yet. Unless if his internal clocked was far too messed up by now. Which, while not too surprising, just showed how long he had been here. 

"Identities," the voice demanded again. 

It was a bit of a struggle for him to turn his strapped-to-the-table head, but he managed it and glared at the guy. He was far too tired for coherent words. 

"Still a no? How about we switch up the power. That was two, so does four sounds good to you?" 

Jason wanted to curse the man out but only managed a tired snarl. His breaths were coming in stuttered, laboured gasps, his heart was trying to break out of his already partially broken ribcage and his brain could hardly process any coherent thoughts. 

"Power five for two then." 

That was the only warning he got before the volts started again. His back arched from the table as a breathless scream-whine trailed out of him, his vision going white. He clawed, at the metal suface, at the cuffs, trying to get away. The bliss of unconsciousness was quickly approaching when it stopped, giving him several seconds of break before starting up again. He trashed against the restraints, scrambling and clawing and tugging. He barely felt the wounds around his wrists reopening and his sprained ankle screeching in the midst of the flooding electricity. The volts would stop periodically before running again, successfully keeping him awake and in pain. His chest felt tight and the bones of his broken arm ground against itself. 

When it finally stopped for real, his mind was reeling and nauseous. He collapsed limp against the table, drained and exhausted, sucking in desperate breaths. 

"Identities," was repeated. 

A tired groan left him as he tried to pull his eyes open. He wasn't successful. "God. Stop it already," he hissed between short puffs of breaths. "We both know... know that... I wouldn't tell you even... if I do know." 

"Oh, we both know that you do know who they are." 

"Then 'm not-" He coughed, lungs bursting and clenching, and he gritted his teeth against a pained moan. 

"I will let you reconsider your choice." 

He heard footsteps fading away before a door screeched open and slammed closed, the grating, loud noise making him wince. Edges of sleep pulled at his mind, and he couldn't fight it. 

But something pulled him back. A sharp, short burst of electricity pulsed from underneath him and jolted him awake. His eyes were slipping shut and it happened again. And again. 

He cursed. Cursed the man, the table, the cuffs, his situation as a whole. He wasn't getting any sleep any time soon. 

- 

He moved his eyes to the door as it swung open. His mind and sight were muddled with exhaustion and pain, a thick fog hazing over his vision and thoughts. He had passed out at one point, but someone had come over and slapped him awake before threatening to waterboard him if he fell under again. Jason hated bending down to threats, but he wasn't interested in getting drowned either. 

The blurry moving dots that he assumed was the tormentor entered, closing the door before approaching. "I don't suppose that you have changed your mind." 

"Bite me," Jason snarled. "Why don't you go back to where you belong?" A hand suddenly patting his cheek roughly made him jump. 

"I don't doubt that that is where you belong as well, even if you are on the opposite side of crime. But that is no matter." 

There was a heavy thunk followed by sounds of rummaging, the sound reminding him of Bruce or Tim shifting through their toolboxes and the comparison did not help his feeling of dread. He startled when something cold and heavy tapped on his right forearm, slowly moving to his wrist and hand. His first guess was a crowbar, which fuelled his panic, but the weight felt different (perks of being beaten to death by a crowbar!). Heavier. Specifically, the head that was softly landing on... It was a hammer. 

It was then that the tool was raised higher and slammed down onto the back of his index finger. He hissed, reflexively trying to pull away as another hit smashed onto the knuckle. The hammer continued to move to his other fingers, hitting the joints until they break and shatter. It hardly paused between one pound and the next, leaving him gasping. His entire hand was radiating with burning hot agony that licked fires up his arm, but he refused to let out any more than a hiss. That was before three of his broken middle fingers the grasped tightly and pulled and twisted roughly, making him scream, vision sparkling. 

"Identities." 

Wow, he was starting to hate that word. He tried to conjure and throw a fancy mix of profanities, but the man probably had seen it coming as the hammer slammed onto the back of his hand. Repeatedly. He bit his lip against a cry. It felt like his entire hand was shattered. He did scream, however, when something dug into his hand, hooking onto the broken bones, and pulled. His struggles made it worse, causing the claw- it was the hammer's claw, it had to be- to bury deeper. 

As he was trying to breathe through the agony raging across his limb, he felt a hand pressing down onto his probably dislocated knee. "'go of me, you jerk," he hissed, trying to move his leg away without making it painful. 

"You tell me their identities, then I might," the man said as he pressed harder onto the joint before something smashed onto it. 

Jason let out a strangled noise as the thing slammed repeatedly in rapid succession, making his vision spark and spasm. He clenched his fists, regretting it as it pulled against the hammer dug into his right hand.  Something pushed down onto his knee and his lips bled as he bit it hard, screwing his eyes shut against the onslaught. He didn't get to hold back the scream that left him as the table charged to life, electricity crackling into him. Every convulsion caused blinding agony to burn from his broken leg and hand, pulsing into his mind. 

It stopped just before he could have a chance to black out. His mind was left thrumming with exhaustion and pain. He was really tired. 

He felt something cold and metal grasping his broken little finger before it squeezed and twisted. He clenched his eyes shut and could only try to breathe. 

- 

Jason grumbled out a curse when he noticed that his broken right hand was kindly wrapped in a bandage of sorts. It just meant that they were intending on keeping him around for a while. At least the hammer was gone. He had woken up again to the room being empty and the table, thankfully, turned off. He didn't dare to shift his lower half, not wanting to risk aggravating that newly broken knee and the older broken calf, as he tested the leather restraints again, pulling and twisting. They dug into the existent chaffing on his wrists, but he kept at it. They were wrapped tight around his limbs with no obvious latches, he assumed they were probably hidden somewhere underneath the table. The other possibility, which he'd rather not be a reality, was that there were somehow no latches or locks, the ends of the cuffs sewn together or something. The leather was definitely of good quality, not wearing even a bit no matter how hard he tried scratching and clawing at them. Whoever this guy was, he definitely had good funding or just happens to have access to a lot of quality stuff; the table, the cuffs, the fact that Red Hood was still unable to escape for an estimated week. 

He hated that he had no idea who the person who caught him was. Red Hood had just happened to be checking in on a suspicious looking dilapidated warehouse after helping Red Robin in an exhausting battle with Killer Croc and Clayface. Before he could do anything effective about it, he was jumped by too many people, knocked out, and apparently dragged to where he was stuck now.  

Well, not quite. They drugged and threw him in some room with a simpler collection of restraints, but they didn't account for the Pit's enhancements and the drugs practically flew over him and he had nearly succeeded in breaking out. Very nearly succeeded. 

And now he was stuck here, with leather straps pinning his wrist, ankles, upper arms and head to an electrifying table, and the leader of whatever this was trying to dish out Batman and the rest of the family's identities out of him. Like that would ever happen. While interrogation might not be the worst kind of capture, it was definitely somewhere high up in the list. It got very annoying, especially when the interrogator had the nerve to believe that he would bend down to their demands if they hit him hard enough. 

Jason took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. At least they let him pass out this time around which was relatively nice. The table was perpetually cold against his bare back, and it caused the bits of burns left there to twinge every so often, especially when he moved. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it was definitely uncomfortable. 

The door opened and Jason snarled as footsteps came closer, two people from the sound of it. Yup, this was not going to be fun. 

A person stepped into his field of view, a lackey most likely, and started rummaging through a bag of sorts. It wasn't long before he found what he wanted and pulled out an empty syringe, fitting a needle at the end. 

Jason's eyes widened as panic swished in his mind. "Get that away from me," he growled when the syringe came close. He struggled against the cuffs and practically tried to tear out his limbs from his restraints when the tip of the needle touched his right forearm. His heart thumped loudly in his ears as the tip pressed into his skin, a sound strangling out of him. He bucked and twisted as his vision went hazy. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to not fall into a full-blown panic attack, it was just a stupid needle, and bit his tongue when he felt the thing pull out. 

When he dared to look again, he managed to catch a glimpse of red in the tube just as it disappeared into the bag. Blood. His blood. He could almost laugh, good luck trying to find anything with it. Bruce had made sure to keep any kind of trail untraceable. Even if it wasn't so, the Pit had messed up with his physiology, and he was still legally dead, thus no new medical records. 

His eyes jumped to the leader guy as the man came from his left and he snarled. "You won't even get anything from it." 

"I'll get what I want," the man replied evenly before he, surprisingly, left with the other guy. But, unsuprisingly, not before turning the table on at a low voltage. 

- 

Jason believed migraines and headaches to be two different things, despite having simmilar symptoms. Like... pixies and fairies. Or elves and pixies. And he hated having both at once. This was one of the times when he wondered how Tim had been able to pull off that one month sleepless marathon. Maybe it was the coffee. Maybe he could use some coffee right now. His point still stands, headaches were a nuisance while migraines deserved to be in Arkham more than he himself did. Not that he should be in the asylum. 

He winced as another sharp jolt of electricity sparkled, keeping him up and awake just as he was about to fall asleep. 

The door opened and he counted two people approaching. He cursed silently and glared at the first person to come into his line of sight. It was the leader-guy-person. 

"Anything to say before we start, Red Hood?" 

Jason broke into a cocky grin. "You can kindly go to-" A hand was slammed over his mouth and he scowled. That was rude. 

Before he could bite it, however, it was removed and he fished out a random creative collection of words from his brain. But he froze when he saw the same other guy from before coming with the same bag in hand. 

The bag was opened and a syringe was pulled out, partially filled with something off-white. Jason wanted to scramble back in panic but it plunged in and pulled out before he could. Whatever that was, it was already inside him. He didn't know what in the world was that and it was in him. 

"What did you do?" he growled, trying to not expose his fear and panic. 

"Let's just say history makes for a very good inspiration." 

Jason snarled as his mind echoed with dread. Not good. Not good. This was very very bad. 

Another filled syringe was pulled out as he tried and failed to pull away. 

- 

The dim lights were starting to burn into his eyes and he closed them with a groan. Only open them again when a clown creeped into the darkness. He turned his head away from the light. He really hated drugs in all shapes and forms. 

There was a murky voice saying something and he only knew what was being said due to the repetition of the word. "Identities." That was all the guy had been saying through out this entire thing. 

He didn't know whether or not they had concluded that he was more immune to chemical things, but whatever they had been giving him just happened to be strong enough to override his defences. It was adding to the migraine and making his mind feel muddy. The table charged again and he groaned. He also felt like vomiting. Horribly. He was only holding it back because he would probably choke on bile with his current position and drugged mind. 

He hated getting drugged, with or without his consent. He hated drugs as a whole. And he didn't know what on earth had they given him. It might have been a mix of things. Judging by the wierd things dancing around his vision- were those tiny Nightwings with bunny ears?-, it might be a sort of hallucinogen. 

A cold sharp thing poked at his arm again and he tried to twist away. He was never successful as the needle went through despite his struggles, throwing whatever concoction the syringe was filled with. Why couldn't they just continue to beat him up? Why this stupid drug thing? 

Something snatched his jaw, forcing his eyes back to the light. He hissed. The voice was too close when it growled, "Identities, Red Hood, and this would be over." 

It took a bit for him to understand what was being said. "'ot h'penin', b'stard." His own voice sounded echo-ey and far... 

He flinched as a sudden creaking and slamming sound echoed everywhere. He gasped when the electric table started up again at low power, keeping the flow steady. The bunny Nightwings turned into one and hopped onto his chest. He scowled at it as it booped his nose with its paw-hand. 

"You're an idiot, you know that?" It suddenly talked! It talked! In a squeaky Dick's voice to boot! 

Jason wasn't interested in having anyone in the room seeing him talk to his own hallucination and resorted to internally replying, "You're saying like it is news. You're going to have to be a bit more specific as to what exactly you're referring to." 

Bunny Nightwing- or Bun-Wing, he decided- gestured to the world around them. "You are pumped with gallons of who-knows-what and you are still stuck here." 

"Oi. No no. This was not my fault. I did not sign up for this." 

"It so is." It sing-songed. 

“Then enlighten me on just how is this my fault.” 

"Couldn't even stop yourself from getting caught. You really are such a trouble maker. You never change." 

Okay. That hurt. How was it that his own hallucination was so mean to him? "You're mean. I hate you. Why can't you do something useful. Like turning off this table? Or the lights?" 

Bun-wing rolled its eyes. "You just said I am your hallucination, you idiot. Unless if you want to hallucinate the lights being off, then be my guest." 

Jason nearly huffed out loud. He tried shifting to, hopefully maybe, find a position where the shocks won't hurt as much, but forgot that he was a half-mess of broken bones. He gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, stars and fireworks flashing in his mind. 

"Stop moving, you idiot. I'm gonna fall off." 

"Stop calling me an idiot, you selfish jerk. And don't look like Dick if you're not going to behave like one." 

"You prefer it if I look like someone else? How about someone with a better sense of humour?" 

It cackled, sounding too close to him, and Jason snapped his eyes open, glaring. 

Bun-wing had the nerve to look victorious. "Then I'm staying as I am. Besides, how do you know that this isn't how Dick behaves when he isn't around you? Maybe Dick had always been hiding all of his real feelings from you, trying to be the 'good big brother'." 

Why was it that his mind decided to conjure something who liked to rattle off his stashed away insecurities? "You know that I no longer think that.” 

"Do you, though?" Jason didn't get to retort when it snapped, "Language." 

"I hate you." He pointedly turned away from it. But it didn't stop talking. 

- 

"Stop it," Jason finally growled out loud, certain that the room was empty. Bun-wing spent the past minutes-hours prattling on and on, either about some stupid inane thing, or uprooting one of Jason's many deeply buried fears and insecurities.  "Just stop it 'lready and shut up." 

"Why, Little Wing? Scared? That it might be true? That dad wouldn't find you again?" 

"You shut up. He's not my 'dad' an' y'know nothing." 

"But, Jay, I'm your mind. So technically, everything I say is what you believe." 

"Te'nicality's stupid." 

"It is, but it doesn't make it less true. You're the outcast of the family, if you're even part of it in the first place. You're the Pit-crazed murderer maniac who nearly killed Tim. You're the failure Robin who died." 

"’said, shut up." Jason shifted his wrist in the leather cuffs. Maybe he could pull his hand out and strangle the imaginary rabbit. 

"I'm just saying what you are. What Bruce thinks you are. You don't even belong with us." 

Those were not what Bruce thought of him. He kinda knew that. Bruce had said it himself when Jason had admitted his doubts. 

"You forget, he nearly killed you by slicing you neck, letting you bleed out and get caught in an explosion. He didn't try to save you, remember?" 

He would never forget about it, the night still haunting him. The contempt in Batman's face. The batarang searing into his neck. The burn and crumble of the building around him.  

"I'll say that is a pretty good example of how much Bruce hates you. If he now acts like he doesn't, we both know how much of a good liar he is. He-" 

"Just shut up!" Jason bit his lip, trying to breathe. Whatever stupid things his hallucination was saying was not true and he knew that. But his brain was feeling murky and was apparently too messed up to care. He wanted to throttle that stupid rabbit. 

"No, you don't." 

"I may be imagining you but that doesn't mean I don't want to kill you, you pretentious-" 

"Language." The rabbit booped his nose again and that was starting to get really annoying. 

He scowled. "Ge' off me. You're heavy." His chest was starting to hurt from where the bunny had been hanging out for the past array of minutes. 

"No, you idiot. I weigh nothing but thoughts. Your chest is just having problems with itself." 

That... that didn't sound right. "What d'you mean by that?" 

Bun-wing rolled its eyes. "You are so dim sometimes." 

"Can you stop insulting me an' get to the point? I know that I am a stupid idiot, even if you haven't been telling me that for the past who knows how many hours." 

It looked smug and victorious. "Allow me to enlighten you, Jay Jay." 

Jason cringed at the new nickname but didn't protest as the hallucination would only irrate him further. 

"You battled Killer Croc and, if I remember correctly, both you and Tim concluded that you had cracked some ribs. Time skip several hours or so, you arrogantly thought that you could get out of here and you collected even more injuries. We skip again, you spent days here, on this table, getting shocked to oblivion. I'd say that your chest and maybe lungs and even your heart is not too happy with you." 

He ground his teeth. Now that he was paying attention to it, he could feel the pain coming from inside his chest. He had also forgotten about the table slowly pulsing in shocks up until now, his drugged mind having thrown the detail into the back burner. And now he couldn't stop feeling it, the light prickles coming from everywhere underneath him, periodically jolting him; not strong enough to be outright painful, but definitely uncomfortable. Mixed with his current state of mind, his head was starting to feel a little more than slightly sick. 

- 

Jason had gone back to ignoring Bun-wing, hating the squeaky voice of his brother coming from the imaginary rabbit. It was dreadfully annoying. Not mention some of its words just hit too close to home. 

Instead he closed his eyes and tried to remember quotes from Alice In Wonderland. He couldn't. But the attempt made for a good distraction. 

A sudden slam made him jump. His eyes snapped open and he hissed as the light burned. And he cried out when something pressed down and ground onto his shattered knee. Joker flickered above him, crowbar twirling. But fizzled out when a different voice spoke. 

"Identities." 

Jason cursed viciously, ignoring Bun-wing's "Language." 

"So you have yet to give in." 

"Wouldn't. Ge' 'ver it." 

"You're reeeally sure you wouldn't? I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you," Bun-wing taunted. 

"Just shut up already, you pre'entious 'mpostoring deadweight," Jason snapped. 

"Rude," the rabbit kicked his chin lightly. 

At the same time the leader villian guy spoke up, "Tell me, Red Hood. What is it that you see? What do you see and hear?" 

Jason wordlessly glared at the man. 

The fizzy shocks that had been emitting from the metal surface underneath him jump to a viciously strong voltage. 

- 

"You're wrecked." 

Jason closed his eyes and ears; the latter obviously figuratively; from the words. 

"Come on, Jason. It is not like I'm real. We both know that." 

Nope. No. There was no one talking beside him. If he didn't see it, then it wasn't real. 

A scoff. "Are you really giving your imagination the silent treatment?" 

He wanted to sleep. The table had been off for ages yet he was still kept up by his own mind. He was beyond exhausted. 

"C'mon, Jay. Don't be like this." 

It had to be two or three days since he last slept. His internal clock had gone out of the window and he wasn't wholly sure if his interrogator had a schedule. He wasn't even sure if that guy was even real half of the time. His hallucinations, in a long run, started to get confusing. 

"Jason..." 

He whined and finally turned his head to meet Tim by the table. "Please just stop talking and let me sleep, Red." 

Imaginary-Tim took a sip from his mug of limitless coffee, his neck tie sparkling with tiny glittery bats. "Sorry. You kinda said you probably shouldn't earlier." 

At least having this Tim was better than Bun-wing. Imaginary-Tim wasn't as annoying or willing to hurt as the rabbit. "Did?" 

"They threaten to waterboard you again if you fall asleep." 

Jason vaguely remembered that. He had fallen asleep at one point, gotten a bit of a nightmare -thank you, Bun-wing- and had woken up drowning. His trashing had successfully reignited all his injuries; broken legs and arms shatered wrist and hand, the awful thing in his chest, the stinging burns on his back, and a whole array of unidentifiable throbbing all over him. It still hurt now and he wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere until it all went away. But he couldn't do that, he's still stuck to the table. And imaginary-Tim had clarified that he couldn't help. 

...But maybe... he could... "Red?" 

Imaginary-Tim raised an eyebrow. 

"Can you- Can you maybe like..." Jason felt hesitant and slightly embarassed to voice it out, even to his own hallucination. 

But Tim, smart even in Jason's imagination, deduced what he wanted. Or maybe just knew since this Tim was just a conjurance of his own mind. 

Imaginary-Tim reached out a hand and patted Jason's hair. And Jason melted. He knew that he was just imagining things and he couldn't even feel it, but just the thought of it was nice. Imaginary-Tim’s fingers was the most comforting thing he had ever felt in days. 

- 

So, the gaggle of people holding him had apparently decided to keep him constantly and steadily drugged by hooking him up to an IV thing. He also assumed at it was making sure he didn't die of dehydration. 

He had asked imaginary-Tim how long had it been since he last slept and the hallucination merely replied that he didn't know because he hadn't slept either. He missed that figment of his imagination. Tim had left him alone at one point. 

His interrogator hadn't come by even since the IV pole had been set up. He hadn't been able to willingly stay up anymore. He suspected that something in the concoction of fluids injected into him was doing that for him. 

Joker leered over him, elbows pressing onto his aching chest. "Come on, Jay Jay. You're being awfully quiet." 

Jason turned away but there was a Joker there too. 

"Not finding a punchline?" 

He closed his eyes but something raking over his bare chest made him open them again. 

"We can always turn this party up a notch!" Two other Jokers stepped into view, all wielding crowbars. 

- 

It wasn't real. He knew that. But it felt so vivid. 

"..S-stop..." 

The Jokers went on giddily thunking their crowbars all over him, ignoring. It hurt despite it all being in his head. His heart was beating erratically as his chest felt caved in. His shoulder was shattered again and again despite never been broken in the first place. He tried to tell himself that it was just his hallucination, this wasn't real, but it was starting to get muddier and muddier by the minute. 

“Let me tell you a joke, Jay-kins,” one of the Joker spoke up, grabbing his jaw to turn his head to meet green eyes. “What bird dies in flames and comes back to life?” 

A robin. Him. 

The grin widened. “Bet you think its you, eh?” 

Another Joker made a buzzer sound, “No-se-ree! You got that wrong.” The crowbar was raise before “Fore!” and it slammed onto his shattered knee and he screamed. “Guess again, Hoody.” 

He couldn’t answer even if he wanted to. Couldn’t think. There was just so much overwhelming pain coursing and pulsing through every inch of him. And the worse part was that he knew it wasn’t real. 

All three pairs of manic green eyes suddenly swivelled up to behind his head. "Oh look who decided to join the party!" they chorused as they melted into one. 

At first Jason thought that it was the bad guy again. But the familiar dark figure entering Jason's periphery proved him wrong. For a moment, for a short sliver of moment, he hoped that it was real. 

"Look who I brought!" Jason flinched at the voice of Bunny Nightwing, the rabbit hopping onto the table. 

Batman stepped closer, emotionless as ever. 

Jason knew what was going to come. He’d had this nightmare before. He struggled in vain. The cuffs were still holding him too tight. "No... no please no..." 

Batman snarled and pulled out a batarang. 

- 

The blade trailed down his chest from his neck again, drawing patterns over his heart, tracing over the scar near his throat. It was pressed deep enough to break skin. But there wasn't any blood or new cuts. He realistically knew that, despite the flows of red that shines in the blinding light. All the while, Batman, one hand moving the batarang through the flow of blood, was by his head, free hand almost gently combing his hair, whispering words. Assurances. 

"Shh... It's okay, Jason. A little more." 

"That's it. You can hold on a little longer can you?" 

"Now that didn't hurt too much, didn't it? Can you take a little bit more, Jay? 

Jason sobbed and tried to get away. The twisted words, the sharp batarang, the gentle hand, they were all too jarring and confusing for him to coherently comprehend, messing up his head even further. He couldn't even jerk his head away from the fingers with the strap holding him in place. 

How was it that he was hallucinating all of this? Maybe this was- No. It couldn't be real. This wasn't real. He couldn't let himself think that. 

He bit his lip against a cry as the batarang hooked at his skin and pried it open, back arching from the table as he struggled. He whined the blade pressed down onto the scar at his neck, causing a fresh flood of red to gush out. 

"Shh.. shh... You can take it, Jay," Batman whispered, fingers brushing back his bangs. "You're going to stay strong for me aren't you?" 

Jason screwed his eyes shut against the brimming tears but a pair of furry paws pulled them open again. 

"C'mon, Little Wing." Bun-wing rolled its eyes from were it was hovering by his head. "Stop trying to run off." 

Jason summoned what little strength he could fish out of his addled brain and glared at the rabbit. 

- 

He opened his eyes with a gasp when something cold and wet crashed onto him. Trying to blink his vision clearer, Jason realised that he passed out at one point and greatly hoped that they were not going to hold on to their threat. His sight remained blurry as a voice pierced the ringing in his skull. 

"Identities." 

He tried to get his tongue to cooperate and throw out a curse, but it was a mumbled, slurred response. His thoat felt dry and rough. 

"I am assuming that you have yet to give in?" 

He glared at the villian leader guy– well, the blob which he believed was the villian leader guy– and growled. 

"Then we'll go again.” 

His heart fell. He hated the drugs and the hallucinations it made his mind conjure. He never liked those things in the first place. And he was afraid of what too much of it would do to his mind and body. The childhood fear of being dependant on it. He could already feel the more immediate side-effects of overdose; the relentless nausea, his erratic heartrate, the throbbing-over-pounding headache, the deep layering pains in his chest. And he wasn't keen on meeting any of his imaginary conjurance again. Why couldn't this guy be more physical? He wouldn't even complain against the usage of a crowbar. 

He forced his mouth to work. "'ou- You guys 're 'finitely n-not th'mos'... creative people in'th'world." 

There was a dark chuckle of amusement. "Don’t tempt me, Hood. I can get very creative. Set up the new drip and make sure to increase the potency." 

A hand grabbed his bound arm and Jason struggled, feeling a needle threatening to pierce his skin. But he wasn't strong or free enough to fight or get away as the sharp tip went in. His heart was pounding in his ears as he still kept on trying to break free, twisting his wrists, borken or not, in the cuffs. 

His broken knee was suddenly twisted and he screamed, vision flashing with stars. His movements faltered as the pain pulsed and throbbed, mind fizzing between the agonising shifts of broken bones and the dreading pricks of needles in his arm. 

When it all finally stopped, he struggled to catch his breath, lungs feeling far too compressed and throat too tight. He winced when the lamp overhead was adjusted to shine directly into his eyes and flinched at the sound of the door slamming close as the people left him alone. For now. 

- 

His entire head was a throbbing mess of aches. The dark walls of the small space crumbled around him endlessly despite the too bright light coming from somewhere. Was it the way out? But he couldn't dig himself out, tied down as he was. And- and the dirt was going to suffocate him and- 

No, he wasn't buried. He was somewhere else. The table. Empty room. Not underground. 

He tried to blink away the hazy hallucination around him. It just blurred further and he closed his eyes. 

Not real. Not real notrealnotreal- 

A half cry left him as he clenched his broken hand in attempt to ground himself to reality, focusing on how the skin tore further. That was real, he chanted in his mind, the things he was seeing wasn't. He curled his fingers in tighter and sucked in a shaky breath. 

A touch on his shoulder and a familiar voice made his eyes snap open. 

No. Please please no. 

Batman stood over him, a snarl curling his lips. He raised a crowbar, bringing it down and it stabbed as a batarang. Jason screamed as the blade sunk into his chest, twisting in his heart. He struggled against the restraints, ignoring the way his movements pulled at his shattered knee and tore further into his wrists. 

The crowbar pulled out before the table shocked him with a quick burst of electricity. He let out a breathless cry as, at the same time, the glinting metal weapon impaled his knee. Fingers touched his hair and he tried to run away, hearing soft incoherent words getting whispered in his ear. 

"Stop!" He finally sobbed out when the batarang started to peel the skin of his right wrist. "St-stop... please just- just stop..." 

His breath hitched as he heard Batman’s, "Shh, Jay. It's alright. We've got you." 

It wasn't alright. It wasn't alright. He knew this wasn't alright. He also knew that this wasn't real but it was hard to believe that when Batman was hovering above him, hurting him. And he could vividly feel every single pain inflicted upon him. 

He whined at a particularly harsh wrenching of the crowbar still embedded in his leg. Breathing was getting too hard, his heart was pounding loud and uneven in his chest and it all hurt. Fingers pried open his half-clenched broken fist, pressing it down, as he spasmed against a new flood of electricity. "B, please stop. Please..." 

"Stay still, Jay." Reprimand was in the tone. "Stop moving. But you never were good at listening to orders. I shouldn't expect much from you." 

Jason flinched. All in his head. All in his head.  Not real. There was no way Bruce would say that. But knowing all that didn't make it hurt any less. 

He suddenly felt his legs getting moved and realised that the leather cuffs and straps holding him down were gone. He didn't waste any time and scrambled back as far as he could, not caring when he fell of the table. He just needed to get away. Far, far away. 

Batman followed him and he tried to get up and run, but he was too hurt and weak - weak, helpless, useless - and collapsed before he could even get his legs under him, a pained moan and whine escaping his throat. His knee was pulsing and shrieking and he curled up on the floor with a whimper despite his mind screaming at him to get away. 

"Jason," a different voice called out. It wasn't Batman. It wasn't Bun-Wing or Joker or anyone else who would hurt him. He peered between his bangs and saw Tim. Red Robin was crouched in front of him, a hand outstretched. "Jay. Hey. It's just me, alright. I need you to stop moving or you'll hurt yourself further, okay?" 

Jason couldn't understand the uttered words but he knew that Tim hadn't hurt him. His little brother never had. He kept still as Tim shuffled closer and moved the outstretched hand onto his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. 

"I need you to calm down and breathe slowly, Jason. I don't know what you're seeing, but I know that not all of it is real. Can you stay still while me and Bruce check you for injuries?" 

Bruce? He wanted his father. Longed. 

But then Batman stepped closer and he flinched back. He whimpered as Batman gently touched his face, thumb stroking across his bruised jaw. He wanted to run, but he was too exhausted. Hurt. Batman tugged him from the floor, wrapping a large black thing around him, and he let it happen. Tim was still there, holding the broken leg, and Jason screamed raggedly when it was straightened. 

A soft, rumbly voice pierced through the pain-fuelled haze and he looked up when something brushed his bangs. Bruce’s strong gaze met his and he felt his breath catching in his throat. Bruce was here. He melted as his father embraced him, trembling and whimpering into the armoured chest. He felt safe. 

It probably was a hallucination, much like Tim, but he would take this comfort even if it wasn't real.