#wow these tags are LONG as fuck ill stop now.

[wilcze-kudly]

Thank you @nova-leaf for this tag too 🥰

wow i get to talk about myself so much im nervous

•How many tumblr accounts have you had before this one?

This is gonna be my fith tumblr account lol. I lose track of them really easily because I'm a silly funky guy with so much wrong with me.

• How long have you been in fandom?

Oh like. Since I was 10? God I remember my firat forays into fandom culture on amino it was an experience good god. My first fandom was Tolkien. I've only recently gotten into the Avatar fandom though. Still not sure how that happened but I'm having fun 🥰

•Your favorite trope in fiction?

I adore found family, cause I'm basic lol. The power of friendship is also a cheesy beloved of mine.

•Your favorite random fact?

Tolkien had beef with the Beatles. Hayao Miyazaki hates the Beatles. Junji Ito loves the Beatles.

•Your favourite game or kind of game?

Skyrim is my favourite game. Open world RPGs are my escape. I love them so much I try not to play them too often or I'll never get up lol.

•A place you’d like to visit? (If carbon emissions, logistics and money weren’t in question)

Hm. This is a tough one. I like to travel and I want to go to many places. But if I had to pick one point off that list, it would pribably be mount Shasta. I'm just curious, I guess, with all the legends and disappearances and odd happenings around it. Like I just wanna see the place not even have anything supernatural happen. Just be there for a bit? Call it morbid curiosity. Also the area seems beautiful even of itself like even if the aliens don't get me i think it'd be a nice hike.

•An animal you’re irrationally afraid of?

Ants. I like most bugs. I like spiders. But ants? Ants give me straight up panic attacks? I don't know why. There's just something very terrifying aout them.

Also. Swans. But that's not an irrational fear. Geese and swans are in my opinion the true successors of dinosaurs. If you haven't been a girl scout cowering in a flimsy tent with your three other girl scout friends, in the middle of a thunderstorm, while a pair of feral swans is trying to peck their way into your tent you do not know true fear.

Their pecks hurt like a bitch too. Their beaks are serrated like a fucking saw.

•What’s your favourite season?

Autumn. In Poland we divide Autumn into two mini seasons. Golden Autumn, which is early autumn, when the freshly fallen leaves are all crispy and beautiful. And then we have Rainy Autumn, which is when it has rained and gotten much colder. I love both.

•A smell that brings you nice memories?

Tea. I started drinking tea when I was very young. My dad is an Englishman and the moment i stopped drinking breastmilk i was immediately given tea with milk.

I think I associate tea very strongly with my family and feeling loved by them. When I was younger, my parents would often wake up before me, so they would often make me tea and wake me up with it.

Making tea for someone is still a huge gesture of affection to me and there's nothing quite like the smell of a nice hot cup of tea.

(If you’re ok talking about food. If not, delete this part)

•What’s your favorite food from where you were born? And what’s your favorite food from some place else?

My favourite food from Poland, huh? I love a lot of Polish foods, but I if I had to pick something it'd probably be krówki [which translates to 'little cows']. They're fudgelike candies, similair to Scottish Tablets and White Rabbit Creamy Candy. They're delicious.

For food from a different country? @nova-leaf has put the idea of Shortbread into my head now so that's all ill be thinking about I have to see if I have the stuff to make some at home or I'll go insane.

•What’s your favorite drink (if you drink alcohol, alcoholic and non-alcoholic)?

Alcoholic: Salty Caramel flavoured Krupnik. It is very difficult to explain what a Krupnik is? Its kind of like a liqueur.

Non Alcoholic: Orange Juice. It used to be diet coke but my addiction got so bad i had to quit cold turkey lest I completely wreck my health.

•Do you give your pets random table scraps?

Not random table scraps, but if I have any extra of whatever I'm cooking, and if they can eat it, I'll sometimes give them some as a snack or as an incentive while training them.

Thanks for the tag honey!

Tagging: @linnorabeifong @thatoneguy56fanfic @novaae @thenamescaba

[freshiegayboi]

fic update: so many snacks, so little time chap. 2

wrote some more symbiote!gaster/reader!! enjoy lol

tags: canon typical violence, reader is female but also kinda gnc, police brutality (its not police but its close enough)

read chapter 2 on Ao3

or read it below!

When you woke up again, your head pounded from the light coming through the windows. You hissed as you carefully got up to head to your bedroom, your black-out curtains your only hope. Every step was torture, your eyes squeezed shut even as you stumbled around your couch and down the hall, the slowly progressive darkness making it just the bit more bearable.

You had no idea what was causing this, maybe you were getting sick? Either way you hadn’t felt this rough in years and wow, you might lose the nice little breakfast you’d made that morning.

...Had it been that morning? You weren’t actually sure if it was even still the same day, given how hard you’d passed out.

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but you were going the fuck back to bed, and nothing was going to stop you.

‘You need to eat.’

The deep, dark voice came from somewhere in the back of your head, startling you badly enough that you fell to the floor just in the doorway of your bedroom.

Immediately writing it off as delirium from whatever sickness you’d caught, you crawled the rest of the way to your bed, ignoring the weight in your limbs that hadn’t been there before. It took more strength than it had any right to, to make your way into your bed. Grunting with the effort, you carefully tucked your pillow to your chest, scrunched your eyes shut, and tried to go back to sleep.

Of course, that ended up being a lot easier than you’d thought it’d be, which was a blessing in itself because when you woke up the headache from hell was gone. Your energy had returned, swinging your legs over the side of the bed being a lot easier than it would have been the night before. The day before? Hours before? You still weren’t really sure what day it was, whether it was still “today” or not.

There was an easy way to check, but when you reached for your phone, you realized that there was no way it would be on the nightstand where you usually kept it. You’d barely gotten yourself into bed; you’d have been shocked if you’d remembered to bring your phone.

Standing to your feet, you yawn loudly, shaking off the grogginess that still clung to the back of your head. Now that you were up, you couldn’t help but grimace at the smell that was coming off you. Surely it’d been at least a night or so if the b.o. was this bad. Deciding it’d be best to find your phone and then take a shower to get rid of the stench, you started for the bedroom door.

But something in you pulled, back from the door as you raised your hand to open it. It felt weird, like you weren’t in complete control of your own body, but given how sick you were (and likely still were, you had no doubts that bad of an illness wasn’t going away after a good night’s sleep) you wrote it off and went through the doorway.

Your stuff was right where you’d left it, your phone cracked and unusable. Which was more than a little annoying, but you’d just need to boot up your desktop to message the necessary people that you were still alive. Honestly, it was a bit surprising you hadn’t had people banging down your door yet, if not Steph than surely your neighbor would have called in a wellness check, depending on how long you’d been out.

Maybe they had and you’d just been so out of it you hadn’t heard them. But then why weren’t the police involved? Maybe it really was the next morning.

Shaking your head, you mumble “Man I need a drink...” as you headed for the bathroom.

A quick but thorough shower later and you were stood in front of the mirror, looking yourself over. It had slowly come back to you as you cleaned yourself, the events of the lab explosion and the guy that had a stroke or something right on top of you.

It was still so entirely weird, the entire event. Why had it exploded? What was the black goop? Some kind of oil, maybe? What if it had been something really dangerous, some kind of chemical warfare or something? Maybe you should go see a doctor…

The visceral disgust you felt at the thought was a little dizzying, but you had no idea where it’d come from. You didn’t usually mind going to the doctor, maybe… maybe you needed more sleep.

Just before you could do more than put on your bra and think about heading back to bed, though, a loud series of knocks came at the apartment door.

“Fucking finally, pfft.” You said to yourself, slipping on your t shirt and heading for the still insistent knocking. But just before you could reach for the knob, that same pause happened again, something in you tugging you back, making you wary of whoever was on the other side. You had no idea what this was and it was making you a bit pissed off, but to persuade the sudden intense caution flooding your head, you peeked through the door’s peephole.

Well… that was different. There were what looked like a few armed guards outside, all with guns on their hips and not an actual police officer in sight. Something in you bristled, though you were half sure this was just you too this time. People throwing their weight around, usually half cocked guys that got the job for having no sense of morality, really pissed you off.

“Miss ____?” one of them called, probably the guy that’d been pounding on your goddamn door for the past two minutes.

You weighed your options. You could open the door and almost certainly have a big group of armed assholes storm in, roughing you up (at least) and wrecking your apartment. Or you could act like you weren’t home and just kind of hope they left.

“Miss, open the door. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” he called again, making you scowl.

Yeah, they knew you were here. And something told you if they came in, they weren’t going to keep those guns in their holsters.

Of course you didn’t get much of a choice to think anymore about it, as one of them seemingly got tired of waiting and down your door crashed with a deafening crack, guys in black and brown fatigues storming in, and all at once your existence boiled down to-

‘PROTECT KEEP SAFE DESTROY EAT’

You blacked out. Was just totally gone, for seconds, minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you were out, just that when you came back from the inky, warm dark of your own mind you were standing at the stove, a big pan of what looked like tater tots in your hands, the oven door open.

“What the fuck…?” you whimpered, setting the tray down with a clang as you turned and ran to the living room. You don’t know what you were expecting. Blood, viscera maybe. A massacre.

Instead you were looking at a perfectly clean living room, even cleaner than you usually kept it. Everything was in place, not a single sign your life had nearly been ruined, if not ended.

Hand over your mouth, you worked your jaw as you desperately tried to figure out what was going on, only to pause mid thought as another voice joined your own. It was familiar in the worst way, the stuff of nightmares even as it calmly spoke.

‘I told you, you need to eat something.’

...What the fuck.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[bubbelpop2]

Hey. I'm Adam, Bubbz, Sam, Atticus, and many other nicknames, pseuds, and screen names, but most people call me Adam or Bubbz. I'm a man, a witch, a reclaiming native guy (oceti sakowin, oglala lakota.) and I like educating people and advocating for healthy communication and thought. I like destigmatizing mental illness, and activism.

I'm a system. I have DID.

I MADE A GAME! PLAY IT! (This is the alpha version of chapter one)

FREE PALESTINE (NOW)

buy Internet for people in gaza

Anti Zionism is not antisemetism. No, really, it's not.

POISON AI

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IF YOU WANT TO SUPPORT ME PLEASE FOLLOW MY WORK BLOG FULL OF EVERY CREATIVE ENDEAVOR I TAKE PART IN

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Fandom list ("get rid of the part of you that cringes, not the part that's cringe, my son")

Watchlist

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Kink list (warning: gross and unethical. I'm.. traumatized.) 

My theme song!!

 Hey there! Did you know I’m a person? If you’re a stupid terf or exclus or 9 year old sending a fucking hate anon, be more original than picking on my kinks like some puritanical conservative!   (ง •̀_•́)ง

Fun fact all but one of my kinks go both ways. I'm a true switch. Oh yeah, check out my bsdm test results.

Two separate older black women have told me that I sound black. And also one white boy named Dilan who described my accent as "using ebonics" as if he had a problem with it.

Here's a get-to-know-me collage.

Religion

I'm a witch with Baptist roots and Buddhist beliefs. I like Alan Watts!

Pronouns: He/🍯/🧸/🍃/🐾/🌕

Politics

I'm an anarchocommunist idealistically, but I'd be happy with a capitalistic welfare state like norway, seeing as how, realistically, communism isn't going to be implemented into any country I'm going to live in any time soon. Just as long as the disabled are cared for, I'm happy with it. Antifa and proud.

My environmental wet dream

Fuck scrotus

BMI is meaningless and it's fake science

Shipping "politics"

Stop treating shipping like politic dogma and go touch grass. I'm part of the dead dove society. Meaning, that I go by the old (and updated, for the times.) rules of the fandom, before "antiship" or "proship" was even a thing.

Don't like, don't read.

Tag your dark content properly. Make sure that nobody could possibly stumble on it unless they are looking for it. Do NOT post dark content in the main tags.

Don't harass people for things you don't like. Block and move on.

Don't feel ashamed about complete fictional thoughts about fictional characters.

if you have a dark pairing don't fucking treat it like normal shipping. That's so tone deaf. Post proper warnings about the content.

CAREER and Dreams

I want to do so many things. Most of them involve drawing, or music, or making videos and video games. I'd love to be a successful YouTuber with animations and speed paints and playthroughs and podcasts and reaction videos and political videos.

Trublums

I am actively looking for a job

I have ADHD, DID, and Manic Depression. I have a lot of undiagnosed blood pressure, breathing, and chronic pain issues. My mom is in debt from medical bills, my grandma can hardly afford her insulin and blood sugar sensors. We are not far from being without electricity and food. Pretty pretty please donate or give me a commission by DMing me. I’m also trying to transition through all of this. Please help. paypal.me/bubbelpop3

         (you can ignore my boundaries as long as you are respectful)

Boring specifics. Fun fact, these things are kind of the basis of being a respectful person.

Nazis, alt-right, and anybody who holds antisemitic views (commit die)

Anti Witch

Pro-contact zoos/pedos/necros

Racists, Homophobes, Transphobes, Islamophobes (change or commit die)

Anti-mogai (wow you're so good at keeping the community together by telling kids who dare to have neo pronouns to kys)

"queer is a slur" learn your culture and stop listening to terfs.

Anti cglre and agereg (other peoples kinks or coping mechanisms are not yours to judge)

Anti kink (consent is important)

"there is no sfw agereg" shut the fuck up and talk to a licensed therapist they'll tell you otherwise.

"Kill all men" You're gross whether or not you exclude trans men from that sentiment. [X] [X] [X]

Pro-cop (die fashie)

“I’m not obligated to be an activist.” It’s your duty as a human being.

"No kink at pride" shut the fuck up [x]

Antiship (I've had so many fucking harassments over absolute bullshit.) look at this [x] and this [x]

Anti-Endo (as long as you respect them and leave them alone/don’t harass or fakeclaim I don’t care what your personal opinions are. But know this is a safe place for people who ID as endo.)

"You shouldn't let minors view your blog"

Pro-capitalists

Christian centered blogs (you make me uncomfortable)

Cancel culture supporters (yes. sending death threats solves so many problems.

[noritoshiikamo]

this is how you fall in love

pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy

listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels

“you’re a lifesaver.”

kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.

yup, not him.

tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.

kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”

“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”

he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.

their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.

they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.

“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”

bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.

he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.

“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.

he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.

“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”

she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”

“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.

cant come over, busy, ill tell u later

kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.

they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.

tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?

just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.

“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”

“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.

looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.

“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”

“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”

kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.

“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”

their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.

“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”

she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.

that was 3 months ago.

kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.

she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.

kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”

he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.

“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.

“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.

“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”

a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.

he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.

he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.

“for luck,” he grinned.

unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.

he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.

he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.

“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.

“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.

“that’s not fair!”

“apologize first.”

“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”

he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”

“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”

he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.

finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!

the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.

“i love you too.”

nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.

breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.

“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.

he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.

“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”

she has no objection.

[aliensunflower-fics]

In Defense of Salt AND Sugar: Aka ML Fandom pls chill out.

So I don’t talk much as those who follow me will say I tend to just stick to myself and my own things. HOWEVER, Ive gotten a lot of asks about why I write both Salt and Sugar for Miraculous Ladybug.

The short answer: Both salt and sugar are valid, fun, intriguing things to read and write and the point of writing is to entertain and be entertained.

The long answer: Salt isn’t inherently someone hating on your fav show and sugar isn't someone necessarily giving it a free pass either. Ya’ll are just dramatic as hell.

The LONGER answer:

I write salt because I LIKE Miraculous Ladybug, BUT the show has not lived up to its potential AT ALL. The show could be so much better and the characters are so flawed or full of holes that occasionally I feel FRUSTRATED and mad!

I hate that Alya a character who I was so excited about, gets shafted ignored, sidelined, or written like a jerk! She could have been this great detective working alongside her friend to unmask the villain, but instead she often comes across as pushy, obsessed with Ladynoir or Adrinette, and so damn easily tricked. Not to mention how when shes not gushing over her ‘ships’ shes pushed to the side and ignored. [or you know... LILA]

I hate that Marinette’s crush makes her do things that are so cringy and awkward i feel ill I hate that she’s constantly the only one making mistakes and ‘learning lessons’ when the show has all these other great characters that could use the spotlight and be the ones learning lessons. I hate that she’s so jealous and that she cant ever seem to catch a break as if the show is punishing her constantly.

I HATE that Adrien is a mary sue, how the writers say hes perfect and treat him as such, I hate that he gets to guilt Marinette into fixing everything and dealing with bullies, I wanted a funny, Ron Stoppable, naive boy who learns about real friendships and grows into a great partner. Instead he gets to be pushy and downright a jerk as Chat Noir ignoring his responsibilities, guilting Ladybug with his feelings, never taking no as an answer. He’s not a good role model for kids.

I hate that Chloe got built up to have a redemption arc several times only for the writers to decide that Chloe a teenage girl who needs some serious therapy [and actual reasonable punishment for her actions] is worse than Gabriel child abuse Agreste. She could have been a great lesson on compassion and growth and dealing with your own pain without hurting others. Instead the writers wrote her off completely.

And dont get me started on how the show treats Nino, Kagami, Luka and the rest of the cast. They may as well be a backdrop for the forced love square that we NEVER get a break from. Seriously I’m a sucker for romance but does it need to be EVERY damn episode?! Can’t we just get some wholesome friendship between everyone including Adrien and Marinette at this point like COME ON.

And i’m not even touching on the white washing, awful lessons on responsibility and forgiveness, awful lessons on well so much other stuff really, the guilt trips, the teacher, the fact that she show could be used to teach kids how to better handle negative emotions and the importance of open communication and not keeping quiet about injustice and/or your feelings but instead decided that the main priority should be a love square that gets force fed to us EVERY SINGLE EPISODE.

My point is the show has FLAWS. That doesn’t mean its the worse show ever and it doesn’t mean its not fun, and has a great premise and characters, and so when I write Salt I write it because i’m frustrated! Im frustrated with the show, with the characters, with the writing and so I vent that out with salt I write those characters as their worst selves because I cant stand how the show has decided to treat them and Im ANGRY and disappointed.

It feels good to write salt and to read it. It’s nice to see characters get called out for bad behavior, its nice to read about Adrien not getting the girl. Its nice to occasionally indulge in salt because it validates that the show is flawed and lets you get out that frustration.

BUT ON THE FLIP SIDE

Miraculous Ladybug is a lovely show. It’s a show that decided to give little girls a FEMALE HERO. And not just as a side kick or background character! No they made her the protagonist! Its so important to me that little girls see good well rounded female characters in media.

And even if the show is clumsy about it they are TRYING to build an expansive lore that tickles the theorist brain. And gets people invested in the world.

The show also made Marinette shy, and awkward, and clumsy something a lot of girls deal with during puberty as growing up can literally make you clumsier as your body adjusts. Having a character who tries to be positive and tries to find solutions who solves things with creativity instead of pure violence. Thats LOVELY for young girls to see.

Growing up I loved and admired Kim Possible, and probably would have loved Marinette, even if the shows not perfect I can admit its trying and I can see why people love it as much as they do! And why they write these fluffy sugary fics its the reason I WRITE fluffy sugary things.

Because even though I am frustrated and angry and disappointed with the show, I still see Alya’s potential and how great she is as representation to little girls who want a black female superhero so I write fluff where Alya’s loyalty, compassion, cleverness and her pursuit of justice are center stage.

I see how Adrien could be better and I want him to be better and I WANT him to be the naive funny comic relief the Ron Stoppable to Marinette’s Kim Possible. I want Adrien to grow and learn and spit in his dad’s face I want him to overcome the abuse and be happy. To show people that neglect and abuse doesn’t mean you will get stuck like that forever, that you can overcome that and be a better kinder person.

I want Nino and Kagami, and Luka and Chloe and the class to grow and get attention and have funny moments I want to laugh and make other people laugh! So I write prompts focused around comedy and shenanigans and where the characters get to be fun and silly and make decisions for themselves!

SO IN CONCLUSION:

I write salt AND sugar. I see the value and merit in both sides of the coin, and I respect how other people see the show. I know its easy to get angry with other people in the fandom who see the show differently then you do but please can we put down the weapons and just BREATHE.

Someone who writes salt might LOVE the same show as you, and they might in fact love it so much that they vent their frustrations in angst and salt and cracky fics. Let them vent about how they wish the show was better, leave their tags alone or block them if you cant stand to see it. But dont attack salt writers for ‘hating on your show’ when they might love it just as much as you do but want a way to vent out their feelings.

On the flip someone who writes sugar might NOT be forgiving the show for its flaws, they might see all the same flaws as you but decide to take that frustration and write fluff and fix it fics and sugar because they want to indulge in a version of their favorite show where everything is just... OK. Where everyone is well written and happy and the character development sticks. Stay out of their tags let them have their sugar, they aren't writing it to hurt you just like you don't write salt to hurt them.

So ENOUGH. Enough hunting each other down, enough sending each other hate, enough filling each others tags. Let people write SALT if they feel angry and vengeful and disappointment, let them have their tags, let them explore the dark side of the characters, let them rant and rave and be HURT when the characters they love upset them with their actions. Its not your place to tell them to stop, to tell them their feelings are invalid, to tell them that ‘adrien is sweet sunshine boy how dare you’ or ‘alya would never’ or ‘i hate your marinette leaves dupont au’. Just leave it be, heed the tags, and let it go.

AND ENOUGH. Enough hunting each other down, enough sending each other hate, enough filling each other tags. Let people write SUGAR if they just want something to feel happy about. Let them makes coffee shop au’s, let them make fix it fics where everything is just happy without needing 8 pages of backstory for why everything is just happy. Let them squeal and gush and talk about the ship they like and the fluff they see. Its not your place to argue with them that the show is flawed, its not cool to ruin their fun by accusing them of not understanding the flaws, to tell them ‘umm actual this character shouldn’t get to be happy’ or ‘wow this is so shallow’. Just leave it be, heed the tags, and let it go.

PS: Now with that said and done. I do have one final message for everyone - If you write/enjoy pedophilia, if you sexualize KIDS. Then get the fuck out of fandom spaces, stop fucking following me, and do everyone salt and sugar a favor by LEAVING. Your pedophilia and child sexualization aint wanted, aint ok, and I will fight you.

PSS: IF YOU HATE WHAT IVE SAID ABOUT SUGAR AND SALT FINE OK I RESPECT YOU REGARDLESS. ENJOY THE SHOW, STAY CLASSY, DONT HURT PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY HAVE A DIFFERENT OPINION.

[weneedglitter]

I went through @sunsetcurvecuddles ‘s whole touch-starved willie tag right before class and then wrote this instead of taking notes. Come get y’all soft willex content

read on AO3 here

The thing about being in a bad situation for a long time is that your body and mind go into survival mode. You learn what you can ask for, what you can expect, and cut down to only the most crucial systems. If you go without for long enough, you start to forget anything else was even an option.

The thing about leaving a bad situation is that it doesn’t take long for the unconscious parts of you to notice you’re safe and start making demands.

Willie never wanted for anything with Caleb. He had his skateboard, he had a place to live, he had plenty to eat. Sure, maybe he was a little lonely for companions his own age, but there were tons of people at the club willing to indulge his chatter. Caleb wasn’t the warmest person ever, but he was far from cruel to Willie.

It wasn’t until the mess with Julie’s band had opened Willie’s eyes to the lengths Caleb was willing to go to get what he wanted that Willie realized that “a little lonely” wasn’t the most appropriate term for his time at the club. The few days he spent with Alex shone brighter than the sun in his memory, and every day beside them became inky and lightless in contrast.

But Willie’s not there anymore. He’s still reeling from the knowledge that Alex came back for him, refused to leave him behind after the role, however well-meaning, that Willie had played in bringing the boys to Caleb.

Now every day has Alex, has Luke and Reggie and Flynn and the Molinas. They’re loud and gentle and indecorous and always take the time to make sure Willie’s comfortable.

They also give affection so freely Willie almost doesn’t recognize it for what it is. With Caleb, touching was a direction. If his hand landed on your shoulder, it meant you weren’t where you were supposed to be.

In retrospect, it makes sense why watching Julie drop an absent-minded kiss on Reggie’s temple in thanks for his help with her homework smacks Willie with a wave of yearning so intense he has to escape to the studio.

It doesn’t make sense, Willie thinks, sitting perched on the back of the couch. His new friends are a tactile bunch; it’s inescapable. He knows they’ve been giving him space to settle in, but they’ve welcomed him in with very literal open arms. He’s not starved for the high-fives and hand-holds and hugs they all give out like it’s as easy as breathing.

But he can’t stop replaying the tender press of Julie’s lips to Reggie’s hairline. He remembers the hug Alex gave him on the street the day of the Orpheum show and wraps his arms tightly around himself, trying to recall exactly how it felt.

Like the memory summoned him, Willie hears footsteps on the stone outside, and Alex slips through the door. Willie notes dazedly how at home he looks here.

Alex’s brow is furrowed. “Reg and Julie said you ran out in a hurry, is everything okay?”

“You know it, hot dog. Better now, though.” Willie’s voice doesn’t sound like he’s expecting, misses breezy by a mile and lands closer to desperate. He suddenly becomes aware that every muscle in his body is tense.

Alex raises both eyebrows. “Yeah, I buy that. What’s going on with you?”

Willie shrugs helplessly, or tries to. He’s still tense. “I guess I’m just realizing some stuff.”

“About… the club?” Alex asks, walking a little closer with his hands deep in his pockets. Willie nods, the out-loud acknowledgement that something’s wrong at all making the feeling stronger.

Alex steps up to sit on the back of the couch next to him, the same way the two of them sat on the bench the first day they met. Willie feels sick with how much he wants to lean into his side, rest his head on Alex’s shoulder, but he just wraps his arms tighter around himself. He feels like a coiled spring, muscles taut and ready to – to what? He doesn’t know. He wishes he could relax. His neck aches. He curls in on himself, pulling at the tight knots along his shoulderblades.

Alex moves to sling an arm around Willie, the way he does with the boys, the way Willie’s seen Reggie and Luke do more times than he can count, but Willie’s body registers the motion before his brain does and reacts without his permission. It’s not a flinch, just his muscles ratcheting impossibly tighter, but Alex still clocks it and freezes with his hand halfway through the space between them. His gaze is too intense, too searching, and Willie has to look away, tracing the floorboards with his eyes instead.

Alex slowly lowers his hand so it rests on the couch right beside Willie’s hip. If he moved his pinky an inch, it would make contact with the rough material of Willie’s shorts.

It’s not new. It’s not exciting. Alex is a very physical person, though Willie suspects it’s learned rather than natural. Willie has never been an exception to that rule; he can’t count how many times Alex has wrapped a hand around his arm to get his attention or bumped their knees together in silent communication.

It’s not new, and it’s not exciting, so it doesn’t make sense that Alex’s hand resting next to him has his blood rushing in his ears. He feels unsteady.

“What’s going on?” Alex repeats. Willie can’t seem to open his mouth to explain, but he doesn’t know what he would say even if he could. He doesn’t know what’s going on. “Shit, are you okay?”

Willie doesn’t want to say no, because he doesn’t know what’s wrong, doesn’t know why he’s not okay, but Alex must pick up on the tiniest shake of his head because he hops down from the back of the couch to plant one foot on the ground and the other knee on the cushions. His concern is growing. Willie turns his head to watch him move, stomach churning as he gets farther away but unable to reach for him. “Can I touch you?”

Willie nods vigorously before he can even think about it. Alex grips Willie’s upper arms, just above the elbow, and Willie shudders. His knees, which he didn’t realize were locked, go weak, and he slides uncontrolled down to the couch. Alex guides him to rest more securely on the cushions and sits next to him again, a little distance between them. Something in Willie aches.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks. “And don’t try to say it’s nothing, it obviously isn’t.”

“Um,” Willie says. He doesn’t want Alex to think he’s ignoring him, but it feels like there’s big blank spaces in the part of his brain where words go. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Alex replies. He’s too far away, Willie thinks. It would be easy to reach out. Alex would wrap him up without hesitation. Willie doesn’t move.

“Fortunately, Julie has a checklist for this kind of thing, because she’s a queen,” Alex continues. Willie’s pretty sure he would laugh at that, usually, so he huffs out a breath between dry lips. Alex leans closer again; the motion makes Willie realize his gaze has drifted away from Alex’s face again, fixated on the faded screenprint on his tshirt instead. Willie tries to drag his eyes up, but only makes it as far as Alex’s cheekbone.

“Okay,” Alex mutters. “Are you hungry?” Willie shakes his head. “Thirsty? No, okay. Tired?” He’s definitely a little tired, but that’s not the problem. “Cold?”

Now that Alex says it, his skin feels uncomfortably prickly, like he could start shivering despite the warmth of the air and both arms still clamped around his middle. “Yeah, I think that’s it. I’m too cold.” His voice comes out remarkably steady for how shaky he feels.

“Alright!” Alex says, cheered to have an answer he can take action with. “See, you gotta take care of yourself.” Willie knows Alex is better when there’s a problem with a solution right in front of him, something he can busy his hands with and see results. He looks around the room and locates a pair of blankets, snatching them up from the armchair. He puts one aside and drapes the second around Willie, leaving one arm across Willie’s shoulders. The proximity is dizzying.

“Better?” Alex asks, leaving one arm across Willie’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Willie gasps, like it was punched from him. Alex’s arm feels searingly hot even through the blanket and Willie’s shirt, his skin sensitive like the start of a fever. Maybe he really is getting sick. “Yeah, that’s better.”

It doesn’t feel better. It feels more, somehow.

Alex sees his ill-disguised discomfort and frowns, starting to pull away and give him space again. Willie almost sobs. A tiny noise escapes anyway, and Alex freezes for a second time. Then he slowly slides his arm back around Willie’s shoulders.

Willie is still so tense, it doesn’t surprise him when he starts trembling, minute shivers all over his body.

Alex wraps his other arm around Willie in a sideways hug. Willie’s teeth start chattering. “Wow,” Alex says, almost admiring, “You’re just all fucked up, huh?”

That makes Willie actually laugh a little. “I think you might be onto something there, hot dog.” He’s starting to feel lightheaded; there’s so much input, so many conflicting signals. He’s almost nauseous with how badly he wants to just slump into Alex’s embrace, let it be easy, leech off his body heat, but his muscles are wound taut on a winch outside of his control and everywhere Alex touches him it’s borderline painful.

He doesn’t know why this is happening. He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t want Alex to leave.

Like the universe is reading his thoughts, trying to find the one clear desire he can form just to yank it away, Alex starts to pull back and climb off the couch. Willie makes a tiny aborted movement to reach out and hold on. Alex still picks up on it, though.

“Hey, I’m just gonna move us around, okay? Just trust me.”

“Of course,” Willie says, too honest through his chattering teeth.

Alex takes the blanket and directs Willie to lie down on his side, spine flush with the back of the couch. He drapes the first blanket over Willie’s legs, tucking him in industriously, then squeezes onto the couch next to him and spreads the second blanket over both of them.

He shifts around so he’s lying fully on his side, facing Willie, pressed together all along their fronts. Willie’s eyes are level with his collarbone. Willie can feel the heat coming off him, the little puffs of his breath against the top of his head. He thinks he’d be dizzy if he wasn’t lying down. With the couch and the blanket and Alex in front of him, taking up his whole field of view, he feels surrounded, held on all sides. It’s so warm. He’s still shivering, muscles still tightly drawn, but the warmth of the safe little cave Alex has made is soaking in.

Alex slips an arm over his side, hand resting on the bare skin of Willie’s lower back where his shirt is riding up. Willie’s whole body trembles involuntarily; it feels impossibly warm, like it should be burning him, like when Alex pulls his hand away it’ll leave a mark, whirls of his fingerprints left behind on Willie’s skin.

“Is this okay?” Alex whispers. Willie nods, not trusting himself to speak with the way his breath catches on each inhale. “Stop me if it’s too much, yeah? Just tap me or something.” Alex slides his hand further around Willie’s back, under his shirt, calluses rough against his skin. He pulls Willie in so they’re pressed even closer together.

Alex’s hand spans wide over his spine, sweeping softly up and down. “It’s okay.”

That’s what does it; the tension releases like a snapping rubber band and Willie melts into Alex’s touch, locked muscles relaxing to send him slumping into Alex’s chest. His knees bend and tangle with Alex’s, forehead resting against his sternum. Alex ducks his chin to press his lips against the top of Willie’s head. “There you go.”

Willie’s breath shudders, caught between his mouth and the thin material of Alex’s tshirt. He squeezes his eyes shut. His throat feels tight, tears stinging at his eyes.

“Is this helping?” Alex asks, always checking in.

“Uh-huh,” Willie chokes out.

Alex hums and keeps lightly rubbing Willie’s back until his breathing evens out a little. Then he says, tone thoughtful, “When I figured out I was gay, I stopped touching the guys for two months.”

Willie looks up in surprise. Alex continues, “Yeah, I know, seems impossible. I just stopped initiating anything, pulled away any time Reggie or Luke were doing their thing, and eventually they stopped trying.” He laughs a little. “It was actually Bobby who talked to me about it. He said I was making Reggie think he did something wrong and I had to either cut it out or have a real good excuse.”

“What did you do?”

“Went back to the studio and sat on them.” The image makes Willie laugh. “I think they figured it out though, cause when I came out the year after I couldn’t get them off me for a week.”

Willie nods. That sounds about right. “What’s the moral of this story?”

Alex taps at his back chastisingly. “Don’t let it get this bad again, okay? You can always ask. I would do anything for you.” The mirror of Willie’s own words makes tears prickle at his eyes again, and he nods.

“Wasn’t on purpose,” Willie tries to explain. “I didn’t get any – any contact at the club, but you’re all so touchy, it should be more than enough.”

“Your tank’s empty,” Alex says. “You’ve been running on fumes for a long time, and we’re still operating at ‘be normal around the new person’ levels. You need what you need, and I can – we can give that to you.”

Alex moves his hand to run even farther up Willie’s back, finding the base of his neck with his arm still pressed hot along his spine. It’s an awkward angle but he gently digs his knuckles into the abused muscles. Willie groans. “Oh my god.”

“God,” Alex echoes. “Seriously, why didn’t you say anything? How long have you been feeling like this?”

“I don’t know,” Willie repeats, truthfully. “I think… I’ve been all fucked up for so long I didn’t even notice anymore.”

Alex moves his knuckles in a steady circle. Willie’s eyes roll up in his head. “Hhholy shit.”

Alex laughs, brushing little strands of Willie’s hair aside with his fingertips. “Willie, can I wash your hair later?”

Just the idea knocks the breath right out of him. “I might actually die.”

Alex laughs, shaking Willie with how tightly they’re pressed together. “That’s all it takes, huh.”

“You know I’m a rulebreaker. I couldn’t stand a conventional death. Here lies Willie, his boyfriend played with his hair and his soul left his mortal body.”

Alex’s hand stills. “Boyfriend?”

Willie tenses for all of a second before Alex digs his thumb back into the base of Willie’s neck and he goes limp again. “I mean – I kind of thought – if you want –”

Alex cuts him off before he can work himself up. “Chill out, you sound like me.” There’s a weird note to his voice, and Willie is startled to realize that Alex is nervous. “Boyfriend, though. I’m, yeah, I’d like that.”

“You’re into that?” Willie asks, nearly teasing.

“I’m into you,” Alex says, and Willie has to press his face into the space between Alex’s body and the couch to hide his smile.

The thing about leaving a bad situation is that you start realizing just how much you’ve been missing out on. Willie, cocooned in Alex’s arms, is learning that the thing about landing in a great situation is that you don’t have to miss out anymore.

[nohoney]

Tell Me (When You’re Ready) - 4.1

notes: Part 4 of the Us Series also on ao3

Us Series Masterlist

warnings: 18+, drug use, polyamory, low key manipulation, toxic relationships, cheating

summary:

He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. 

4.1 ✧ 4.2 ✧ 4.3 ✧ 4.4

At first glance, Touya didn’t really think much of you the first time he had seen you.

You were just another random party goer to him, one of many he saw whenever he attended those kinds of things, easier to just sell to his clientele if they conglomerated in these kinds of functions, though with the slightly older ones they have to blend in better since they’re technically crashing a house party. University students, upcoming freshmeat, recently graduated alumni and some of their plus ones or more, it’s so easy to tell who the veterans are versus the greenhorns.

The ones who can hold themselves together versus the ones that need to be carried, the ones who can hold there liquor versus the ones that need to be babysat, the strong versus the weak.

And you were that in between, walking around cross faded with eyes that looked lost in space but when someone put a hand on your shoulder then you would come back to earth, but not with your feet touching the ground. Like your feet just barely skimming the surface but still wanting to float in the sky, streaming through a pleasant haze just a bit longer until the high ends and you’ll have no choice until it’s time to walk amongst the animals again.

You sat on the couch with a few girls, talking amongst themselves and no doubt grouped together to protect one another from the predators; who could resist drunk and weak girls, especially the ones who looked the most broken. The eyes of the boys on your group and hoping to try to break into the circle and pick off the weakest to break away the pack. They get especially eager when the group wants to drink more, but you and two friends decide to go outside to smoke a joint instead.

“I’m drunk, I need’a go outside.”

The first words he ever heard you say, though not the first he’s heard but it sounded cute the way you slurred them out.

His eyes followed you briefly, holding hands with a friend as you made your way to get to the outside for a smoke.

“Yo Dabi! Good to see you man!”

He passed discreet little baggies, pink and blue tablets, little pills, he always gets a pat on the back from the boys and winks from the girls.

The girls like him, more than a few offering a little something extra when he makes a successful sale. Two of his whores are at this party, the decent flings he goes back to every so often when he wants to get his dick wet and when they want his goods.

Good dick and good drugs, it’s nice to get a two for one sale.

The second time he sees you at the party, he’s just leaving a room and fixing his belt while you sit at the top of the stairs with a friend. You and your friend are engrossed in your conversation, more than likely a similar talk happening somewhere inside the house party because you talked about your regrets of the way you and your ex broke it off, just more drunk girl talk. “It was so… so fuckin’ stupid dude, I was drunk and he showed up. We fucked but whe’ I woke up the next day, I fuckin’ left and just didn’t talk to him again.”

The second thing he ever heard you say but Touya literally passed by three girls half an hour ago that had a similar conversation, yours was nothing special.

Touya always denies drinks, offers of lines and other things when he goes to these kinds of functions, he needs a clear mind when he deals. He’s not dumb as fuck when he’s high or when he’s on, he can handle himself quite well and could sell just as well even if he were, he just doesn’t want to be relaxed around people that he doesn’t know that well or trust. It would have been nice if Keigo tagged along but the fucker’s Adderall hadn’t worn off in time to accompany him. Keigo gives him a good break from the others, kinda resets him and then he goes back to his business.

But Keigo isn’t around so Touya settles for plowing girls in random rooms of the house to give him a brief recess and then he’s back out there.

The third time he sees you, you’re leaning against the body of a young man just a little taller than Touya but nothing in the way he holds you shows that he has any ill intentions towards you. It feels rare sometimes to see two people having a platonic friendship, especially between two people of the opposite sex. Touya’s already sold your friend whatever he wanted but sticks around to make conversation, though it’s an excuse because he can’t help but note the way you’re being held in your friend’s arms. He tries to not make it obvious as he talks but truthfully, Touya wanted to just look at you. It’s obvious that there’s nothing romantic in the way your friend holds you but for some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him.

Even with his eyes up on your friend, he can see how you cling to your friend’s body with your arms wrapped around him so securely and with so much trust. Touya notes how you’re practically purring as your friend pets your head, sometimes massaging the tips of his fingertips against your scalp and then rubbing your shoulder in comfort. And he can see how you peeked up at him a few times, your curious eyes on him but Touya recognizes the cloudy way you look up at him. It’s not out of interest in the way you looked at him but probably just wondering why he was around.

Eventually you stop looking at him and choose to shut your eyes, concentrating on your friend petting your head instead.

“You want to try anything (Name)? Dabi’s got the best shit I’ve ever had, pretty fucking primo.” your friend had offered but you shook your head and said no. And goddamn if it wasn’t the cutest no that Touya’s ever heard in his life, the third thing he's ever heard you say. “Girl’s been pretty curious about wanting to try coke but she hasn’t worked up the nerve to actually give it a try. You know what, lemme buy a half off you too and maybe this’ll be the night that she finally gives it a try.”

Touya went home wondering if you lost your cocaine virginity that night.

That question wouldn’t be answered until a couple month’s later after you and him shared a philosophy class together. Touya remembered you very clearly but for some reason, his gut twists a little when you spoke to him the first time and it’s clear that you didn’t remember him from the party. He decides to forgive you for not remembering him because he feels like he can’t stay mad at you, not with that cute face you have.

But it’s just like at the party, you don’t seem particularly interested in him but Touya’s interested in you so he decides to seek you out more. He starts to crave your attention but he doesn’t want to look like a fool if it’s a one-sided attraction so he lays the charm on you, calls you pretty names that he’s never used on other girls. At first Touya thinks that you can just be girl number nine, hopefully another easy hole for him to use when he has an itch to scratch.

Now Touya’s fucked a lot of girls. He’s taken innocent girls virginities before and he’s had some pretty wild sex with the campus sluts, but there’s something different about you. You’re not a prude, not in the way you flirt back and insinuate wanting to take a seat on his face sometimes, but you’ve got some untouched parts of you that he wanted to lay a claim on. He’d show you new things and hold your hand over what you’d be too scared to do on your own or with others, he’ll watch over you. Imagine his giddiness the first time he ever cut lines of coke for you, it turned out that your cocaine virginity belonged to him this entire time.

"Oh... it's not that bad!"

You took that line so good, how about you take my cock next?

You tease him, playing coy one moment and then acting like nothing happened next.

And normally with bitches that do that shit with him for too long, Touya drops them pretty fast and moves on to the next. A little flirting and teasing is fine but he’s not looking to play a long term game with that kind of bullshit, it’s either happening or it’s not.

But with you it’s different.

You’re different.

Touya starts to obsess over you so slowly that he doesn’t even recognize it at first. All he knows is that he has to have you, he ghosts four of his whores in favor of being with you even though there wasn’t a guarantee that he would get in your pants. He just dropped the ones that he sought for sex only, the other half are still his clientele so he keeps those ones around, plus they're still decent lays. Keigo notices it, the way his friend talks over some girl that he hasn’t even fucked yet and letting go of four of his side whores has him thinking, ‘Wow, she must be something to get Touya’s attention this bad.’

The semester starts to come to an end and he still hasn’t bagged you yet, he calls you his doll but you haven’t let him play with you. He places one of his whores face down and ass up after she does a few lines, imagines that it’s you underneath him and what you might sound like and its your ass he’s grabbing. Touya can imagine it, you weak underneath him and begging for his cock but when the bitch under him whines out ‘Dabi’, he almost loses his boner. He tells her to shut the fuck up and bite the pillow, doesn’t want to hear her stupid sounds because he wants to envision you instead.

But even imagining you calling him Dabi feels wrong, Touya rolling off your pretty lips as he paints your insides white… it blows him over the edge.

In his mind that’s what he wants, but you don’t get the right to call him by his real name. He doesn’t know you like that so you’re just like everyone else for now, referring to him as Dabi. At some point he figures that this fixation he has on you will burn out soon. And yet Touya finds himself drawn further to you, wanting you more and more, doesn’t want you to wander too far away from him and wants to know who you’re with when he’s not by your side.

And he wanted to fuck you too, so fucking bad.

His first try was with a night cap at his place, the first time Touya ever had a girl over in his space. But it seems you know your limitation on alcohol and don’t let him pour you an extra drop, wanting to be able to drive yourself home and be in decent shape for your lectures. He smokes you up one day and it goes in a good direction, you were relaxed and sending him some good signals that lead to the two of you making out. It didn’t go further because he got a phone call from his mother that he couldn’t possibly ignore, but you thought ‘Oh a mama’s boy, that’s so sweet.’

It’s the third time that he finally gets you, playing music in his car that gets you in the mood and that gets you naked in his backseat. He doesn’t know what made you ready all of a sudden but he didn’t stop to ask as you fervently sucked him off. You were more riled up than him, so excited to get his dick and that eager look in your eye when you commanded him to blow your back out. And he sure did not disappoint, he never disappoints when it comes to his dick.

And a relationship persists forward to the surprise of both of you, liking each other more than you thought you would but there were no labels yet, Touya wasn’t used to having a girlfriend so he didn’t want to call you that at first and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Neither of you really spoke about what you were to one another despite the attraction and the lazy build of emotions that neither of you were aware of in the beginning. All Touya knew was that he wanted you to be around him more and be waiting for him when he returned back to his apartment.

It’s difficult to say when mutual attraction turned into the of you catching feelings for one another. You and Touya were hooking up for a couple of weeks after the end of the semester of the one class you shared together, and while he was aware that you were a little disgruntled at him fucking the girls he sells to, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time. Didn’t he make it obvious that you’re different from them and that he only cared about you? So what if he got his dick wet from other girls aside from you? He’d been doing it before he started seeing you but he always came back to you afterwards, so why were you so pissed?

“It’s just business doll.”

It wasn’t official between the two of you yet so there wasn’t much you could say at the time. You just figured that if Touya liked you so much then he would stop and Touya figured that since you liked him just as much then you would understand.

But Touya remembers that night when he left to go sell at another house party, trying to spend time with you before he had to leave but you wouldn’t let him. He knew you were mad again because he just came back from selling to one of his whores which meant that, ‘Yes, she offered her pussy when I got there so we fucked.’ He honestly did not understand where your jealousy was coming from. You were there, sitting in his apartment and spending nights in his bed, he was doing shit with you that he’d never done with anyone else and you were still getting mad at him.

How did you not get that you were different from the rest of them?

But Touya wasn’t going to put more effort into making you feel better when you didn’t want to be cheered up, so he left to do his usual thing.

And when he came back to his apartment earlier than expected, which was only one in the morning, he found that your car was not in the guest parking and therefore you were not waiting for him inside his home. He tried ringing you to find out if you went back to your place but it went straight to voicemail so he goes to your home in hopes that you would have been there instead. But you’re not there when he arrives and you don’t answer his texts and phone calls still don’t go through."Fucking bitch! Where the hell are you?"

Touya can stay up until three in the morning at most if he’s not on anything but that night was the only night he had ever stayed up by just being angry alone. He was riled up and emotions all over the place, hands shaking so bad that he needed to punch something, almost considered putting his fist through his wall. He was fucking furious because he knows immediately that you went out to be with someone else, went to get fucked by some scum because you wanted to be a vindictive little cunt about what happened earlier.

He had practically barged into Keigo’s place and shook him awake in his bed because he didn’t know who to turn to.

“She’s out getting fucked. I fucking know she is!”

“Wha-? Touya…” Keigo groggily sat up in his bed and brushed off Touya's hands off his shoulders, blonde hair a mess from tossing and turning but he gives his friend his undivided attention. He hadn’t met you yet, had only seen pictures and nudes of you that Touya shared with him, but he’s pretty shocked over how outraged Touya is. He’d never seen his friend get so worked up over one girl before, so it speaks volumes to him to see Touya so unhinged. “What makes you say that? Maybe she’s out with friends or something. Just because she’s not back in her place doesn’t mean that she’s getting with another dude.”

But Touya’s gut said otherwise and he insisted that it was right.

“Okay man, I’m going to put some things in perspective for you. I don’t know this girl but it’s obvious that you’re into her… like a lot, but I can’t really blame her for going out to be with someone else if that’s what she’s doing right now. She can still go do what she wants just as much as you can. If you guys haven’t defined what you are to one another, especially with how you operate, then you don’t have much of a right to be telling her what to do.”

Touya was livid when you returned to your apartment, angry that you had the audacity to be so spiteful with him and furious at the thought of you underneath someone that wasn’t him. It fucking hurt him because he didn’t fuck the whores to make you angry, they didn’t mean anything to him compared to you. But in the aftermath of hatefucking turning into lovemaking, he still mulled over Keigo’s advice, deciding that maybe it would make you happy to call you his girlfriend if it meant that you wouldn’t go behind his back again. You're his favorite, his number one, his only one, if reassuring is what he has to do then he'll put up with it as long as he doesn't have to say it too often. And fine, if it really bugged you that much then he decided to make it fair by giving you permission to sleep with who you wanted provided that you always came back to him the same that he did with you.

Except that after he put it out there, he immediately regretted putting the offer out but knew that a fight would surely begin if he decided to take it back. Once again the thought of you being with someone else had got his teeth grinding and gave him anxiety. You’re his fucking girl, his precious doll that deserved to be put on a throne and be given whatever you wanted. Touya wanted nothing more than to protect you from assholes who didn’t appreciate you like your dumbass ex-boyfriend.

“(Name)’s really great, I’m glad the two of you are together. Though are you sure you’re okay with her seeing other guys too? I know you said it to be fair to her but I see you get bent out of shape if she’s even around just one of her guy friends.” Keigo puffed on cigarette, tapping some of the excess ash off the tip before returning the filter to his lips. “You really going to be okay if she decides to get picked up by another dude?”

Touya let out a frustrated sigh as he lit his third cigarette in a row; you’d be pissed if you found out but he was fortunate that you would be out for a few hours so he had time to clean away the evidence. “They’re gonna treat her like shit, I know the assholes out there would but if I take it back, she’s going to get pissed. She didn’t even fucking apologize for fucking someone else behind my back. I don’t want her to be used by someone else, she’s not a whore.”

“Correction, you mean she’s your whore.”

The only one who understood his way of thinking was Keigo.

There’s a night where you sleep in your own apartment while Touya and Keigo sit outside your complex, leaning against his car and just looking at the balcony that they know is attached to your place. A six pack of beer sits on the hood of the car, two slots empty as they each hold a bottle in their hand. Keigo quietly admits to him, “I think I might like (Name) Touya. Like I think I like her a lot, more than just wanting to fuck her and more than just as a friend.”

Touya quietly takes in Keigo’s confession and just nods his head, still looking up at your balcony and hoping that you’re sleeping well. He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. He hesitantly admits back, “… I think I love her.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah, wow…”

“You really think you love her?” Keigo asked after polishing off his first beer. “What about that whole arrangement thing? If you tell her you love her, she might question you since, you know, you’re still fucking other girls. If you love her then she’ll expect you to be monogamous with her.”

“If she still takes me up on that arrangement, I don’t think I can handle it. Only people who love her should be allowed to fuck her.” In other words, only he should be the only one to have you. No one else loves you like Touya does, he’ll fucking kill any asshole that thinks they can use you as their fucktoy. When Keigo asks again about the other girls, he growls at him and tosses his bottle onto the concrete. “I’m fucking working on that, alright. I just… don’t know how to fucking commit. It’s too fucking hard to do this by myself.”

Keigo just pops the cap off another bottle and hands it to Touya. “Would it help if I joined the relationship? I’m sure we can work something out with (Name), provided she’s willing.”

Touya would observe you and Keigo together, you oblivious to his friend’s flirtations at times and mistaking it as him just being very friendly. He could see golden eyes wandering down your body, already knowing what you looked like without any clothes and how pretty you look when you’re gagging on a dick because Touya’s shown him your nudes and recorded videos of you. Keigo can try to hide and put up a front that he’s just lusting over you but Touya can see that his friend has got that little lovestruck glint in his eyes when he looks at you; and honestly, he’s not even upset about it. The vision of you and Keigo together, it makes him comfortable rather than the anxiety he feels when he thinks about you with someone else. They obsess over you together, you blissfully unaware of how tortured Keigo was sometimes that he couldn’t plow his cock into you because you saw him as just a friend.

So he takes up Keigo's offer.

He was hoping that the transition to introduce Keigo into the relationship would go smoother, but it only comes up after a fight when he brings you with him to a house party for the first time.

God, Touya didn’t mean what he said to you that night when you and Keigo rolled together; he was just frustrated because he didn’t know what he could do to show you that you meant more to him than you knew. No matter how much he reassured you, you kept on letting your stupid insecurities get in the way!

“C’mon man, one minute you’re telling me you love her and now all of a sudden you’re breaking up with her?” Keigo scolds him, unaware that you leave the both of them behind and duck into the house.

“I’m not trying to break up with her! I’m just— fuck, she just doesn’t get that… fuck!”

He’s at a loss of words, he doesn’t want to be mad at you but you couldn’t get over your hangups over the side whores. They weren’t his other girlfriends, not his side bitches, or anything like that. Touya literally only sees them for probably twenty minutes max on the occasion they hit him up, nothing compared to all the time dedicated to you. They can claw at his dick however much they want, that’s all they want from him anyway aside from the pills and powders he sells to them. If it gets them to shut up then fine, but Touya will never spend a second longer with them when he’s finished using them. He doesn’t give a fuck if they whine about not cumming, he never promised them an orgasm when he gives the whores his cock.

He obsesses over you, not them; he cares for you, not them; he only wants you, not them.

Stop being jealous, it's just you!

Keigo finally talks him down but they realize that you’re not around.

Touya searches the outside perimeter of the house while Keigo searches inside. You’re rolling, barely able to take care of yourself and they have no idea where you are. All the worst case scenarios run through his head like you wandering into the night and getting kidnapped, hit by a car while walking down the road, he wonders if you’re still at the house and possibly getting raped because you can’t fight back if someone forces themselves on you. He drives himself crazy with his own imagination and you won’t answer your fucking phone!

To his relief Keigo informs him that he found you locked inside one of the bedrooms, having mixed cocaine, ecstasy, and alcohol because you were upset about what happened. He’s a veteran, Touya’s mixed plenty of times within his boundaries of tolerance but you’ve never done it before so he worries instantly for your wellbeing. The only thing that he can think of what to do to help you is to bring you a fresh bottle of water, you’re probably dehydrated as hell.

He feels awkward as hell when he arrives to the room, standing off to the side as Keigo fusses over you. He’s able to comfort you with the right words in your state of mind, adding in kisses and sweet caresses to your body to help calm you, something that Touya feels unable to do at the moment. But Keigo fixes you up and nods for him to approach you, a little hurt that you whine for Keigo to stay.

But he has to admit his mistake, that he should have been more attentive to you when he brought you with him, even if he trusted Keigo to look over you the entire time. You’re upset, of course you’re upset with him, and he doesn’t want you to be mad at him anymore. So he decides to give you a right he should have bestowed to you a long time ago, you’re not allowed to call him Dabi anymore. It’s the only way he knows to make it up to you and show you that you’re important to him.

Don’t be mad at me anymore babydoll, I’m yours.

You’re a stubborn little thing at first, still insisting on calling him Dabi but he made you come around. His name falling from your lips just sounds so perfect, it sounds right as you choke up on pleasure and come undone with a scream of his name.

Touya imagines that night you went behind his back because you were mad at him, freezing for just a quick moment that you would do the same thing the next time you became angry with him, except now he had given you full permission. You hadn’t taken advantage of the arrangement and didn’t seek anyone out so far, he’s thankful for that, but he has to lock down Keigo into the relationship so that he can secure you.

Touya literally walked out of the house earlier to find you and Keigo making out, surely you can’t believe you can do that on ecstasy and still believe that everything is platonic. He has to put the truth out there, you deserve to know it, no one else would treat you so good like they would.

“He thinks you’re adorable. I talk about your pussy all the time with him. How fucking cute it is, how tight it gets when you get choked, and when you cum all over yourself. He wants to fuck you open so bad.”

“Touya, don’t say that! He’s just a friend!”

“A friend who wants to fuck you.”

He probably could have been more eloquent with his words but he gets his point across to you regardless.

“I gave you permission to fuck who you want doll, Keigo is not the worst person you could choose. In fact, I’d like it if he were the one to keep you warm for me.”

And he can see how realization hits you, Keigo further supporting the claim by coming onto you as well. What you used to perceive his actions as friendly, you thought otherwise now. It’s a truth that you can’t unlearn now that he’s put it out there, but he hopes that you fucking take the bait. If you reject Keigo coming into the relationship, he truly won’t be able to handle the possibility of you seeking someone else out.

He’d fucking go crazy.

That is not an exaggeration.

Everything goes smoothly though, you returning hand in hand with Keigo with that cute, embarrassed look on your face when you asked where the ‘proper threesome’ should take place. He doesn’t know what Keigo said to you or what you said to him in order to reach the desired conclusion but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter because he got what he wanted.

You’re right where Touya wants you.

It feels good to know that when he’s out, Keigo is there to be with you in his place.

Everything feels perfect when he’s with you, he won’t lose you to anyone, you’re so fucking good for him, so fucking loyal to him and Keigo that even when you have your own doubts, you fall in line with what he wants anyway. He knows what’s best for you, what you need and what you don’t need. You don’t have to worry about anything because you’re watched over and cared for. He cares for you all the time like when you’re drunk, high, rolling, cross faded, sick, depressed, and everything in between.

But admittedly there are moments when his own anxiety gets the best of him, sometimes Touya looks at you and suddenly wants to run to the hills. He pops a few oxys to try to calm him down sometimes but they’re not always effective. When the pills don’t help, he hopes one of the whores hits him up to ask for a pill or a baggy and he can pretend that he’s living his old life before you came along because that’s what he’s most familiar with. He thinks you’re too good to be true at times and he follows the instinct to self sabotage by still returning to the whores. And every single time without fail when he returns to you, he feels his chest constrict as soon as you’re in his sights.

It’s no secret to you when he goes out to see them, he comes back smelling like artificial fruit or sweet candy, and he sees how you bristle when he tries to come near you. You’re angry at him but choose to remain silent because it’s an argument that’s long exhausted, he feels guilty that he still can’t commit himself to you fully but swears that one day it will happen. One day he’ll defeat that monster inside him that tempts him to ruin everything he’s built with you. But until then, Touya wants to make it up to you every single time. Food and drinks are an easy way to placate you but his favorite is when you agree to house roll with him because no matter what you end up gravitating to him during the roll and lean on him during your come down.

Sensual make outs while on ecstasy when you’ve reached the peak and then comfortable silence during the come down as you wallow together in a brief period of depression, it’s when he feels the closest to you.

And you don’t know this because he hasn’t been ready to say anything, but he’s already told you that he loves you.

The first time he says it, it’s past the six month mark of the relationship and just a little after Keigo is inducted into it as well. Nothing special in particular had happened to make him say it, you went to bed early because you stayed up way too late the night before and you just needed the extra hours of rest. He smoked a joint to relax, hopped in the shower to clean up, and he tip toed quietly in the room to make sure he didn’t disturb you. You barely flinched as he turned on the light in the room, unaware at how much Touya stared down at you as you slept. He took in your features and marvels at how peaceful you look when you’re asleep.

“I love you.” he says for the first time to you out loud.

You shift a little and emit a quiet, nondescript sound and he panics briefly that you might have heard him. Relief floods through him as you simply mumble and nuzzle the pillow, continuing to rest and none the wiser to the confession that Touya spoke into the air. But a weight is off his shoulders as he climbs into bed with you and is ready to sleep alongside you.

So he tells you he loves you when he knows you can’t hear him like when you’re deep in slumber, when you have your headphones on and just blast your music, or just right when you walk out the door after kissing him goodbye. He’s brave enough in those moments to say it but not brave enough to actually tell you just yet.

There’s one night where he thought you were going to say it first, and if that was the case then Touya would happily reciprocate it back.

You were hanging onto him for dear life as Touya rammed his cock into you, your hands clutching his shoulders and the back of your head digging into the mattress with your back arched off the bed. Touya had been mean to you all night by edging you, pulling out just as you’re about ready to burst and relishes in your desperate cries. You promise him you’ll do anything he wants but please please please, don’t just leave you like this. It’s only when you’re at your most desperate that Touya decided to give you the orgasm he’d been denying you.

“Such a desperate fucking whore. Were you thinking about my cock the entire day you were out?” Touya growled into your neck before nipping down on a sensitive spot as he jackhammers his dick into your pussy. “You were fucking drenched in your panties when you walked through that door. You love my dick so much that you think about it all the time huh?”

Your hands clutch onto his shoulders and Touya’s hips move to fuck you until you pass out from cumming so hard. You’ve been fucked stupid plenty of times and you just blearily look up at him as he utterly uses you to his satisfaction. There are plentiful memories of when you’ve told him you loved his dick in the frenzy of the moment, nothing but praises for his cock and how good he rams it in and out of you. It’s so fucking cute when you’re dick drunk and you slur out all your words. But Touya swears that you say it a little bit differently, straining his ears to make sure he heard you right. His hips don’t falter in their pace but he wants to know that he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

“I love… it…. cock… I love… yo…” shaky breaths leave your lips, shuddering gasps as your whole body trembles at what is sure to be an earth shattering orgasm. “S’fucking good… love ih… Love… yo— ahhh!”

Your whole body tenses and your back arches off the bed as high as your body allows, toes curling as you cum all over Touya’s cock and he cums alongside you. But even in the wreckage of your orgasm, you’re still choking out those breathless words that he was straining to comprehend just a few seconds ago. He wanted you to enunciate more, he should have slapped your cheek and made you speak clearly otherwise he would edge you again but the idea comes much too late now that you’re a boneless, brain fucked mess beneath him with his cum leaking out of you.

He fucked you too good, you’re asleep within seconds after Touya pulls out of your pussy and he’s a little disappointed that he couldn’t draw those words out of you.

Turquoise blue eyes look down at you, so vulnerable and pretty right before him. You look perfect and so comfortable in his bed that for a few seconds he’s inconceivably happy. You’re completely unaware of the power you have over him, how easily you could kill him without even trying. He’ll break if you leave him and he’ll break you if you try to leave him.

Don’t leave me.

You stay curled up in the bed and snuggled into his pillow even though you have your own on your side of the bed. A few minutes have passed and Touya thinks it’s safe to say it again, confess his heart into the silence of the room and while you’re unconscious to avoid being vulnerable; he’s just not ready yet. It would make his life so much easier if you said it first out loud but he also thinks that it would make you really happy if he were to say it first.

He knows you’ll be happy once the words are put out there, whether he says it first or you do.

Until then, he says it quietly and in the safety of his room while you rest peacefully.

“I love you.”

[amispnrewatch]

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

[lilyclawthorne]

Keeping Up A-fear-ance's Thoughts

I finished writing this shortly after 3 am after watching the new episode like three times because I simply had too much energy about it and I have so many thoughts because I simply live for clawthornes and also I tried to break it up with more photos this time sorry not sorry if it's a lot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

YOUNG EDA!! let me just say I am quite a fan of opening with a flashback like we've done here and the last episode

"we have never seen a curse like this before" Lilith you had shit luck picking out curses huh

"cut it out if we have to" goddamn Gwen let'a calm the fuck down a bit.

anyways we've only really seen young Eda as a wild and confident and happy little child so I appreciate seeing this side of her with the anxiety and fear she's feeling here. I love seeing what the curse stuff was like for her as a kid

Gwen: I raised a perfectly fine kid

Me: no you didn't look at her she's got anxiety

I'm guessing this is their backyard or just some woods behind their house?? wonder if the portal was placed there by another elder family member.

lmao I can't even begin to imagine what small Eda experiencing the human realm was like for the first time

Gwens giving me "I can't accept that my child is disabled/chronically ill/etc." here. y’know the kinda parent that'll put their kid through hell over something they probably will find a way to learn to live with (which Eda did do)

ok that's it I humbly request to know the story behind the fang now (also the noise she made when she put it in was freaking cute)

new dress! new boots! new dress! new boots!

..yikes that fridge is empty

"calm down the curse acts stronger when you're stressed" Eda do you know who you're talking to here

confirmation losing limbs is in fact a side effect of the curse!! (y'know since Eda originally said it just happens when you get older)

please I love these sisters they're so sweet and make me wanna go 🥺

"suddenly curious about my past" "always. always curious" Luz says exactly what we all think

witchlet?? sweet flea?? she's got pet names for them 🥺 (although idk how much I'd like to be referred to as any kind of flea sorry Lilith)

ok Gwen is very much not close to what I expected and I'm kinda grateful for that

she's more like super caring but still managed to royally fuck up which was my original head canon for clawthorne parents so uh that's cool. but literally, look at their body language, Eda's pissed, Lilith's sad and making herself small. she's clearly messed up with her parenting on both of them along the way.

"who knows what they put in those nasty concoctions?" mama clawthorne would be a fucking anti-vaxxer wouldn't she

ok I side with Eda here more than Luz and Lilith. just because Luz misses her mother, or Lilith hasn’t seen their mom in so long doesn’t mean Eda has to feel all grateful for the presence of Gwen, especially if the woman has caused her a lot of trouble over the years

I feel like the fact that its actually both Lilith and Gwendolyn have spent their whole lives dedicated to trying to find a cure could probably have held some kind of weight on Eda at some point. Even though she shouldn't feel guilty or responsible for that, I still feel like it's gotta suck knowing these people have spent so much time on something you know is likely never gonna happen, all for you.

Lilith 😞 her mother really just didn't pay attention to her all these years

hey if this guy does some next level healing magic then why isn't he more well-known, huh? why’d it take so long to come across him?? Gwen do you know what the fuck you're doing cause I think you don't

Lilith just because you're depressed about your mom doesn't mean you have to bring king down too 😠

SUPER irrelevant but is anyone else just bothered by the way Lilith is holding her spoon?? that doesn't seem like a comfortable way to hold a spoon. also is she left handed??

"knife season came early" EDA WHAT DOES THAT MEAN. is this a boiling isles things or is this a it’s common for people to throw knives at you thing

also I want to be surprised Eda fell for the apple blood signs but I am not 😔 

Luz please trust you're gut on this one and not mama clawthorne

ok now I need to know why the fridge was empty but they had 18 cartons of ice cream this is why you guys don't have food you're wasting it all on ice cream.

wow never thought I'd see the day hooty became the voice of reason

also, night market ice cream?? are they implying this ice cream is like, edibles of some sort?? Lilith does seem kinda high here ngl. idk man but at least she wants to stand up for herself so good for her.

PLEASE kings just offering her ice cream while she transforms

"first in a series" Gwen honey oh no. you've been duped. I think we can see where Lilith got her naïveté from huh.

Also, nice snatch Luz 😊

anyways love how this show is basically making fun of moms who refuse to give their kids proper medical treatment or listen to medical professionals here

EXCUSE ME why do we know Gwen's palisman's name before we know Lilith's?????

"I am a mother who'll do anything for her daughter" you're mom who's suffocating obsession with one daughter has left the other neglected and is currently causing her to turn into a full on beast ya dummy

Eda DOES have a right to be upset. it sucks that her own valid emotions that she should get to feel will cause her while body to betray her.

PLEASE I’M SO GLAD LILITH’S BEAST DESIGN LOOKS LIKE HER AND IS NOT THE THING FROM THE TRAILER THAT IS ACTUALLY IN EDA"S HEAD WHEN SHE’S TRANSFORMED

but also why is she SO massive?? also anyone concerned that this is her first transformation and the light glyph trick wouldn't even work??

Gwen look at what you've done, you've fostered feelings of inferiority in one daughter causing her to feel the need for sibling rivalry that the pure instincts of the raven beast cannot suppress no matter how much their sisterly relationship had improved.

HOW COULD YOUR OTHER DAUGHTER ALSO BEING CURSED BE A PART OF THE PROCESS GWEN??

"after Eda was cursed, I joined the beast keeping coven" woah woah WOAH. you're telling me you only joined because of trying to help Eda. that covens existed, before Eda got cursed, and you very much weren't a part of one. combine that with "some words for belos" she has and do I smell wild witch theory still plausible???

anyways at least mama clawthorne is getting some sense into her head here

Morton c'mon help a girl out, that's some dang good art too what the heck dude

ok fine mama clawthorne to the rescue

no pls not raven beast Lilith crying im crying now

Gwen: I raised a fine and self-sufficient child

Me: no you didn't look at her. she's got, SO MUCH.

GODDAMN THATS SOME POWER. ngl this only adds fuel to the fire in my head that there was some kinda reasoning these sisters were torn apart, that someone felt they'd be too powerful together (and they were probably right)

"I heard you but I couldn't stop myself, I couldn't do anything" may be just because she's not used to the curse but again part of me is concerned that because she couldn't pull herself out of it even a little bit like Eda did that there's something wrong there. but she also could've been stressed beyond reasonably calming herself down too.

ok but this is sweet

NOOO im so sad Lilith's leaving :( I literally cried ok

"you lived here?" fine OKAY king that was hilarious even if im sad about this

"reconnect with dad" excuse me where the fuck has this man been in the middle of all of this. curse shit is going DOWN and he's just chilling at home.

I am curious about people's thoughts regarding the whole Lilith regression thing and the fact that she's literally going to be living with her parents again. I feel like it could help nurture that inner child she's been reverting back to and help her out a LOT. but I could also be concerned about it feeding into the regression and making it worse?? idk and this show probably ain't getting that actually deep into psych anyways

"some day my hair is gonna be big enough to do that too" Luz I cannot wait for the day. also mood, I wish I could do that too.

alright who's holding the fucking pen for hooty we need a volunteer RIGHT NOW so we can remain in contact with Lulu

NOT THE ONLY HUMAN? my bets on the real azura rip never mind she said he

Titan’s Blood?? interesting. If the blood of the titan is around I wonder what that means regarding the titans existence, and how long its been since the titan fell.

AHH BABY LUZ PHOTO

ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?? They're really gonna spring that on us like this??? Camila's gotta notice somethings wrong right??? Unless any differences she just chalks up to the camp?? oh god :(

well, anyways lumity shippers come get yo juice next weekend

anyways im gonna need to add a NOT canon compliant tag on that one Gwendolyn fic I wrote because it definitely do not comply anymore

[styleswithaseaview]

ev’s 600 follower writing challenge

first off, i’d like to say thank you so incredibly much for your undying support. you all truly mean the world to me, and i don’t know how the hell i got here but alas, you made it happen. i love you all.

tagging my lovely moots/taglist : @krasivayadarling @hoe4cedricdiggory @feliciamint @sugarywinterroses @faeinorbit @truly-insatiable @dianadiggory @animalcrackersinchurch @ceofcedric @annasdani @punkrific @anchoeritic @dogsandrocketsocks @jxsperhxle @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @inks-and-jinx @kmcedric11 @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516 @acosmis-t @thotbutpurple @randomoutsiders

alright, onto the fun part under the cut!

general rules:

NO: incest, r*pe, excessive detail of mental illness or self harm, or any extreme topics that could potentially be triggering.

knock yourself out with: fluff, angst, smut - although, do put warnings accordingly, as i will be linking these on this post.

characters: this is only for the harry potter universe! marauders era, golden era, lightning era, whatever you want! just tell me the name <3

how to enter -

tag me in your fic!!! i want to see them! and dm me or send me an ask to alert me if i don’t see it, i tend to get a lot of notifs and don’t always click through all of them.

no deadline for this! take the time you need <3

prompt list

warnings: some are nsfw/angsty! also be sure to check all of them out the last ones are some of the best but theres 95 so.

these aren’t all mine! it’s a menagerie of prompts i’ve found and made.

sorry for the alteration, but please limit your prompt choices to 3 per fic !

1. "Your hair is so soft.."

2. "It's too cold! Come back!"

3. "No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."

4. "C'mere, you can sit in my lap until I'm done working."

long nights in the library | c.d - @faeinorbit

5. "I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention."

6. "Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

won’t let you go | c.d - @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins

7. "What? does that feel good?"

8. "Just pretend to be my date."

9. "They did it." "No they did."

10. "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

11. "It's not a double date. We're just third and fourth wheeling."

12. "No no-it's alright, come here."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

13. "I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to have to suffer by yourself again, promise."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

14. "Look, I know we don't know each other that well, but I'm still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

15. "If could, I would kiss away all of your scars."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

16. "I think I might be falling in love with you."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

17. "Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all lday."

18. "It's not bad to cry. In fact, I think it makes a person stronger."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

19. "Mmm.. you're warm."

long nights in the library | c.d. - @faeinorbit

20. "You're SO cute when you're half asleep like this.."

long nights in the library | c.d. - @faeinorbit

21. "I've had a rough day and honestly all want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.."

22. "No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today."

23. "Shh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream, okay? None of it was real.”

24. "You know I'm/we're always here for you, right?"

25. "Please talk to me about it."

26. "You have something in you hair.. um-do you want me to get it out?"

27. | remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror.."

28. "I would've had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm and didn't want to wake you."

29. "I know I've kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please."

30. "Are you wearing my shirt?"

wont let you go | c.d - @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins

31. "Wanna, like-I mean, if you're not busy.. We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don'thave a lot of time?"

32. "So I was driving past a pet store andcouldn't help but wonder how cute an animalwould be like in our home.."

33. "Let's just stay in bed."

34. "We live together. You can't blame this on anyone else."

35. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

36. "Shooting star. Make a wish."

37. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

38. "Wow, you're hot."

39. “I want to marry you."

40. "I want to take a shower SO you should probably join me. It'll save water."

41. "You're just not the same anymore.."

42. "It's midnight! Where the hell were you?"

43. "What the hell is your problem?!"

44. "Why do you run away from your problems all the time?"

45. "You can't keep it all inside, you know? Bottling it up won't do any good."

here for you | s.b. - @confuscita

46. "Hey, I know you're hurting.. but, you're not alone, okay?"

here for you | s.b - @confuscita

47. I hate you! I'm sorry it took me so damn long to realize that."

48. "You lost your chance."

49. "I'm sorry if gave you the wrong impression."

50. "You can't just lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset!"

51. "Calm down! You're scaring me!"

52. "Don't look at me like that."

53. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

54. "I'm done trying to help you!"

55. "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

53. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

54. "I'm done trying to help you!"

55. "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

56. "You didn't call. You didn't text. Nothing."

57. "It isn't up for debate."

58. "I don't know what's wrong, okay? I'm just... really tired."

59. "I'm fine. Stop asking."

falling apart | s.b. - @daisyyy2516

60. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong, and don't try lying to me."

61. "I hope someday you get a taste of your own medicine."

62. "Pack your shit and go. Get the fuck out of my sight!"

63. "Is this how little you think of me?"

64. "I can't do this anymore.. not with you."

65. "Are you happy now? Huh? DOES THIS MAKE YOU HAPPY?!"

66. "You said you'd always be there for me... so how did this happened? Why weren't you there?"

67. "Did it ever occur to you that you're hurting me too?"

68. “I don't need help! I just want the pain to end.”

84. "Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier."

here for you | s.b - @confuscita

85. "You're jealous, aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."

86. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

87. 6 | can't believe you dragged me into this."

88. "Bite me." "'Eat me." "Kiss my ass."

89. "You think I'm dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?"

90. "You have to tell me why were committing a felony before we do it. Not that that's going to stop us, but at least I'll have all the facts."

here for you | s.b - @confuscita

91. "You weren't supposed to laugh! I'm so embarrassed!"

92. " I vote today be a pajama day."

93. "You’re such an idiot.” “I’m your idiot.”

94. "It's a real shame nobody asked for your opinion."

here for you | s.b - @confuscita

95. “I saw that. You just checked me out."

here for you | s.b - @confuscita

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

Driving Me Mad [G.W] - Part 7

Series Description: You and George come up with a plan to pretend to date each other. But what happens when you actually start to catch feelings...

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader 

Word Count: 1.9k

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @fadesbrina, @sweetlyblushedbouquet, @streetfighterrichie, @thatguppienamedbae, @wolfiepirate, @okbwtch, @sinnerskies, @broimjustvibin 

Description: The night of the Yule Ball has arrived and you have no plans to attend. Until a familiar face shows up and urges you to reconsider.

                                                          X

It was the night of the Yule Ball and you weren’t going. Once the school got word of your “breakup” with George it was all anyone could talk about. You became the bad guy, ridiculed for breaking such a sweet guy’s heart. The only slightly positive side to your uncoupling was that George was now the school’s most eligible bachelor. Every girl was vying for him now and even Fred was reaping some of these benefits. Girls figured if they couldn’t have George, Fred was the next best thing. You had to admit, you were surprised that Angelina and George weren’t the school’s next big couple. They were spending a lot more time together but there was little evidence of any exclusivity. Perhaps they were keeping it a secret just for the thrill of it. 

At the end of the day, you were feeling lower than ever. You were upset with yourself for messing things up with George. You shouldn’t have snapped at him and should have just talked rationally about the situation. But it was too late. The worst part was, hanging out with your usual group wasn’t fulfilling. You didn’t feel like you belonged with them any more and you started spending more and more time alone. 

You didn’t even want to think about the Yule Ball. This was a once in a lifetime event and you weren’t even going. You received no other escort offers after George and you split, not that you would have accepted any. 

Somehow you were coerced into going to the common room to gawk over all the dresses and see everyone off. You gave your most genuine smile and compliments as girl after girl twirled around and tried to hide their excitement. Once the last few had left, you pulled out a book and got comfortable in a corner armchair. The plan was to read a few chapters and head to bed early, quite the exciting night.

“Hey stranger,” you heard from behind. You turned around and saw an old friend standing behind you.

“Fred. Hey.” You were shocked to see him standing there in his finest dress robes. “Don’t you look dapper?”

“While I appreciate the compliment, I’m actually in a bit of a situation and I could use your assistance.” You were surprised that he was being so nice to you. You hadn’t spoken to him at all since you ended things with George.

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” By this point he circled around the armchair and took a seat on the ottoman in front of you.

“You see, I was supposed to go to the ball with this lovely girl from Beauxbatons but unfortunately she’s fallen ill and is unable to attend.”

You knew where this was going, “And…”

“And I didn’t get dressed up like this for nothing. “

“So go? I don’t understand where I fall in all of this.”

“Y/N, I can’t show up stag. That’s just not my style. Besides, I was hoping we could have a very public break up and more girls would flock to me,” he said with a smile. You were unamused by his mocking comment. You closed your book and stormed off. “Y/N, wait I was just joking.”

“Ha ha.” 

He lightly grabbed your wrist and kept you from moving further, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Do you really want to miss out on this though? I know you’ve been upset about this whole situation but maybe this will help you take your mind off of things.”

“I don’t know, Fred. I really don’t want to be gossiped about any more. I’m not sure it would be a great look to show up to the ball with my ex’s twin brother.”

“Don’t worry so much about what other people think of you. Look, I know we’ve had some issues the past few months, but I can’t let you stay here by yourself and miss out on this opportunity.”

“I don’t have a dress,” you used, as the only excuse you could really think of.

“I’ll take care of it. Just promise me you’ll go?”

 You thought for a moment, unsure of what to say. It was the first time you felt like someone cared about you in a while. 

“…Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” he held out his arm to you. “Let’s go get you a dress.”

You made your way down the empty halls, seeing as everyone was already at the ball. You had a sneaking suspicion as to where you were going. Fred stopped in front of the Room of Requirement and opened the door, allowing you to enter first. When you stepped inside the room was filled with racks of formal dresses of all style and color. 

“Wow, I never thought to use this place as my own personal closet. There must be hundreds of dresses here.”

“I figured you’d be able to find something here,” he took a seat on a plush ottoman located near a three way mirror.

“Are you going to sit there or are you going to help me sift through these dresses?” He looked up cluelessly at you before finally making his way toward a rack. 

“What sort of dress are we looking for here?” he asked, slowly looking through the gowns. You didn’t really have anything in mind, you just figured you would know it when you saw it. 

“I don’t really know, just something I would look good in I guess.”

“Y/N, you would look good in all of these.”

“No need to flatter me Fred, I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m serious. You always look great in whatever you wear.”

“I wish I felt that way about myself nowadays,” you mumbled.

“You just need to regain your confidence. I think that’s what sets you apart from other people. You are so comfortable in your skin and so sure of who you are. It’s incredibly attractive.”

“Easy tiger. Just because we’re going to the Yule Ball together does not mean we’re going to start dating.”

“That’s not what I’m getting at here. I’m just a friend trying to help out another friend,” he said. This statement seemed a little off but after looking in Fred’s eyes you could tell he was being genuine. Instead of responding you nodded your head and continued skimming through dresses.

“So can I ask what happened between you and George? It all seemed kind of sudden.”

“You mean he hasn’t told you?” you asked.

Fred shook his head, “He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh,” you said. That surprised you. 

“Well, it all started when Roger dumped me. I was upset and I didn’t want to lose him. I had detention with George and he sort of planted this idea that I needed to make Roger jealous. We made a plan to act like we were an item so that Roger would want me back and George would seem like boyfriend material. But we made a rule that either one of us could break off the fake fling whenever for whatever reason,” you paused, picking up a dress that you thought maybe could work, but you put it back realizing it wasn’t right. “George was absolutely perfect. He made our story seem realistic and he did all these cute things for me. I forgot that we weren’t even a real couple. It got to the point where I didn’t even want Roger back, but I didn’t want to stop hanging out with George.”

“What happened then?”

“The night after the first task, when there was that party in the common room, I…ugh…I accidentally walked in on George and Angelina making out in the stairwell. And it hurt. I think it would’ve been easier if he just told me, instead of me walking in on them. The next morning I kept things simple with him and cut it off quickly. He was fighting it and I sort of snapped and said some things I shouldn’t have. And he hasn’t talked to me since.” It was just then you noticed a single tear was dripping down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly, hoping Fred didn’t see your vulnerability, but he did.

He stopped searching through the rack and looked at you with clarity in his eyes. It was like everything finally made sense to him. Before he could speak, you interjected.

“I understand if you’re upset, but please don’t be upset with George. It was my idea not to tell you. I wanted your reaction to everything to be genuine. I felt like that was going to sell our story better. And I’m sorry if I created tension between you and George. That was never my intention. I never wanted to hurt him. I think...I think I love him.”

“Y/N, you’ve got this situation all wrong,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

Fred let out a small chortle, “That wasn’t George in the stairwell with Angelina, it was me.”

You furrowed your brows, “No, it had to have been George. She made a comment about easing the tension between you. That had to have been about me.”

He shook his head again, “I’d been feeling a bit tense acting as the third wheel all the time. Angelina was saying that with us together, I wouldn’t have to tag along with the two of you.”

Your jaw dropped, “Oh my god…”

“George never had a thing for Angelina, it’s always been you darling.”

You let out a long sigh and hung your head, “Oh I really fucked up.” 

“Look, when you and George first started dating, I had some hesitations. For good reason it seems. But I’ve never seen George happier than when he was with you. And you seemed pretty happy with him. If you really love him, which I suspect you do, you need to tell him. I wouldn’t be up here with you now if I didn’t care about you and my brother. It’s your move now”

“When did you become so insightful?”

“Please, I’ve always been this way. Now hurry up, let’s get you to the ball”

“I just need to find a dress…”

“Oh I have the perfect dress already. I just needed you to fill me in on everything.”

“What? So we’ve been wasting time looking through all these dresses for nothing.”

“Hey, relax. I had good intentions. Now go put this on.” He handed you a white high neck halter dress. The collar featured strands of thin gold chains that fell right on your collarbone. The dress was open back and had a slit up the front that reached just above your knee. It was simple, but stunning. You slipped behind a curtain to try it on and the dress fit you perfectly. You emerged from the makeshift dressing room and Fred was waiting there with a pair of peep toe gold heels. 

“So, does it look okay?”

“See for yourself,” he turned you towards the full length mirror. You  let out a sly smile when you saw your reflection. 

“You look incredible,” Fred said. He placed the heels on the ground and helped you to step into them. You pinned back some of your hair and found a pair of dangly gold earrings to put in. Once you quickly put on some basic makeup, you were ready to go. Your stomach was turning at the potential of seeing George but you had to face your nerves. You knew Fred was right and that you had to tell George how you felt, or else you would always wonder what if.

“You ready to go?”

“I guess so…” you muttered. Fred put a friendly arm around you and steered you out of the room.

[rafecameron]

super spies - r.c

Summary: In which reader follows her boyfriend to try and catch him cheating and Rafe tags along

Word count: 2.3K

A/N: This kinda sucks but im posting it anyways

*GIF is mine*

You were almost one hundred percent sure your boyfriend was cheating on you. You thought it, your friends thought it, but you needed some hard evidence before you broke up with his sorry ass. You didn’t want to throw a two year relationship down the drain over a misunderstanding, though the niggling in your stomach should be proof enough that you were right.

You text him asking him his plans for the day and he replies saying he’s staying home as he’s not feeling well. You already know this is a lie as you’re sat in your car staring at his car from across the road, you were parked close to the town centre. You supposed he really could be ill and he had stopped off to get some medicine, but you highly doubted it.

Getting out of your car you stuff your phone into your bag and head towards the shops, not sure where you would find him but determined to do so. You checked multiple shops, no sign of him in any of them. You sigh audibly to yourself, almost ready to give up before you catch a glimpse of him from across the road. You quickly duck into an alley way, poking your head round to watch where he was going, you saw him disappear into the cafe across the street.

Checking the coast was clear you bolt across the street, sneaking up to the cafe and poking your head round the corner of it to peek through the window, it’s busy inside but you can see him at the counter ordering. He didn’t look very ill to you. You glare through the window at him, watching him smile and chat to the girls behind the counter as he waits for his order, you could feel yourself getting more annoyed by the second. 

You were so engrossed on watching your boyfriends actions that you didn’t notice someone coming up behind you, their head practically touching yours before the finally spoke into your ear, “What are you doing?”

You sucked in a breath of air out of shock and spun round, glaring at the amused person behind you, “What the hell is your problem?” You yell at him, hand over your pounding heart, you quickly look back into the cafe hoping that your yelling hadn’t given away your position. Luckily your boyfriend didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Why are you sneaking around? You’re acting really weird.” Rafe laughs, hands in his shorts pockets as he waits for an answer.

You sigh running a hand through your hair, you quickly grab his arm and pull him out of view of the cafe window, “I’m watching my boyfriend.” You admit, not really sure why you were telling him the truth. Sure, you’d known him your whole life, he was your best friends brother after all, but that didn’t mean you should tell him about your cheating ass of a boyfriend.

Rafe raises an eyebrow at your confession, “That’s a bit stalkerish, don’t you think?” He asks, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“I guess,” You shrug, “But I need to see where he’s going.”

“Why?” Rafe asks, but you don’t have time to answer him as the cafe door swings open and your boyfriend appears, walking in the opposite direction with two coffee cups in his hands.

“Be quiet.” You warn the boy beside you as you head off in the direction your boyfriend was going, you could feel Rafe following behind, you hadn’t actually expected him to tag along.

“What are we? Super spies now?” Rafe laughs behind you but you just slap at his arm and shush him in annoyance.

You follow him into a small park on the outskirts of the town, keeping close to the tree line in hopes that he wouldn’t notice you and Rafe tailing him. You quickly put a hand out to stop Rafe walking as your boyfriend comes to a stop next to a bench, handing one of the drinks to a pretty blonde girl who was sat there. She stands up as he speaks to her pulling him into a hug. His free hand goes to her waist and he leans down and kisses her quick on the lips. 

Your jaw clenches in anger, gripping onto the strap of your bag harshly as you shoot daggers at the pair by the bench, “I knew it.” You said through clenched teeth.

“What a fucking asshole,” Rafe fumes from behind you, “You want me to go beat the shit out of him? Cause I will.”

You glare at them for a moment longer before turning to Rafe, eyes wet mostly from anger and frustration than from hurt, you shake your head. “He really isn’t worth it.” You reply, wiping a tear off of your cheek as you begin to head out of the park.

“You’re not even gonna confront him?” Rafe asks running up behind you, his hand rests lightly on your shoulder and you don’t have the energy to shrug it off.

“No, I’m not. Let him be happy with her, I’m over it.” You huff out, the tears on your face telling a completely different story.

“You don’t look over it.” Rafe comments, falling into step beside you.

“And what would you know about it?” You snap at him, finally pushing his hand off your shoulder.

“I know that there’s a pretty girl in tears beside me because of some absolute tool.” He states, putting his hand back on your shoulder but this time stopping you from walking, “You were right when you said he’s not worth it. He was never good enough for you.”

You scoff and shrug his hand off again, “You don’t have to be nice to me, Rafe. You don’t even know me, you’re talking shit.”

“I don’t know you?” Rafe raises his eyebrows at your statement, “I’ve known you my whole life, Y/N. I know that you spend Saturdays in Sarah’s room eating ice cream and watching shitty girls movies. I know that you broke your arm when you were seven falling off the swing in your garden. I know that when you’re sad and hurt you get angry like you are now. I also know that you’re one of the nicest people on this stupid island and you don’t deserve that asshole hurting you like this.”

You blink up at him, fresh tears falling from your reddening eyes, shocked that he paid any attention to you at all, “Rafe, I-“

“You don’t have to say anything. I get it, I’m your friends asshole older brother and you hate me, but I don’t want to see you like this.” Rafe sighs out.

You take a second to process his words before replying, “I don’t hate you, Rafe. I could never hate you.”

“Yeah? Well then why don't you let me try to cheer you up?” He suggests, smiling now which only served to pull a smile onto your own lips.

“Okay.” You nod, wiping your face free of the last of your tears and following Rafe out of the park which was now your least favourite place on the island.

“So what are we doing?” You ask him after walking in silence the whole way back to the town centre.

“I’m cheering you up.” Rafe states again, “Wait here.” Rafe pulls you to a halt and sits you down on a bus stop bench before disappearing.

You knew you should probably call Sarah and tell her exactly what’s happened, let her come and pick you up and comfort you, but for some reason you were a little excited to be spending the day with Rafe. It was probably best you didn’t tell Sarah about that part. Before long Rafe returned, handing you a cone of ice cream which caused your face to light up.

You took it from him, licking at the cold scoop on top, “This is my favourite flavour.” You state as you begin walking beside him.

“I know.” Rafe states matter of factly.

You eat your ice creams in silence as Rafe leads you to his truck, by the time you climbed into the passenger seat you had finished eating and were curious as to what you were doing next.

“So, what are we doing?” You ask, buckling yourself in and watching Rafe excitedly.

Rafe shrugs, “There’s a couple things we can do. Or I could show you somewhere, if you want?”

You furrow your brows slightly, “Show me somewhere?” You asks and Rafe just nods his head in reply, “Okay, show me.” You smile and nod.

You were expecting the drive to feel awkward, you’d never really been alone with Rafe for more than a few minutes and you were worried you wouldn’t have anything to talk about, but you were worrying for no reason. The Rafe with you today was a side of Rafe that you didn’t see very often. He was friendly and open and extremely funny. He had you in stitches in the passenger seat, making comments about the stupidest things just to hear you laughing.

You were almost upset when the truck came to a stop and it was time to get out, “I could drive round with you all day.” You admit, a slight blush on your cheeks at you confession.

“Well we can do that next then.” Rafe smiles as he climbs out of his truck.

The devastation from early this morning was completely gone from your mind as you followed Rafe, the area he had brought you to looked a little run down, somewhere between figure eight and the cut, not somewhere you expected Rafe Cameron would hang out. 

He reaches out and grabs your hand, “Watch where you’re stepping.” He warns you as he leads you off the path and into a wooded area, still gripping tightly onto your hand.

“Is this where you murder me and bury my body?” You ask playfully, eyes on the ground as you follow his steps so as not to fall over the many branches scattered across the floor.

“Am I that easy to read?” Rafe asks with a chuckle.

When Rafe’s feet stop walking in front of you you look up, peeking round from behind him, “Is this-wow.” You cut yourself off, fully stepping out from behind him, “This place is beautiful.” You comment, stepping in front of him to get a better look.

He’d brought you to the tiniest cove you had ever seen, the sand stretching no more than fifteen feet either way, rocks lining the edge of the sand and trees bunching together behind you. The ocean looked bluer her, like that pale blue water you imagine in exotic places and it lapped gently at the sand.

“How did you find this place?” You asked, finally turning away from the view to look at the boy behind you.

Rafe shrugs, “Needed to get away one day, somehow found this place. I come here whenever I need to be alone.” He admits.

“Thank you, for bringing me.” You smile, “I promise I wont keep turning up and ruining your peace.” You laugh gently.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Rafe admits, he moves to sit down in the sand and you follow suit, sitting beside him and looking out across the water.

“It’s so peaceful here, I can see why you come.” You mumble out, fingers burying themselves in the sand.

You spent the whole day in that cove with Rafe, laughing, messing around, having heart to hearts. You never imagined Rafe would have such a soft side to him, you were sure he would never want anyone else to find out.

“Are you cold?” Rafe asks, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side, you smile up at him appreciatively before looking back out across the ocean at the sun set, pink and orange glowing across the glittering water.

“Would you call me crazy if I said considering I caught my boyfriend cheating on me this morning I’ve had the best day ever?” You laugh softly at how stupid that sounded.

Rafe shrugged lightly, “I wouldn’t call you crazy. I’d just say you’ve learnt he was an ass who isn’t worth shit and moved on pretty quickly, it’s admirable.”

You look over at the boy sat next to you, “You think I’m admirable?” You ask.

Rafe’s eyes meet yours, the sunset casting an orange glow across his skin, “I think you’re incredibly strong, I always have.” Rafe admits.

You smile softly and don’t stop yourself when you feel yourself leaning forward, you rest a hand against his chest as your lips meet his. The kiss was soft and gently and didn’t last nearly as long as you would have liked it.

“I’m sorry-“ You start.

“Don’t me.” Rafe cuts you off, his hand coming up to the side of your face and pulling your lips against his again, this time with kiss was longer, his lips pressed against yours with more pressure. Before you knew it you were laid back against the sand, Rafe’s body hovering over yours as you got lost in the feeling of your lips together.

That’s how you spent the rest of the night, laying in the sand, pressing kisses against each others lips, noses, foreheads, cheeks. Lost in the feeling of each other and not caring about anything else, not needing anything more.

From that day onwards that became your spot. It’s where you held most of your dates, having picnics and drinks by the sea, it’s the first place you slept with Rafe and the first place you shared I love you’s and you couldn’t be more thankful to your ex for giving you the opportunity to let Rafe into your heart.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N:  I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW:  mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Mmmm'kay, I'm loving this arranged marriage au, the possibilities are endless. But... imagine if once they got married and they went to their shared home for the first time and they found only one bed? The tension. And then they're both like, "I don't wear a shirt to bed..." 😂

Yeah anon, it really grew on me too. It was going to be angstier as I was writing, and then I realized, wait, this has so much potential, so I softened it up a bit.

So “there was only one bed” in the “arranged marriage au”, huh, got it.

Here’s the first part

cw and tags: angst, trust issues, double entendre noises, naked cuddling, pining, sleep deprived Runaan has his own opinions, light bdsm but for angst reasons, biting, falling asleep on someone

____________________________

Runaan stalked in through the tree house door ahead of Ethari, dropping his flower crown carelessly atop a side table. Ethari slowed to catch it from sliding to the floor, hanging them both on pretty silver hooks set into the wall. The hooks were meant to hold the flower crowns as they dried and became a nostalgic reminder of Moonshadows’ vowing night, a permanent decoration to be seen by all who entered the home. Every vowed household had one.

Ethari stilled as Runaan’s footsteps retreated up the curved staircase and faded from earshot. He ran a soft fingertip along the edge of a lunabloom petal and felt a heaviness settle on his shoulders.

“My vowing night,” he murmured, so softly that only the flowers could hear him. “I imagined it very differently when I was a wee lad. With more kissing, for sure. I barely got any--”

A soft cough outside the door perked his ears with alarm. He whipped the door back open and stared out at a sheepish Lain.

“Hey, bro.” The rangy assassin straightened up from a crouch near the door’s crack and slouched easily against the tree’s thick bark. “How’s things? Need anything before you two tuck in for the night?”

Tucking in doesn’t seem to be on Runaan’s to-do list, I’m afraid. But Lain’s smirk told Ethari that he might be missing something. “Lain, what are you doing?”

“Vowing vigil, bro. Assassin thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

Ethari’s feet hurt from hours of dancing beneath the full moon’s light, and he was starving and exhausted. But for the sake of his brand new husband, he pasted on a smile and asked curiously, “Maybe you could explain it to me? ...Bro?”

Lain blinked, and then a broad grin sidled across his face and decided that it liked it there. “Sure, bro. Assassins have each others’ backs, yeah? No matter what. When one of us falters from injury or falls ill, the others gather around to keep them safe. When one of us lets his guard down, we gather, too, and hold ours high.”

Ethari squinted in puzzlement, not following Lain’s secret assassin lingo.

Lain flicked his gaze up toward the various branches overhead, belonging to half a dozen different trees. “Runaan’s our leader now. But he’s gonna let his guard down tonight, for you. And we’ll hold vigil to defend him while he does it. No matter how many times he does it,” Lain added, with a giant, cheesy wink.

Despite Lain’s suggestive joke, Ethari’s cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment and his tummy miserably curled in on itself. He recalled Runaan’s clipped words on the day they’d finalized their betrothal: “Don’t you dare kiss me again. You’re lucky I didn’t stab you.” Runaan wouldn’t be letting his guard down, in any respect, today. Or possibly ever.

“Thank you for your courtesy,” the woeful craftsman managed, before turning away and closing the door in Lain’s face.

His feet found the stairs, and he trudged upward with a heavy heart, just wanting to find a place to crash and sleep. High narrow ceilings that slotted up through organic gaps in the tree gathered darkness overhead, winking with mushroom light and the odd moonfly. Delicately carved walls and living lattice windows showed him various rooms along the side of the stairwell that wound upward around the heart of the tree itself.

This place is beautiful... I’ll have to explore later, after I catch some sleep. Where is the bedroom in here, anyway? Ah, here-

He came to an abrupt stop outside a graceful wooden arch twined with soft glowing vines and nearly bumped right into Runaan, who was swiftly exiting the bedroom with an armful of blankets--as well as cheeks the color of moonberries. Their eyes met--Ethari’s seeking, Runaan’s vulnerable, darting away. Ethari glanced over Runaan’s shoulder, seeking the source of his seeming distress, but saw only a spacious, neat, empty room behind him.

“Where are you going?” he asked Runaan.

Runaan studied the blankets he held, then raised a wry gaze to Ethari’s face. “There is only one bed here. I will sleep elsewhere.” He moved to slip past Ethari into the hallway.

Ethari’s hands clutched at Runaan’s shoulders. “No, you can’t do that.”

Runaan’s gaze was cold. “Take your hands off me.”

Ethari jerked his hands back as if they’d been burned. “Sorry. I only meant that... the assassins are watching the tree house tonight, and they’d know that you... that we didn’t... uhh...”

Runaan’s eyes widened and his gaze sliced toward the nearest outer wall, looking vulnerable, hunted even. Ethari’s heart clenched at the sight. Had the assassins’ supposed vigil slipped his mind? Was it just a prank Lain was pulling?

“That’s... really a thing, then?” he asked.

The quirked frown that snapped into place on Runaan’s face seemed to indicate that it was.

“It seems we’re trapped in here until moonrise,” Runaan grated.

Wow, that makes me feel great. Thanks for that. Ethari let his shoulders slump as Runaan spun and retreated deeper into the bedroom.

The assassin plopped his blankets on the foot of the broad bed. Ethari approached and stood beside him at a safe distance, studying it analytically. Runaan shot him a side glance and opened his mouth sharply, but Ethari spoke first. “No one needs to sleep on the floor. Look at this bed. It’s enormous. Five elves could sleep here and not even touch.”

“You exaggerate. I only see room for three.”

“Oh, should I go invite Lain to sleep between us, then?” Ethari teased, before he really grasped the words he just said.

Runaan rounded on him. “Is this funny to you? Have you no respect for--?” The assassin managed to snap his mouth shut before he said anything further, and he huffed a furious snort.

Ethari backed away, his guts swirling with guilt. He’d fooled the village council into choosing him as Runaan’s marital ally, hiding his feelings from them, and from Runaan too. And then he’d tried to steal his first kiss, blurted the truth, and confessed what felt like an innocent, wholesome, clever chain of events. Except now Runaan didn’t trust him. Their union had meant to strengthen Moonshadow relations, but Ethari had brought the seed of deceit into its very heart.

He looked down at his boots, silent, waiting. This was no time to try to earn back Runaan’s trust. That would be a long and painful process as it was. Better to start when his husband wasn’t actively yelling at him.

Maybe tomorrow, after a good night’s rest. If we can manage to figure out how and where to find it.

When he peeked up at Runaan through his lashes, the assassin was staring at him with wide intense eyes. Ethari raised his brows. Runaan kept staring. Not fondly, either. Ethari’s shoulders slumped, and his gaze found the smooth wooden floor. The grain was beautiful, he noted, full of deep blue-silver swirls.

Runaan tucked his hands behind his back, cleared his throat, and took a deep breath. “I apologize. This is no way to begin our... arrangement. If we must share a bed, then I suggest we get to it. We’ve had a long day of... of getting married. You must be as tired as I am.”

Ethari offered him a tired half-smile. “Do your feet hurt too?” he asked softly.

Runaan’s brows evened out. “I’m on my feet all day. Hours of dancing are no hardship.”

Ethari let his eyes slide toward the outer wall of the tree house, beyond which he knew several assassins were pretending not to eavesdrop. “That’s a real shame, Runaan.”

Runaan’s eyes zeroed in on him with intense focus. “Explain.”

-*-*-

“Ah, right there, push harder,” Runaan moaned, writhing lightly on his stomach atop the soft bed. His long hair sprawled, tousled and tangled, across his bare back.

“You sure you can take it?” Ethari’s question breathed through closed teeth as he bent to his task, hands working over the assassin beneath him, lending his body weight to the sweet, insistent pressure he offered.

“I’m going to be sore when I wake, no matter what,” Runaan said breathlessly against the pillow he clutched. “Your hands are v-very skilled--aah-- Please, please, continue... hnngh... aahhh...”

Ethari chuckled softly at the sweet, desperate noises Runaan was making. The lanky assassin looked delicious all stretched out before him, all long legs and tousled hair and breathy gasps. He dared to hope that, one day, Runaan might make them for another reason besides getting an intense calf massage to work out the knots from too much dancing.

Runaan’s other foot kicked helplessly atop the blanket as Ethari pressed a knuckle into a new knot high on Runaan’s calf. “Hhhgh, moon and shadow,” he cursed.

Ethari’s hands paused, holding Runaan’s muscled calf protectively. “Too hard?”

“Mm’mm. Keep going. It’s good for me.”

“I’ll slow down,” Ethari offered. “I don’t want to break you on our first night.” He couldn’t help but say that last line with a sassy grin.

Runaan’s head popped up from his pillow, and he shot Ethari a hot glare over his shoulder. “You couldn’t possibly--”

Ethari drove his knuckle deep into the knotted muscle.

“AAH-ha-haagh, moondimmit, fuck!” Runaan swore. “Light and shade of the sacred cycle, have mercy on my s-soul...” he squeaked.

“Ooh,” Ethari cooed, “I like it when you plead.”

Runaan’s gaze could’ve stripped the bark off the entire house in a single slice.

A sudden sliding scuff on the branch outside the shuttered window drew their attention. It was swiftly followed by a quiet yelp as someone outside lost their footing.

Ethari paused his hard kneading and flicked his eyebrows with another sassy smirk. “Well, that’s three assassins we’ve overwhelmed so far. How many more do you think will want to listen in?”

Runaan let his forehead plop into the pillow as he caught his breath. “It’s been an hour. We’ve made our point. And I’m not sure I can walk at the moment.”

“You want me to carry you somewhere?” Ethari offered softly. He rested a light hand against the back of Runaan’s knee.

“No, I just want to sleep with you now.”

Ethari blinked, unsure he’d heard right. “S-Sorry?”

“We’ve established that I can’t sleep anywhere else, Ethari. So I have to sleep with you. All I meant.” Runaan groaned and rolled into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. One hand reached for Ethari’s scarf. “You don’t plan to sleep in that, do you?”

“Uhh. Nope.” Ethari tugged his scarf free. “I don’t sleep in much, actually... I get hot... uh...” Like right now. It’s really hot in here all of a sudden!

“Hm. That’s fine. I don’t sleep in anything at all.” Runaan stood up and shucked off his trousers with zero ado whatsoever.

“Hrkk!” Ethari choked against a fist. “Are-Are you s-sure you...” Moon help me, I’m just infinitely gay, infinitely, did he just, did he-- Help....

Runaan turned around and looked down at him, hands on his narrow hips. Ethari desperately locked his eyes onto his new husband’s turquoise ones, feeling his cheeks burn.

“I’ve got about five minutes of consciousness left before I crash,” Runaan said in a cool tone. “And I’m not falling asleep around someone I don’t trust, unless I can control the risks he poses.”

Ethari gulped. “Wh-What does that mean? Are you going to tie me up or something?”

Runaan raised a speculative eyebrow.

-*-*-

“Not too tight?” Runaan murmured, kneeling at Ethari’s side as the craftsman lay on his back, wearing nothing more than a soft pair of sleep shorts--which was more than Runaan was wearing. His fingers lightly adjusted the soft bindings around Ethari’s wrists.

“This really isn’t necessary, I promise,” Ethari began. “I’ve already agreed to--”

“I know what you’ve said. I also know the depth of your capability for deceitfulness. If you’d been truthful, we wouldn’t need restraints.”

We. How “we” does he mean that? Ethari wondered.

“Now roll onto your side,” Runaan ordered. “I’m not turning my back on you again, and I’m keeping you right where I can find you.”

With his eyes wide and dark, Ethari rolled over and felt Runaan tuck his bare body behind him, nestling close. Ethari’s breathing stuttered as Runaan hooked one leg atop the craftsman’s hip, pinning him in place. He clutched his softly tied hands to his chest to reassure himself that he was still breathing. This was torture of the worst kind! To be in love with such a beautiful elf, to be allowed to marry him, to share a bed, to watch him strip down and snuggle tightly--and to have it all mean something entirely different than what Ethari had begged the universe for--it was the sweetest dagger in his heart. He knew he’d never recover from its wound, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

Runaan’s hand snaked between Ethari’s arm and his ribs and clasped his wrists lightly, tucking one seeking finger under the bindings. The touch was so intimate and gentle, as if Runaan were admitting that he too were bound the same way as Ethari was, that it brought a shaky tear to the corner of Ethari’s eye.

His struggles to smooth out his breathing did not go unnoticed, however, since the assassin was pressed skin to skin against his back. Runaan’s fingers gently rubbed along Ethari’s wrists, soothing the cord’s rub.

“Sometimes I don’t trust myself, either.” Runaan’s voice was slurred with sleep. His five minutes had come and gone, perhaps a couple of minutes ago.

“I swear to you, Runaan,” Ethari said, breathing his words like a prayer, “I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted this.” He wriggled his bound wrists against Runaan’s grip.

Runaan squeezed the bindings possessively. “Maybe I did.”

Ethari gasped slowly at Runaan’s sleepy confession. Then he gasped harder as Runaan’s mouth closed over the skin at the base of his neck. Runaan instinctively clasped him still with all his limbs, holding Ethari in his control with a soft hum that grew gentle teeth against his skin. Ethari froze, entirely breathless, trembling with a heady concoction of delight, fear, and arousal. “R-Runaan?”

Runaan’s mouth nibbled gently, sleepily. “Mmmm.”

“Runaan, are you... awake?”

The assassin’s teeth grazed his skin and claimed his ear, biting gently, sucking on its tip. “No. And don’t you dare tell me about this in the morning.”

A waterfall of helpless, confused, ecstatic noises tumbled from Ethari’s mouth. Runaan’s hands began roaming him, and his teeth dragged and nipped in their wake, drawing gasps and curses from Ethari’s lips, making him writhe against his husband. Runaan’s nibbling became insistent, and he crawled across Ethari, pushing him onto his back, pinning his bound hands over his head even as his mouth worked along the lower curve of Ethari’s left pec.

Ethari bucked helplessly and groaned until his voice shredded into a needy whine. “Runaan, please... aah...”

Runaan nipped his way across Ethari’s heart and along the side of his neck, drawing ever louder sounds of pleasure from Ethari’s lips. He eased down flush atop him, tucking his long slender legs outside Ethari’s sturdy ones. Rampant heat flared between them. But while Ethari was getting worked up, Runaan was relaxing bonelessly, his breathing slowing.

He pressed his mouth to Ethari’s ear, nipping gently at its lower edge. “Hold me, Ethari. I want to trust you so much.” And he let go of Ethari’s bound wrists and nestled his head against his husband’s muscled shoulder.

Ethari tensed, as desperately confused as he was aroused, but he lowered his arms to hold Runaan close, craving the smell of his hair, the weight of his body, the warmth of his breath. “I... I have you, Runaan...”

“Mmmm.” The assassin’s breathing slowed and evened out as he passed fully into slumber, sprawled without a stitch atop the elf he claimed not to trust.

Ethari felt his body throb hot against Runaan’s lax weight. With a tiny whimper, he let his head fall back against the pillow. No...This really is torture of the worst kind! He flexed his wrists against Runaan’s bindings as they rested against the small of the assassin’s back. How am I supposed to survive this kind of cruelty?

He bemoaned his indecently unfair fate for several minutes before exhaustion claimed him, too. His last waking act was to kiss Runaan’s temple and murmur, “Sleep well... husband.”

At Ethari’s soft words, Runaan let out a deeply contented sigh and snuggled closer.

Alone in the dark, and yet not quite as alone as he had been, Ethari thought he might cry, for every single reason at once.

[whump-it]

The Bad Thing:  Rory’s Tape Gag

Ok.  Here it is!  The Bad Thing is happeneing and Rory is starting to get whumped!  CW here for victim blaming, self blame, self hatred, whumper playing whumpees off against one another, threatening to whump a woman and a tape gag of course!

Tag time!

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @crowned-avery @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure @girlwithacoolcat @tears-and-lilies @inpainandsuffering @whumppsychology

He was laughing.  It was muted by a hand to his mouth.  Knuckles against his teeth.  But he was laughing.  She didn't dare look at him.  Didn't dare make eye contact for fear that somewhere through the terror and dread, that somewhere in the horror of her emotions, the hated of him might be showing on her face.  Taking that kind of liberty would only lead to trouble. 

Beyond the basement door and blissfully, briefly unaware of the ridicule and hurt coming their way, Rory and Callum carried on talking.

***

"I miss Haz,"  Callum muttered, a slight slur to the words.  A slip at the edge.  He had shuffled over to Rory with an ease born of history despite the fact that his hands were bound behind his back.

"I know," Rory whispered.  He nearly always whispered.  Callum spoke out loud with an uninhibited volume that made Rory cringe away and want to yell at him to shut up.   To be quiet.  To tell him that their situation was precarious enough without him talking at a volume that might attract unwanted attention. 

"The last time I was in a basement I had him," Callum said, matter-of-fact.

"Alyaa had to take him back to her apartment," Rory winced as Callum tipped his head to rest his right temple against Rory's shoulder, which was still bruised from his most recent beating.  "We had to let him go so we wouldn't get hurt."

"Wouldn't get hurt," Callum muttered back, breathing in then exhaling a shaking sigh.  "I miss him.  He's soft."

"I wish I could bring him to you," Rory murmured the words with a tip of his head.  A tilt of his lips into Callum's hair right above where his brain was fighting against him.  "Cal.  We'll get back to him.  You're going to have him again I promise you.  I promise.  I know how important he is to you but if you can just hold on just... just..."  Rory breathed in shaky and unsteady and closed his eyes against the tears that always seemed to be there.  Always just on the edge of falling.  He pushed his face into Callum's curls and let them tickle at his skin.  Let them sweep across his forehead and cheek where he would feel their phantom touch long after they'd moved apart.  His bound hands unable to move the sensation. 

Next to him, Callum shifted.  He moved and tipped his head and carried on until their foreheads met. 

"Cal," Rory said, louder than he meant to, the volume unmodulated by the constriction of his throat against the fall of his tears.  "Cal I love you.  Haz is waiting for you.  He's safe.  He's safe and he's waiting for you." 

***

Ethan snorted and bent forward then breathed in and composed himself.

"Oh that's just precious," he said, his words sneered out over a laugh.  "They're going on about that stupid teddy aren't they?"  He looked at Alyaa, her head bowed and eyes fixed on the ground.  Her hair falling down past her cheek.  "I asked you a question."  The laughter had gone.  Dried up.  It hadn't been funny to begin with.

"Yes," she said quietly.  So very quietly.  "Haz is... Callum's... he's not well."

Ethan looked at her.  Looked and looked until she began to bend under the weight of his stare.  She jumped and flinched when he raised his hand, spinning a roll of heavy duty tape around his index finger.

"Hmm,"  Ethan spun the roll around and around.

"He's not..." Alyaa stopped speaking as soon as she had started.  Her throat cut off her words without her permission, the muscles tightening around the threat of tears.  Callum was ill and Rory was scared and Haz was too far away.

And Ethan had a roll of tape.

She flinched again at the sound of the bolt on the door slamming back, looking up just in time to catch the swift movement as Ethan reached out and gripped at her forearm hard enough to bruise. 

"Time to pay your favourite pair a little visit," Ethan said, pulling her arm to drag her closer.  "Well come on then.  Anyone would think you didn't want to see them."  Ethan smiled at her, cruel and cold, the twist of his lips utterly unmatched by the hatred in his eyes.

Ethan pulled her through the door and into the basement, and she was utterly unable to stop herself from looking straight at Rory.  Straight at Callum.  Glancing back and for between their faces until the weight of her guilt for not keeping them safe forced her shoulders to hunch.  Her gaze to lower. 

Callum looked shattered.  Completely and entirely worn out.  Yet despite that, when he saw her, when he saw Ethan, he had mouthed the word "master".  He had bowed his head.  Across his face, she saw the flash of emotions and memories that had taken only seconds but that she had enough knowledge of to recognise.  He wanted atonement.  He wanted perfection.  He was too ill to know if he was ashamed or not anymore.

Rory looked furious.  And scared.  And he looked at her and Ethan equally before tipping his head back down to touch temples with Callum.  The utter horror that he was protecting Callum from her felt like a shard of ice settling through her core.

"Sounds like someone's missing his little teddy bear," Ethan said, smiling that smile again.  The one that never reached his eyes.  Alyaa could hear Rory's breathing pick up, his teeth clenched as he breathed heavily and just a little too fast through his nose.  She could see his jaw working and she had no idea whether she wanted him to speak or to stay silent.  Each option had the potential to harm all of them.  It was just a question of which of them would pay the highest price.

"Wow," Ethan said, cold sarcasm threading through the word.   "You look really cross.   Really cross."   He drew the words out, stretching them out on a rack of scorn and humiliation, deliberately designed to make Rory more and more furious.

Alyaa could see Rory's breathing speed up in the rise and fall of his chest.  In the flare of his nostrils.  Her mind overlapped on itself on two words.  Speak.  Hush. 

"Damn right I'm cross," Rory said.  Alyaa closed her eyes.  “Where do you get off thinking that any of what you’re doing here is ok?  What the fuck is the matter with you, you sick freak!?  Callum is not well.  He should’ve been in the hospital days ago.  He needs an operation.  You’re hurting him.  You’re going to hurt him.”

"I'm not going to hurt him," Ethan said with a cruel laugh.  "Have you seen him!?  I mean come on.  Look at him.  Why would I hurt that?"  Rory glared back.  "Oh I'm sorry.  Did I speak in a foreign language?  Are you too stupid to understand?"  Alyaa saw Callum's flinch at the word stupid.  He mouthed it silently, eyes downcast.

"I said "look at him"."

"I'm looking," Rory said slowly and quietly.  "At you.  And I don't like what I'm seeing."

Alyaa dared to open her eyes but kept her head down.  Her shoulders up.  She jumped when Ethan ripped a long strip of tape off the roll, biting it off with his teeth and holding it up in front of her face while he pointed at Rory with his free hand.

“That one needs to stop talking don’t you think?”

She held her breath.  The room seemed to buzz with the oppressive silence that followed the statement and the tearing of tape.  She couldn’t move.  She couldn’t make herself touch the tape.  She braved a quick look at Rory beyond the tape dangling in front of her and he looked terrified.  He didn’t have his hands to use, tied up behind him.  He was trapped in a basement and he was about to have his voice taken from him.  He looked like he was fighting to stay upright, fighting against his body that wanted to curl up, and fighting against crying. 

“Well my sweet little nightbird,” Ethan said.  “You have a choice.  Either you take this piece of tape and shut him up,” he jerked the piece of tape a couple of times in front of her. “Or I can shut you up.  You choose.”

“Me,” Alyaa said, quickly.  The need to protect pushed forward in her mind.  Rory and Callum should bein the hospital right now while Callum recovered from surgery.  They shouldn’t be tied up in a basement and she was all too aware that if they had stayed away from her then this would never have happened.  She should have kept them at arms length instead of pulling them down to be damaged along with her. “You...if you want...want...to shut someone up then shut me...shut me up Ethan.”

On the floor in front of her, a sob broke free from Rory, quickly followed by Callum looking over at him, horrified and shushing him in the presence of the person that he believed to be his Master.

“Don’t even, for one moment, think that you can tell me what I want,” Ethan spat the words at her, and she cowered under their weight, shaking.  Trembling.  “Tape his mouth and then, as you’re so keen, I’ll shut you up too.”

“No!  Please Ethan, please.”  Alyaa forced the words out even as they shook with the forced of her body’s shaking.  “Please just me...just...just me.  They didn’t...they...they’ll be quiet,  I promise.  Please Ethan.  Please!”

“Hmm...you see, as much as I enjoy listening to all of this?  It’s boring me now.  Taope his mouth shut.  Don’t argue with me.  Do.  It.”

Alyaa gasped out on the air that she didn’t realise she had been holding.  As she reached with a shaking hand to take the piece of tape she heard Rory starting to plead with her.  Small, whispered out, begging little no’s and pleases.  He was shaking his head.  Saying her name, interspersing it with his begging.  It felt like a physical attack upon her.  It hurt to hear it.  It made her want hinm to stop and she had the means to do that in her hand.  It made Ethan into the winner.  It made her into the villain. 

She wanted to be sick.

“I’m sorry Rory,” she whispered as she knelt in front of him.  “S...sorry.  I’ll be gentle  I’m so sorry.”  As she took the tape in both hands and raised it, she almost choked on the feeling in her gut when Rory mouthed “please don’t” at her, the words silent, the terror stripping him of his voice as much as the tape did when she pressed it to his lips.

His tears fell as she stood back up.