#outside of 'did you really think i had forgiven you?'

[beccarodeupontheafternoontrain]

Guest in the Relationship

Damian Wayne x reader

Word count: 3024

Warnings: mugging, some violence, slight angst and unedited

First work I’ve written in a long time so constructive criticism is welcomed, but please be kind and I hope you enjoy :)

I looked at the clock on my bedside table. 7:34. It had been over an hour since Damian was supposed to pick me up for our date. I'd been discussing how much I wanted to see this film for months at this point - ever since the first promo trailer dropped. The tickets I had bought for opening night went unused in my desk drawer from another date Damian had forgotten or been late to.

The number of dates planned but gone uncompleted seemed insurmountable now, endless even. In the year and a half I'd been dating Damian I had gotten used to the constant family emergencies, other plans he had or straight up just him forgetting you had plans in the first place. Damian always apologised profusely afterwards and I had always forgiven him. It was a non-problem. Yes it hurt and was annoying, but it wasn't till recently his inability to prioritise you had become a problem. Jon had gotten himself a boyfriend, a boyfriend who showed up to every date early bearing gifts for Jon. I was beyond happy my best friend had finally found himself someone, but a green lens always covered my vision when he told me about how perfect his relationship was. Especially when he mentioned how him and his boyfriend had gone to see the film I seemed to have mentioned in nearly every sentence I'd spoken as of recent. To top the cake this conversation occurred at a friend lunch date which Damian cancelled going to last minute because of a 'family emergency'. I refused to think about what or rather who a family emergency was. I glanced at the clock again, 7:43. If I didn't leave soon I'd miss the film, again, I wasn't going to waste anymore cinema tickets. With a sigh I braced myself and my heart for once again doing something alone that I was supposed to, should be doing with Damian.

The film had barely reached the halfway point when I finally decided to leave the screen. The vice grip holding my heart captive was too much to handle, the pain was making me physically sick. The film was just as good as Jon had said, I just wished Damian was there to see it with me or had at least replied to one of my texts asking where he was. My heart hurt so much from the disappointment of not only missing Damian, but also from not being able to enjoy the film i'd been waiting for, for so long. Did I really mean so little to Damian? Surely he would have broken up with me by now if he had no interest in me. But then why did we barely see each other anymore, I couldn't even recall the last time we saw each other outside of school. Maybe he just didn't know how to break up with me. My heart burned just at the thought he didn't want me anymore. Tears started rushing down my face, harder than before. I couldn't walk back into the screen like this, I just needed to go back to my house. Despite the 45 minutes in the dark it would take, I decided to walk home, I couldn't bear the idea of anyone on the bus giving me funny looks for crying. I should have really performed a risk assessment before walking around Gotham at night, but I was too focused on trying to calm my heavy breathing and halt my tears.

My steps sped up when my front door became visible, I really just wanted to sleep. I was too distracted to notice the balaclava clad man who had been following me for two blocks already. He grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth to prevent me from screaming for help and pulled me into the closest alleyway. I knew a bruise was going to form from where he shoved me against the wall. My tear's amplified significantly, this was quite frankly the worst time I could be mugged. A knife found its way against my neck "empty your pockets." his words were slow and clear - no fear of being caught by one of the many vigilantes who called Gotham their home. "I don't have anything." Any attempts I was making to appear strong to the man in front of me failed miserably due to the cracking of my voice. My never ending crying from past hour and a bit had done me no favours. The mugger placed the knife more firmly against my neck "I won't repeat myself again" his lips were so close to grazing my ear "empty your pockets." I couldn't see any clear escape from this situation, I needed to try and diffuse it. "Please, I really don't have anything!" My voice was considerably louder and more firm this time. I could feel the edge of the knife slowly cutting into the skin of my neck. Where was the obnoxious bird inspired superhero when you needed him. He always seemed to be lurking around your neighbourhood, so why now was he failing to grace you with his presence. The mugger pushed me further against the wall, hard, so hard I could feel the brickwork through my raincoat. He pushed one hand into my pockets while the other kept the knife placed at my throat. The man got increasingly angered as spare change, my film ticket and a piece of gum fell to the floor. When he finally took my phone out of my pocket, I could tell there was a low chance of me escaping this encounter unscathed. My 5 year old iPhone would barely get him enough money to buy a meal at Bamonte's. The man's body language caused my heart even faster I feared it might actually leave my body. I had never seen someone so angry. He grabbed my face with both hands, the roughness of his hands could leave cuts on my skin themselves. His grip became impossibly tighter on my face in order for him to smash my face into the brick behind. A loud pained yelp escaped my lips. Pleads begging someone would help invade my mind - bird themed hero or neighbour, anyone. The man stepped back, twirling his knife in his hand, staring at me like he was contemplating what to do next. I screamed. It was the only option I had left, there were no other means to escape this situation. There was no way I could overpower this man, especially when he was wielding a knife he'd already cut me with. All I could do was scream for help and pray someone would hear me.

Luckily for me and unfortunately for the man in front of me, a caped shadow appeared from behind the man. Relief possessed my body as I watched the mugger be knocked out. Where moments prior rough hands gripped my face, now gloved hands cradle my cheeks. Jade green eyes analysing my face in a silent question. A question I was not yet ready to answer. Instead I wrapped my arms around Robin's shoulders burying my head in the crook of his neck, the phrase thank you becoming my mantra. Me and Robin had only stumbled across each other a handful of times previously, usually on a late night walk of mine where he started off by lecturing me of the dangers of walking around alone at night and ended with us stargazing on my fire escape discussing our secrets.

I am unsure what happened over the next few minutes, shock and tears overtook my body. All I am sure of is that Robin held me throughout it all. He let me stay holding him, kissing my temple and stroking my hair, reassuring me everything was okay now. When I finally felt like I could breathe again, I removed my head from where it rested against Robin's shoulder so I could look at him "I'm sorry." I said, my voice reverting back to its hoarse quiet mess as a result of my crying. He shook his head at me, removing the remnants of my tears with his fingers. "There's no need to be sorry." I hesitantly smile at him "I guess I should have listened more to your lectures." My attempt at brightening the mood fails when Robin doesn't reciprocate my smile. "I need you to promise me that you'll never walk alone at night again." His greens pleaded with me to listen to him as he continued even more seriously. "If I hadn't gotten there when I had" Robin cuts himself off, looking away from me and swallowed harshly. "I need you to promise me so I know you're safe. I might not always be there to protect you." When he finally looked back at me the desperation in his eyes was clear as day. I presented him with my pinky "I promise." His bodily visibly relaxed in front of me as he joined our pinkies together.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked Robin. "Nearly half 10. Why?" He seemed genuinely baffled as why that would be the first proper thing I thought about after the type of attack I just endured. "Do you know where my phone is?" I chose to ignore his confusion. Robin looked at the floor, searching for where the mugger had dropped my phone. Fortunately, bar a few scratches to the screen, my phone had survived the attack. I had two notifications, one from my mum which arrived before the attack asking for my ETA and another from Jon asking if me and Damian enjoyed the film. No messages from Damian. None. It had been over 4 hours since we were supposed to meet. I could feel the tears start to well back up in my eyes. This wasn't the first time he hadn't responded to my messages, but it had never happened at a time where I really needed him. I needed to go home and I didn't mean the building across the road. I needed to be in Damien's arms.

I looked towards Robin who was collecting my belongings from where the man had dropped them on the pavement. I wanted to escape this situation now. Taking a breath in an attempt to contain my tears, I watched as Robin paused when he picked up my film ticket from the ground an almost incoherent curse coming from his mouth. "I really need to get home now." My teeth clenched, I was so close to crying again. I refuse to cry in front of Robin again tonight. "Thank you so much for everything." Robin opened his mouth as if to respond but I turned around before he could speak a word, practically sprinting to my front door. I just needed to hide in my bed from the world for a while. Too much had happened in such a short space of time. I needed to debate what to do about the whole Damian situation and process the attack I just experienced.

Two hours later and my phone had not stopped buzzing. Damian had been calling and messaging me non-stop to apologise and ask if I'm okay. While all I wanted was for him to hold me and make me feel safe again, how could that happen when I felt like a guest in our relationship. I know I needed to message him to reassure him I was okay and that I just needed time, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Taylor Swift was blasting through my headphones so it was no surprise I didn't hear the knock at my window, or the second, or the third or when the red caped vigilante entered my room. I only noticed him when the duvet protecting me from the rest of the world was removed around my head.

"Hey." Robin seemed nervous. He was never nervous. I sat up in my bed curious as to not only why he was here but also to why he looked so nervous. "Hi." My voice sounded stronger than it had the last time we spoke. He pushed a small rectangular piece of paper into my hands, it was the film ticket I'd left with him before. I looked up at him, tilting my head in confusion. "I just came to return this." His speech was hurried. "And to make sure you're okay of course." I'd thought nothing could ruffle the feathers of this bird, but seemingly I was wrong and I needed to get to the bottom of why he was acting so weirdly. I decided to answer him truthfully. "Apart from the cut to my neck and the probably never ending trauma, I'd say I'm doing okay considering." Robin's eyes flew to my neck, he hadn't noticed the cut till now. "It's really nothing, I'm okay, I swear." I patted the bed next to me as an offer for him to sit, but also in an effort to eradicate the new found fury on Robin's face. Turning to Robin I say "now why don't you tell me what's wrong with you." Robin's anger quickly turns back into apprehension, but his eyes never leave the small cut on my neck. "I don't know what you mean." He replies, words slightly slower than before. I roll my eyes at him, I repeat myself . He's short with his response "nothing." There was no way I was letting this boy leave my room without a proper explanation. "So you go to every damsels room after you rescue them then?" Robins quick response of no was partnered with a shake of the head so familiar to me. Odd. "Then why come visit me after?" Robin was stumped by this question, constantly opening his mouth to answer before closing it again. He finally settled on an answer. "You seemed upset about something else other than the incident earlier" he looked me in the eyes before continuing, god they looked so similar to my favourite pair. Obviously missing Damian was making me look for him in places he had no right being. "As somewhat friends I wanted to see what I could do to help." I'd blanked out half of what Robin had said with my thoughts of Damian. If I was going to get to the bottom of why Robin was acting so weirdly I needed to tell him the truth first. "In all honesty" I started, hands playing with the Wolf teddy given to me by Damian "I'm having some relationship trouble and I don't know what to do about it." Robin's back got impossibly straighter "Problems?" He said through gritted teeth, like he was in pain. "What kind of problems?" I gripped the Wolf harder "I don't think my boyfriend loves me anymore." Tears started to fall down my cheeks as Robin sucked in a breath next to me. He looked just as shell shocked as I felt admitting the fact out loud. Robin placed his arm over my shoulders and drew comforting circles on my arm. "What makes you think that?" Robin seemed to really struggle to ask the question, I found it even harder to answer. "I'm not a priority to him anymore, if I ever was. He's constantly creating excuses not to see or talk to me. Damian is keeping so many secrets from me and there's never ending lies." Tears were falling freely from my eyes now, I didn't care if Robin saw them anymore. Robin was shaking his head, but I finished my ramble about mine and Damian's relationship before he could get a word in "I think there may be another girl." Robin looked stricken, panicked, immediately voicing his disagreement with my conclusion. "I can assure you that is not the case at all" his hands are on my face, trying to get me to look at him but I keep my gaze averted. "How would you know?" Venom tainted my voice. I didn't want to be mean but how on Earth would Robin of all people know of Damian's feelings. Robin called my name, desperation plaguing his words. When I still didn't look at him, too angry to dare, he called me by my nickname "Habibti."

My head whipped round to face Robin's. "What did you just call me?" Instead of answering me, he covered my hands with his and directed them towards his domino mask. "What are you doing?" I ask hesitantly "It's okay, Habibti." I slowly peel away the mask to reveal my boyfriend's face. "I can assure you that I do love you Beloved, more than anything." Damian moves my hands to cover his heart "I'm so sorry my actions have made it seem otherwise. You mean the world to me, Habibti." I moved away from him, sitting on the opposite side of the bed to him. "You lied to me." I said. This was obviously not the reaction Damian was hoping for because the calm that had passed over his face once I removed the mask had quickly turned back into panic. He said my name softly and tried to get closer to me. I clambered off the bed in an attempt to get away from him. "I think I need some time." Damian looked as if I'd just burnt down his whole word and moved towards me again. I retreated back a step, halting his movements and causing more anguish to paint his face. "No." I said "Damian, I need some time to think. Please give me that time." He simply nodded his head, fixed his mask back into position and left through my open window.

I chose to keep Damian's Gotham Academy Orchestra hoodie on as I slipped back into bed, cocooning myself in my duvet and replaying the scene that just occurred over and over again in my head. What was I going to do. What was I supposed to do. I grabbed my wolf teddy and clutched it tighter to my chest. I had no idea what the next move I was going to make was, but I knew I had to decide soon.

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #robin damian #dc robin #robin #damian x reader #angst #vigilante #dc comics #dc universe #damian wayne x reader

[monstersqueen]

i love that so far the reasons i've found why Odasaku's Death Is Totally Ango's Fault are :

his betrayal had a severe emotional impact that lead odasaku to choose death

if he had been with dazai when dazai tried to prevent odasaku to go fight mimic odasaku would have listened

if ango had been honest and they had worked together they could have saved him

i think the closest to a real reason i've found that is not just 'he lied to us :((' is that ango potentially reported gide's power to mori, and that's what made mori decide to use odasaku to destroy mimic

#myposts #bsd march 2023 not lb #really i'd like to know #1) what makes the fandom thinks dazai blames ango for odasaku's death #outside of 'did you really think i had forgiven you?' #which reminder last time they saw each otehr dazai threatened him with torture and odasaku was still alive #(the threat was not as serious as dazai made it seem but still) #and 2) #what do they think is dazai's reasoning for blaming ango #because every reasoning i've found turn around dazai's hurt at ango's betrayal #but you'd think looking at the fandom it's entirely about his love for odasaku #so in the world where dazai's mad at ango because he blames him for the death of odasaku #and it's actually that not projection/expansion of his hurt over the betrayal #how the fuck does he get to that conclusion ! it doesn't have to be fair ! odasaku was incredibly important to him ! #and dazai is. dazai. i don't expect him to be fair when it comes to blaming people for odasaku's death ! #but it has to have some basis !! how did ango's actions lead to odasaku's death. what book did you read. what anime did you watch #i find no interpretation of teh events no matter how unfair that makes odasaku's death on ango #outside of the spying's reveal happening around the same time!! like. did everyone just go #'ango betrayed the mafia' + 'odasaku died' = 'odasaku died because of ango' and assumed that's how dazai feels ? #PLEASE EXPLAIN

[mysterycitrus]

[a roy pov companion snippet to persephone part two]

There was a time, just after his father’s death, when Roy would fall into fits of choking suffocation.

His throat would close, his mouth turning itchy and hot and tight and he’d gasp and claw at his own flesh, desperate for air. Wheezing, bent over on all fours, struggling to breathe and desperate for relief, swallowing around that phantom smoke in his lungs that clung to him and refused to leave.

Brave Bow would find him in the dirt, press a calloused hand to his forehead and brush his hair from his eyes. He’d had the same hands as Roy’s father, then – steady from years fletching arrows.

Calm, boy, he’d say. The fire is gone, and you remain. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

It’d taken years before Roy felt it again, crouched with a needle in his arm and Oliver Queen’s shadow casting him in darkness. That same, encompassing squeeze that pushed his organs taut against his bones, stretched like taffy and drawing all air from his body. It’d been Dinah there with him, that time. Different callouses, with that same tender gentleness.

Then, Jade. Lian. Ollie. Donna. His comfort changed shape, and he learnt to drag himself out of the fire by himself, breathing around the fist in his mouth. The feeling became familiar, and so did the way it would leave him trembling and skittish. In and out. Inhale, exhale. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

Now, he’s sitting on a rooftop in Queens, and the smoke has returned to drown his best friend, because Dick Grayson believes there is evil in him. That all the good he’s done is poisonous. That he bears the burden of a grown man’s mistakes. Because – because Bruce Wayne couldn’t let one good fucking thing in the world lie.

He carries through the motions, watching himself from outside his own body as Dick thrashes, refuses to breathe until Donna physically compresses his lungs for him, forcing him to inhale. His heart is beating so fast it’s as if it’s not beating at all.

Never in his life has Roy wanted to kill someone more.

Donna is staring bullets into the side of his head as they descend into Dick’s apartment, holding him with a tight grip. Dick, younger Dick, seventeen-year-old hurt and miserable and alone Dick, stays silent but his eyes flutter like he’s about to pass out. The bruise on his face has only darkened in the hours since they left Jason Todd’s apartment, and the yellow spots on his cheekbone have started to purple. The bags beneath his eyes are deep.

How did I never notice he was like this? Roy thinks, half incredulous at himself. How did we let this happen that first time?

There was an answer, but it was for an older Dick who still carried all his cards to his chest. Would they be forgiven when that Dick found out what they knew about him? How they knew him now, better than they had before?

Garth, bless him, is holding a performatively casual pose as they gently push Dick through the open window. The soup is in a bowl – the slightly misshapen one that’d been Damian’s first try with a kiln – and Garth looks at him, then the soup, and pivots to start the kettle instead. What Dick really needs is solids, and maybe some protein, Roy knows, but the chances of him just throwing it back up again are high.

“Garth,” Roy says, and Garth turns those big, glistening eyes at him. It’s like staring into a lava lamp. “I’m sorry, but nobody wants any fucking soup.” Then he risks putting his hands on Dick’s shoulders – the kid doesn’t flinch, thank God – and says: “You, stay there. I need to go put my head in the shower.”

He presses down gently until Dick sits on the couch, carefully avoiding Donna’s gaze as she tries to catch his eye and rubs his hands over his face. Inhale, exhale. The smoke thickens, twists, chokes. Roy tilts a little but manages to regain his balance, and passes Donna as she goes to Garth, still fretting in the kitchen. Trusting, finally, that Dick wasn’t going to bolt right this second, he walks out towards the bathroom and immediately collides with Wally.

Wally’s still buzzing a little, and the hairs on Roy’s arms stand on end as he’s zapped when Wally grabs his elbows to hold him upright. There’s a deep line between his eyebrows, but when he looks up over Roy’s shoulders at Dick, his face goes slack. This worked out, actually. It’d keep help keep them both occupied to talk out their feelings, until Roy could get back in control of himself.

“Easy, fleetfeet,” Roy says. “Babysit for a second, would you? I need to wash my face.”

“I thought we decided we didn’t want him to run,” Wally hisses back, but Roy just gives him a shove in the couch’s general direction and staggers down the hall.

He hears Wally move forward as he manages to kick the door shut, falling against it as he starts to gasp. Roy presses his head back against the tiles, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately inhaling in through his nose and out his mouth. His throat itches. A throbbing pain starts at his temple, beating with his heart and radiating to his jaw and neck and shoulders until he tenses into a spasm.

In, out. Breathe, hold, release. Roy manages to swallow, but the noise he makes sounds like a sob, and he fumbles with the faucet until he can trust that the water is drowning him out. Again, and he claps a hand over his mouth. Everything feels ready to snap.

He got through it that first time, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Connor’s patient grace. Remember? He’s still here, just the same.

But this is so much worse, Roy replies internally. Can’t you see? Because now he knows it’s not gonna end. It’ll never end.

No. This is too much.

The first time he grabs at his phone, it falls from his trembling fingers and lands on the floor with a crack. It takes him one, two more tries to retrieve it, and instead of standing he folds himself onto the floor, sat pressed against the wall next to the basin. The blue light makes his eyes sting and seeing Lian smiling back just makes that rolling nausea return, thinking of a young Dick Grayson stare at his daughter in wonder. Eight years old, like Dick’s own father hadn’t fallen when Dick was that age. Like Dick had lost a father all over again a decade later. It hurts so bad.

Thankfully, when he swipes through his speed dial, she answers.

“You’re late with an update, boyo.”

For a moment, he can’t even get the words out, just audibly breathes into the receiver with his eyes shut and his free hand twisted into his hair.

“Roy? What happened? Is Dick alright?”

He has to swallow around the lump in his throat again.

“Is Lian there?” Roy manages to get out in a croak. He truly doesn’t know what he’ll do if Mia’s taken her to MOMA or something. Maybe permanently move into Dick’s bathroom. “She free to talk?”

“Sure.” He hears Dinah move and begin to walk. She’s calm, but her steps are quick and loud down the line. “Give me an answer, Roy. If you want to talk to her because you’re bleeding out-“

“No, no,” Roy says. “No, it’s just – it’s been a long day.”

It’s only about twelve pm, but Dinah doesn’t comment on it. He hears a door open, then shut. His heartrate picks up again.

“Dinah,” he says, and he hears her stop. “Dinah.”

She knows, clearly.

“He’s seventeen, Dinah.”

“Yeah, Babs said.” A pause. “Seventeen, huh?”

“He’s…” Roy stops, tugs at his hair a little. “I can’t tell you –he’s been saying-”

“You were all kids. You know that right? The stuff you were doing wasn’t normal, in retrospect. Makes sense he’d freak you out.”

But it’s not just that. It was the casual acceptance of baiting Deathstroke. Dick’s conviction of his own fault about losing Robin. His terror of confronting Bruce. The profound, absolute loss of everything. Dick Grayson lost his father at eight years old.

Roy can’t reply to that, really, so Dinah says:

“Here she is.”

There’s a shuffle, another pause, then –

“Daddy?”

The tension leaves his body so fast he almost drops the phone entirely, and his legs properly unfold into a sprawl.

“Hey, princess.”

“You okay?” Her voice raises in pitch slightly, like when she’s getting nervous. He’d put a lot of effort into stopping her from sounding like that, so it’s jarring now. “Dinah said… Dinah said-“

“I’m fine. Really. I just wanted to check that Mia wasn’t buying you more Legos from the giftshop with my card.”

“They were mermaid Legos,” Lian tells him, worry gone entirely and now a little huffy. “And Mia said – Mia said you were a landlord. And could buy them.”

“Daddy is not a gazillionaire like Batman.”

“Does Batman have Legos in the Batcave?”

Batman has bloodied memorabilia of all the people he’s let down, Roy thinks privately, but says instead:

“No, but he has a dinosaur.”

“A real one?”

“No. It’s like the one’s out of Jurassic Park. A robot dinosaur.”

“A robot dinosaur,” Lian says rapturously. “Can we visit sometime? With Uncle Dick?”

I am never letting either of you near him ever again, is the correct answer, as much as Dick would throw a fit over it. Roy clears his throat, rubs at his eyes, and changes the subject.

“Maybe. But I want a school update. I didn’t get to talk to you about it, yesterday.”

“Well,” she stops, and he can hear her think it over. “I’m better at spelling than Cassidy, because she always forgets her ayches. But I taught her a trick for it. I can teach you too!”

My best friend was only eight, he thinks.

“Yeah, baby,” he says in a hoarse voice, and tilts back his head. “Tell me all about it.”

#this is an unedited snippet from september 2023 so plz no one judge me #roy harper #dick grayson #nightwing #arsenal #donna troy #teen titans #lian harper #persephone tag #fic #batman #dc comics #mart #roy harper is very dear TO ME!!!!!!!!!!

[suguru-getos]

| Bully! Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Part 4 |

Part: 3 / 2 / 1

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna.

Chapter Summary: After the cafeteria incident, Gojo denies to accept your money in halves, and your primal urges of snapping at him come out after suppressing them for weeks. He’s bored of being a bully because it’s not fun anymore. Why would you give him money like that? Jeez… 🙄

Warnings: Reader is mean and Satoru is mean T_T A/N: Can’t do more than 50 mentions in a post 😭 I’m sorry I will be adding the rest of yall in the comments in the next part. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. 🥰

Taglist: @mc-reborn @tvdumarvelhpsimp @alula394 @getoxmahito @knanamii @he4rts444mi @localginger22 @animeisforkings @ran6ia @creative1writings @lenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @zoemaelol @shoutascoffeepot @whydohumansss @nyahctrl @a-trashbag @yoontaedotin @tojisworm-5 @mo0nforme @luciledreamz @camilo-uwu @sassyfoxunknown @bitchyinternetinfluencer @bakananya @mizzowizzo @k1y0yo @bl0odycutz @daidaiseam-blog @flirtyjen @jihyuniepark @stupiditystaar @lu-lynds @aymasakusa @creative1writings @roscpctals99 @eravariety @nanananananaiknow @b4tm4nn @milkm4nz @millimacis @bubera974 @ranhanabi777 @bleachisfood @thealphagirl @pinkprincessglitterzombie @tojisslxtt @chilichopsticks @deegausserr @tremendousdinosaurpizza @shittyhair234 @trisharay13 @luvvmae @tremendousdinasourpizza @stuckinaoaktree @ropickle @onlywaytobesane @mayumemehhh @lovernatashaa @rott3npoetry @ilovebattinson @qxdlx2 @herelegancy @megumisthirdog @k-sv @lyah17 @roscpctals99 @polarbvnny @eyes-ofhell @kazuahhh @theitchbbbb @millimacis @victoria1616

To be honest, your guts were excruciatingly high yesterday. You essentially ruined everything there is. All your efforts & hardwork to get rid of Gojo’s clutches in vain because you couldn’t control your mouth. After kicking the guy down in the cafeteria, you were called by Yaga and suspended. What else did you expect really? A freshmen kicking a senior? Nope. When Satoru does it you’re sure it wouldn’t have anyone bat a single eye to the ordeal. Another grumpy reminder that — you & the Honored one, are different. Satoru didn’t need to prove it himself.

Cowardice and your name are rhymes right now. All that classes for Taijutsu paid off to recover your leftover shred of dignity, however, you couldn’t fathom the expression in Gojo's face. He looked amused, impressed… weird. Satoru looks weird. He didn't respond when you told him to shove the money up his ass. Now you have to walk the talk. Staring at the wall, you try your best to think of a believable excuse to ask your mom for the sum of money. You check your savings, only 700 dollars. You should probably kill yourself. You can't really ask your mother about this… what were you thinking?

The thoughts are cut off by Satoru's blade like voice in your head. God you hate him so much. So much… if you were ever forgiven for a murder, it would be his. Your mind was tired with everything happening and you could feel the force in your heavy lids lulling you in bed. School next day…

You take your 700 dollars with you, you will tell the bastard that you will return the rest of the money tomorrow. Once you're outside Tokyo Tech, you take a deep breath. Walking inside and ready to be mauled. There he was, standing at the entrance and waving pathetically cheerfully. He loves making you suffer doesn't he? You grit your jaw, walking towards him. "Good morning, Gojo san." You could almost choke yourself for adding the honorific.

"Morning lil shit." He muses, leaning in closer to you until his breath fans over your face. "We were bein' a little too bratty yesterday." He muses, and your face lacks colour instantly. His eyes were launched at your frame without a care in the world. He likes making you suffer, doesn't he?

"So?" He clicks his tongue, smirking in his usual charming way, looking at you through his glasses. "Kneel down and apologize, and I'll forgive you. We can start again, no biggie. See? I have such a big heart." You bite your lip, he has no regards for your self-respect whatsoever.

You finally meet his eyes, gathering your courage to withstand his insults once again. "I have uhm, seven hundred dollars with me right now." Oh you look pathetic fiddling with your bag and giving him the cash you saved for your new laptop. "I will return the rest tomorrow." You sound determined, at least your mom wouldn't pay the full sum of it. It would be bearable.

"I can't shove it up my ass s' too less." Satoru laughs, clinging on to what you said to him. He almost feels sick now. This was unnecessarily dragged to the point of no return, he thought you would apologize and beg him to leave you alone, and he would. Then you'd see how amazing he is and why everyone is in love with him. Why girls wish they could go on a date with him pft- even if he talks to them, they feel grateful.

Here you were, holding a sum of money for the richest boy in school, in the city even. "I'll pay you the rest tomorrow." You managed to speak, and Satoru HATES this.

There is a difference between bullying and teasing and abuse. He crossed that line, not backing down because he hoped you would. You're the first one not to. He feels his chest tighten and a pinching in his throat as you hold his wrist, bringing it closer to you and putting the sum of money on his palm.

His baby-blues widen at that, and it feels like the money is practically burning his skin. It's a reflex with which he yanks his hand away. As if its burning him.

"I don't take half-payments." He managed to come up with that pathetic lie, growling and enraged, walking away.

What a fucking cunt… but hey; at least he didn't bother you for the rest of the day.

During the lunch time, you almost feel liberated that you don't have to report to him anymore. His problem he didn't accept the money. His fucking problem. You stood on your words, almost… you will give him the rest of the money tomorrow and be free of him for good. How amazing… how beautiful to imagine that.

Everyone fears him, everyone loves him. What kinda dude even. Maybe he doesn't have any real friends because he bought them all with money. Tsk…

You take your food and walk to the area where your classmates stood. You are like a walking marvel to them, someone who stood up to her senior and kicked his ass. What you don't know is Satoru Gojo ended all chances of revenge coming your way. What does it take? A simple: 'You have beef with her you have beef with me'.

Lunch is… peaceful, until you notice Satoru walking in the cafeteria, drinking Cola and with his pathetic group of friends. They can rot too.

You looked down, evading eye contact is the best way to avoid any unwanted conversations after all.

You were eating secluded, your only friend sitting beside you who doesn't mind being judged to be around you sitting next to you. "Uh oh, he's coming here." She hummed, getting nervous. You sighed, looking at her and holding her hand gently. "Thanks for your company, I can handle from here, I promise." You wouldn't let her be stomped by the Prince charming. She's been kind to you. "Are you sure?" She asked, and you nodded, patting her shoulder.

Before she could lift her plate, Satoru sat next to you. "I don't remember allowing anyone to leave? Did I?" he smiles, all childish, feigning a harmless look. "Sit. Down." He warns and she instantly sits down. You could feel her hands shiver. No, you wouldn't let her be dragged into this.

"What is it? Gojo san." You looked at him, making eye contact. "Just came to check if you had a spine." His hand lands on your nape, touching and probing the spine bone peeking out. "You do, no?"

You shudder, leaning away a little only to have him hold your neck and pull you close, whispering gravely, "If you haven't paid me back then you can't run off from your job, Pet."

You snarled at that nickname again. "I told you to take the fucking money today and tomorrow." Struggling gravely and looking at him like a wounded lion. He's wounded your pride, your self-respect.

"And I said, I do not pick up pennies. Until then, you do what I say." He chuckled, "Or you're dumb and lack common sense?"

It's been weeks. Literal weeks and you're at your breaking point. Frustration bubbles in your eyes and they gloss up. You don't want this jerk to see you like this. Fucking hell you don't!

"What did I even do to you I don't understand…" You mumble, watching him lean his hand away.

At this point things have been too rotten, and Satoru hates to admit but he just wants to hang out. He can't admit that now after raining hell on you and he's too prideful to. It's not fun anymore, it stopped being fun the moment he asked you to fetch ice-cream and the moment you looked at him with 'expected' eyes when he pulled that stunt in the cafeteria.

"You've been a bitch that's all." He shrugs, looking away. His tone surprisingly tender. "Maybe if you can apologize for being one instead of all this drama and cryin' and victim bla-"

A loud smack echoed through the hall, and Gojo's cheeks had your handprint crisp and clear. "I'm fucking sorry I wouldn't suck your cock and wag my tail around you pathetically." Oh you're losing all of the carefully supressed rage, your patience waning off to nothing. You've been supressing and supressing and supressing…. and now it's erupting out. Dangerously.

Tears fall from your eyes as you look at him, "I hate you so much I wish you could just fucking die! Not everyone's as rich as you ASSHOLE! MY MOM WOULD FREAK THE FUCK OUT AND CALL ME A USELESS PIECE OF SHIT FOR BORROWING MONEY ON RUINING SOMEONE'S HIGH CLASS SHIRT! Not everyone's born with a silver spoon!" People look at you and Satoru both judgementally. You know things have sprung out of hand. "You fuckin- GO! GO AND ASK MY MOTHER AND MY FATHER AND MY BROTHER AND EVERYONE IN MY LAST NAME TO PAY MISTER GOJO SATORU BACK BECAUSE HIS SHIRT GOT RUINED AND HE DIDN'T GET AN APOLOGETIC COCKSUCKING BITCH IN RETURN!!"

Before your senses could take over, you took your bottle and put it on his hair, drenching him. You can't let Karma take care of him, you are Karma.

Satoru only stays silent and Suguru snorts from the sidelines. In a weird, sadistically twisted way, he likes what happened. You just removed some of his guilt with this.

"R-right.." He hummed, "Okay so…" He stood up, extending an arm. "Now that we're even. I think we are…. let's restart. Nyeh?"

"Gojo Satoru." He extends his hand, as if he is introducing himself for the first time ever. Your eyes will fall off your fucking sockets and you will die of an awkward mouth-agape heart failure.

What the fuck was wrong with this dude?

"ROT IN HELL!"

#gojo satoru #gojo imagines #gojo series #jjk series #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk drabbles #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader

[fallingdownhell]

Omg pls a part two for Kaeya and Diluc forgetting your birthday it’s so good I LOVE ANGST <3

Alrighty, fine. Since so many more people asked for a part 2, here it is.But I can't promise that everything goes fine..

Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya

Content: gender neutral reader; hurt/comfort; angst; hurt/no comfort; one is gonna be forgiven, the other one not

Word count: 1,9k words

Please enjoy reading!

Diluc

Gods, he was so exhausted.

He wished for nothing more than to just walk over to his bedroom and fall asleep on the bed, but he couldn't. He had some important matters he still had to attend to before he could go do that.

He was currently hunched over his desk, scanning over some documents that needed his attention. It was late at night, yet there was still light shining from under the door, as well as footsteps coming from the mansion.

Diluc paid that no mind however, trying to focus back on his work. However, when he heard a pair of footsteps walk up the staircase, he put his pen down, listening to them.

He was fairly sure that it was you, so he listened to it, hoping that you would come inside to check on him. He knew he shouldn't have lashed out at you like that earlier and he wanted to apologize to you for it.

However, the person outside kept walking, past the door to his office and instead went into the next room, which was the bedroom that belonged to the both of you.

At first, he didn't think too much of it, maybe you were just really tired and going to bed now. But, as he continued to listen, it got more and more strange to him. Your footsteps hadn't quietet down at all. You were apparently still walking around the room, he could hear the opening and closing of drawers and closets.

He had half a mind to walk over there and ask you what you're doing in the middle of the night. Then again, he wasn't really any better and he really had to finish this, but when suddenly a second pair of footsteps climbed up the stairs, his attention was taken to them.

A few seconds latter, soft knocking was heard on the wodden door, followed by Adelinde's voice asking to enter the study. Diluc allowed her inside but turned his attention finally back to his work.

He noticed her approaching the table and putting a plate down in front of him. He glanced at it, laying his eyes upon a nice looking piece of cake.

"Did you bake that, Adelinde? It looks delicious. I'll eat it once I'm done here."

He was about to dismiss her, but the fact that she hadn't said a word made him look at her with his full attention now.

"Master Diluc.. do you really not remember?"

"Remember what, Adelinde? You'll have to be more specific than that."

She looked at him for a few more seconds, it almost seemed to him like her eyes were boring into his very soul. Then, she turned around and approached the door again. She stepped out into the hallway, moving to close the door but before she did so, she said one last thing to him.

"Today was their birthday."

Then Adelinde closed the door, leaving Diluc in the room all by himself.

Hearing those words put him into a shock. No.. this couldn't be..

He...forgot?

Suddenly, thousands of times and situations played in his head where you tried to grab his attention and he had dismissed you every single time.. how long had he been treating you like this?

Then, a loud sound rang from the bedroom next door, and Diluc suddenly got ahold of himself again.

He immediately shot up and ran outside, bursting through the door to your shared room, startling you in the process. But the sight before him made his heart clench like never before.

The sight of you, stuffing some of your clothes and other belongings into a bag, your eyes red and swollen, probably from crying.

"D-Diluc? What are you... why are you here?"

You asked him, but he didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to you, steps quick, and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

"D-diluc? What-!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, (Name)."

Suddenly understanding what this was about, you relaxed a bit, but didn't do anything else. You didn't reciprocate the hug, either, and no words left your lips..

"I'm so sorry.. for everything. I didn't even realize how badly I was treating you." He fell on his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his, holding them tightly.

"Please, believe when I say that this was never my intention. I love you very dearly, (Name). I know I didn't show it for some time, but I do. Nothing can ever change how I feel about you. So please... don't leave.."

By the end of it, his voice sounded broken, silent cries leaving him as tears streamed down his face. You looked down on him, seeing him all broken down in front of you, and you feel your resolve begin to waver.

Maybe.. maybe you could try again with him..

But then you remembered the last few months, how he pushed you away every single time you tried to adress something with him... how he pushed you away on your own birhtday...

Gently, you pull your hands out of his grip. Diluc immediately understood what this gesture meant, yet he wasn't willing to accept this.

"(Name), please-!"

"No, Diluc. I can't anymore. Who's to tell me that you won't go back to treating me like this after a few weeks again? I tried it. I tried to deal with it and I tried to talk to you, but you never wanted to. You always shut me down. Well, I hope you're happy because I am done. I can't keep feeling like I'm worth nothing to you.

Thank you, for all the time I had with you, but it's over now."

You gave him one last, mournful look, then grabbed your bag and walked past him.

He let you... there was nothing else he could do..

He listened to you walking down the stairs, listened to the heavy front door open, and then.. It feel closed again.

And just like that.. you were out of his life..

He lost you and this time, he had noone else to blame but himself and his own stupid decisions..

He broke down again, crying so hard like he hadn't done in years. If only he wouldn't have been so stupid..

Kaeya

Tired and still angry from the events that had happened yesterday, Kaeya was sitting in his office again, stationed at the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

He was looking through files and documents he didn't get to finish yesterday because he suddenly had the workload of four other people pushed onto him.

He was still angrily mumbling to himself when a knock on the door resonated within his office. He didn't bother giving an answer, yet the other person took that as permission to enter, pushing the door open to reveal Lisa to the stressed out Kavalry captain.

"Kaeya, there you are! We were missing you at (Name's) party yesterday. Why weren't you there?"

Oh, now that pissed him off even more. He put his utensiles down, trying to control his emotions and actions. He looked at Lisa, smiling at her, yet it was obvious how faked and forced it was.

"Well, I think the bigger question here is, why were you at a party during work hours in the first place. I wouldn't mind you going, but why convince everyone else along, leaving all of the work for me alone to handle?"

"..Why wouldn't I go to the party I, myself, organized?", she questioned, looking at him confused. Like she was trying to figure something out.

"You were organizing that atrocious thing? Well, in that case that begs even more questions. Again, why pull everyone else along except me? Also, why plan it in my and (name's) shared house, of all places?"

She didn't answer immediately like the times before. Instead, she was still looking at Kaeya, until a few seconds later, her entire face lit up in realization.

"Oh, you idiot..", she mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Excuse me? I do think it's not-!"

"Kaeya, you idiot! You really forgot?"

"...Forgot what?", he asked, now being confused himself. Why was she reacting this way?

"You really did... it was their birthday yesterday! That's what the party was for! Also, wasn't this whole thing your idea in the first place?"

At her words, his eyes widened in shock, realization hitting him now as well. He did.. He forgot your birthday.

Immediately after that, he thought back to yesterday.. the words he spat in your mouth.. the way your eyes teared up in front of him.. and he just ignored it, walked away like the entire world just revolved around him alone..

He took one look at Lisa, who was just nodding at him. He did so as well, grabbing his coat and then he started running.

Kaeya ran out the headquarters through the streets of Mondstadt, only having one destination in mind. He never slowed down, not even for a second to catch his breath. Only when he was finally standing in front of his own door did he do so as he was trying to fish the keys out of his pocket.

He unlocked the door and immediately entered.

"(Name)?", he shouted as soon as he closed the door behind him. He listened for a few seconds, but... nothing. No answer, no sounds.

He panicked a bit as he began to search the place. The house was still a mess from yesterday, but he didn't care for that right now.

Kaeya searched through every room, shouting your name to try and grab your attention.

The panic began to settle a bit as he opened the bedroom door, seeing you still asleep on the bed.

He approached you, finding you clutching his own pillow close to you, like you have been searching for some comfort. Your eyes were all red and swollen up, because of your crying.

'The crying that you, yourself, caused..', he thought, feeling sorry for what he had said to you.

He went on his knees on the floor, next to the bed. He inspected your, now peaceful looking face, for a few more seconds.

"(Name), wake up, please.", he said gently, stroking some stray hair out of your face.

You began shifting in your sleep and soon enough, you opened your eyes.

Seeing Kaeya, you remember his hurtful words from yesterday night right away, so you were trying to create some space between the both of you.

"No, no!", he exclaimed, getting up from his knees and putting his arms around you, hugging you close to him.

"I am so sorry about yesterday, (name). I don't know how it could have possibly slipped my mind, but it did. Words can't describe how awful I feel about the things I said, but please know that I meant none of them.

I love you, and I'll do anything for you. You have every right to be angry with me and never forgive me for what I said and did, but.. please.."

After he finished, you stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to this. Then, you felt something wet against your shoulder. First it was only one time, then it got more and more and you knew that Kaeya was crying against your shoulder right now.

You then, finally, hugged him back.

He was so relieved that you did this, hoping that this meant one step into the right direction.

Maybe.. someday in the future, you can forgive Kaeya for this...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader scenarios #genshin impact x reader scenarios #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr #diluc scenarios #diluc angst #diluc x reader angst #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader angst #kaeya angst

[almondest]

—When you're mad

⨾ Blade ， Jing Yuan ， Dan Heng ， Sampo ， Gepard

Blade isn't the type to know how to express himself well, so maybe he'll be the type to try and start idle chit chat before getting on the main topic.

You were sitting comfortably at your shared bed with blade, reading a book until you hear the door creak open.

You looked up, only to see the face you didn't want to see right now.

"Hey." He whispers as he leans on the door frame.

"Hey.." You reply unenthusiastically, directing your focus back to what you were doing.

Suddenly, bandaged arms slowly wrapped around you, feeling his warm breath make contact with your skin.

"Forgive me." He whispers, slowly leaving you with little kisses.

Jing Yuan will use mimi to get you to ease your anger at him, thinking that aside from his warm embrace and whispers of apologies, using a big, warm and cuddly creature will woo you back to normal.

You suddenly looked at the approaching creature towards you, your eyes instantly brightened up. "Mimi! Oh, how I miss you!" You say, opening your arms to welcome it to your embrace.

Mimi makes their way towards you, resting itself to your lap as you play with its fur.

As you put your attention to your lover's pet, you suddenly felt warmth enter your body, tensing up all of a sudden with the sudden presence. "what does the general want?"

"This general wants to be forgiven by his beautiful, gorgeous, and pretty little dove." He says, stuffing his face on your neck as he embraces you affectionately.

Dan Heng would certainly buy you a simple gift as a sign of sincerity in winning you back, along with a soft-spoken explanation.

Dan Heng returned home after a day's work in the astral express, holding a paper bag seemingly from Jarilo VI.

"I'm home, darling..." he lightly knocks at your shared bedroom, making you turn your attention to him.

Slowly, your eyes trailed down at the paper bag he was holding and a small bouquet of ball peonies.

"Ah, I...I've got these for you." He fake-coughs, handing you the bouquet with a tint of blush on his face.

You accepted them, but still kept a blank face to make you look like you hadn't forgiven him yet.

"And...I got you this." Handing you the paper bag, containing a book named, 'Tale of the Winterlands'.

"Now, am I deserving to be forgiven now?"

Sampo at first wouldn't take your anger seriously at first and would most likely approach you as if nothing ever happened, but once he finally sees that you are really, really mad at him...

Dealing with Sampo was just as hard as trying to bathe a cat who's afraid of water, and last night was your very limit.

Waking up with the other side of the bed unusually cold, you sat up and observed your surroundings— only to end up not seeing the familiar neck length blue-haired lover of yours.

Thinking that he must've gone out or something, you dragged open the curtains of your window to observe the falling droplets of rain, your eyes trailing up from the sky and down to the ground until you spotted the man you've been looking for...drenched, Totally drenched.

"Sampo Koski, what in the world are you doing outside right now?!" You shouted in panic, as you stared at him who was looking up at you.

"What? I punished myself by standing in the rain, staring at the window as I waited for you to open the curtains." He explained, his face suddenly going serious.

"Will you forgive me now?"

Gepard thinks that giving your significant other some space to calm their anger would suffice, so he did so. By avoiding you for a week and taking his focus on his work.

It's been a week ever since your heated argument with Serval's brother, technically the man you've been together with for quite some time and truthfully told, your anger towards him had already subsided after about a day or two.

But now, the only thing you've been feeling now is fear and sadness. Probably because he hasn't even bothered speaking to you, or apologizing, making you overthink.

With this issue at hand, you thought that maybe you should be the one apologizing instead... Since clearly, you can say that you were also at fault.

Waiting for him to return back home at 12 in the midnight, you were sitting by the couch with the light dimly turned on.

Soon, the door opened revealing a tired Gepard but you ignored it, having your mind clouded with your very objective for the night.

"Gepard Landau, please be honest with me." You say, walking towards him as you trap him against the wall.

"Are you still mad at me? Is that why you've been ignoring me for the past week?" You ask, biting your lip in the process but what you expected didn't turn out to be the reality.

Gepard Landau, was staring at you with wide eyes and a flustered face.

"Why would I be? Rather, I've been avoiding you because I thought you needed some space..."

'Ah, misunderstandings..'

#𔘓 ﹏ almondest's works #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fluff #hsr blade #honkai star rail blade #blade x reader #blade star rail #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan hsr #jing yuan x reader #hsr gepard #gepard #gepard hsr #gepard x reader #sampo koski #hsr sampo #sampo hsr #sampo x reader #sampo koski x reader #dan heng #hsr dan heng #dan heng hsr #dan heng x reader

[messydiabolical]

i’d once read a Mass Effect take that has been stewing in my melon ever since, about Wrex and him demanding a cure for the genophage during the war in 3. (I think it was on twitter but I can’t remember for sure. Just the idea of it stuck with me.) The general sentiment was that this was a dick move on his part, that there were “bigger problems” and this wasn’t the time and it was cruel and manipulative of him to put Shepard in that position. He should have helped out first and Shepard would have helped him back once the war was over. A lot of people chimed in agreeing, saying how they stopped liking Wrex after that. It bothered me for a bunch of reasons I didn’t feel I could adequately articulate, but i’m gonna try now. Prepare for my meandering thought style! The governing bodies of the Mass Effect Galaxy have repeatedly proven that they believe themselves superior to other species and know what’s best for everyone. They don’t let all species have a say in the council, always look out for their own species’ interests in so much as it pertains to keeping things as they are, and will happily go along with literal genocide to aid this. They approve of secret police and biological warfare espionage tactics. They weaponise bureaucracy to hide their cruelty behind ‘oh red tape has us bound, sorry uwu’.   I’m going to try to remain pertinent to the Wrex subject but as one great example of these governing bodies ways of dealing with percieved outsiders: The first contact war is a great example of how ludicrous and fascist things are.. ‘It’s ilegal to use this thing so we’re going to kill you for it’ without so much as a heads up. How were humans supposed to know that, exactly? The governing bodies of this place do not care about anyone outside their own self interests. Fall out of line and they will work to end you. Until you prove you might be useful or of interest to them in some way (or a threat). And then of course we later learn the asari were breaking these laws themselves, hoarding this tech to stay superior. Classic. Anyway, back to Wrex. Wrex knows this. Wrex has seen how the krogan are regarded and treated, the dangerous monolith species, outsiders who can never be let in, never forgiven, never given a chance to grow or change. For a long arse time. “But the krogan were getting out of control and also committing genocide, the genophage was a last ditch resort to stop a galactic war” … And it’s been hundreds of years since then. That 'last ditch resort' wasn’t used as a stop gap, a reset to even out the playing field so that new negotiations and relations could be developed. It was used to end the krogan, and has been actively maintained to continue that, ever since. Do you really, truly believe that if Wrex petitioned the council/ world leaders to negotiate reversing the genophage, they’d even let him have an audience with them? And if they did, do you really think these people, with their history and all the shit they pull, would listen and be reasonable? I can already hear the responses, that weaponised bureaucracy (“you raise an interesting point Mr Wrex but unfortunately we are recovering from a war don’t you know, please come back in 300 years for review, we are very interested in discussing this further then!”) Wrex is old, wise and knows exactly what is up. The only way the governing bodies of power were ever going to have a listen, was if he had something they needed. The war with the reapers provided that. And even then, he knew that they wouldn’t listen outright; having Shepard’s voice was a way to get the foot in the door. It makes my heart hurt to think about that honestly; how dehumanising (dekroganising?) it must feel to be the ruler of your people and know that you have to rely on your alien friend to even get someone to listen to you, when what you want to say is an extremely reasonable “hey committing genoicde against my people sucks, stop that now”. Anyway, Wrex was right, this was his one chance to save his people and he took it. Good for him.

#mass effect #urdnot wrex #wrex #my hot take of the day #I usually avoid hot takes because discourse is exhausting #but this one has been revolving in my mind for like a year since I read it #and I read that great post about how dystopian mass effects governments are earlier and my mind has THOUGHTS now

[khakirnelm]

From an incorrect quote generator

If Melody was a human tho

Phoebe: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Melody: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Phoebe, desperately, as Melody bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Melody: Oh! B positive. Phoebe: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Melody:

-

Phoebe: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Melody: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

-

Phoebe: Whaddya call a fish with no eye? Melody, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Phoebe: Phoebe: fsh

-

Phoebe: So what's for dinner? Melody, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.

-

Callie: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Phoebe: Mine just says "Phoebe no." Callie: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

-

Trevor: Not elegant enough to be a vampire, not jock enough to be a werewolf... Phoebe: Goblin it is.

-

Trevor: My head hurts. Phoebe: That’s your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.

-

Computer: Please enter a password. Phoebe: *types in Melody* Computer: Your password is too weak. Phoebe: How fucking DARE YOU-

-

Phoebe: So what are your political beliefs? Podcast: Well, I think Pikachu would be a lot more powerful if he had a gun.

-

Callie: You spent all our money on THIS?? Gary, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

-

Phoebe: Why are you on fire? Melody: This is just how my day is going.

-

Podcast: Change is inedible.

Phoebe: Don't you mean inevitable?

Podcast, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

-

Phoebe: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--

[translation: I’M SORRY]

Callie: What's that?

Phoebe: Remorse code.

Callie: I'm even angrier now.

-

Phoebe: I don’t do relationships.

Melody: *exists*

Phoebe: Shit.

-

Trevor: Kissing can burn 26 calories in a minute, wanna work-out with me? ;)

Lucky: Are you saying that I'm fat?

Trevor: No that's not what I meant I-

-

Phoebe: Podcast... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Podcast: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned.

Phoebe:

Phoebe: I wrote sanitize, Podcast.

-

Callie, tending to Trevor’s wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Trevor: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

-

Peck: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Phoebe: I will politely decline.

-

Podcast: I’m having one of those things! A headache with pictures!! Phoebe: you mean an idea..? Podcast: MMMMHHMMM!!

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Phoebe: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though. Trevor: You need to stop.

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Phoebe: How did none of you hear what I just said? Callie: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours. Gary: I got distracted about halfway through. Trevor: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

-

If Melody was a human, again

Phoebe: HELP! I TOLD MELODY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK! Trevor, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

-

Podcast: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time? Phoebe: The car takes a screenshot. Trevor: For the last time, get the fuck out.

-

Gary, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Callie: You did WHAT– Phoebe: William Snakepeare

-

Trevor: You look nice, I want to kiss you. Lucky: What? Trevor: I SAID IF YOU DIED, I WOULDN’T MISS YOU.

-

Gary: The best revenge, really, is being nice! Podcast: [in the distance] Or murder.

-

Gary: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Callie: You would eat yourself? Gary: I wouldn’t even question it.

-

Phoebe: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO- Melody: It was me... Phoebe: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

#phoebe spengler #melody ghostbusters #phoebe x melody #incorrect quotes #if melody actually had blood #ghostbusters frozen empire #adding them as they appear #like editing if i find another one #callie spengler #trevor spengler #podcast #gary grooberson #lucky ghostbusters #walter peck #checkmatch

[ravencincaide]

The word that made the difference 

Summary:  You knew you had to get professional help even if you did not want to, Dazai’s words and actions made it absolutely clear to you he wouldn’t tolerate anything else, and Chuuya seemed to silently agree with him. Still the answer you got was not for the question you asked; but that one word was enough to make you reevaluate everything. 

Pairing: Dazai x Chuuya xfem! Reader (skk x fem!reader) 

Author note: An independent continuation of Desperate times series, and next part of  Happy unhappy home! Check that series out if you’d like more angst, skkx reader, new parents, all that and see more of what happened right before this scene! 

Warning: Cursing, depression/postpartum depression, New parents/exhausted parents =bad choices/reactions, Angst,  

Enjoy~

Pregnant

The word felt unfamiliar- surreal- like a misdiagnosis wrapped in excuses, wrapped in women’s issues and wrapped in reasons to get you out of the office. Yet it was as if that singular word explained everything you had experienced lately and nothing at all. Maybe it explained the hopelessness, the darkness, the unbearably tense existence that has become your home; but it could not explain the way you felt about the twins. The inability to connect with them. Or the inability to feel any warmths from Dazai and Chuuya. Perhaps, at this point, you were so ruined and wrong that you could not connect with anyone. Not the twins, not Dazai and not Chuuya. 

We think you have postpartum depression

A part of you wanted to stand up, run out of the medical office and into the waiting room right outside where the four of them were waiting. To rub it into the two mafioso's faces that they were wrong. Ha the geniuses were not genius enough to sidestep medical school, and it wasn’t as easy as to use some template they took from god-knows-where and assed you by it instead of talking with you, asking you, helping you. They were wrong- you were right. You won. 

But what was your prize? 

“ I have never had a reason to hit you. You’ve always been a smart girl- don’t give me another reason to do it. Again. If you’re sick- get help.” 

Dazai’s words from a day ago rang in your ears. His tone, the iciness in his gaze as he brought you down to the knees in cold standing water with a single slap repeated itself in your mind. Like a never-ending loop it played before your eyes. Your mind, the twisted bastard, hadn't left the image unchanged, but rather conjured up the way it must have looked from all angles; from the side, from above and even from below. Driving in the humiliation further. Like some dramatic exaggerated scene out of a soap opera, a middle aged housewives tv-series, and the act was meant to be a huge burden for the main stars in season one but then it gets solved three episodes later. 

Forgiven and forgotten.

But this wasn’t a soap opera, this wasn’t some lame drama created to satisfy lonely women as they waited for their loving husbands to come home from golf. This was reality. Your reality- your life. And soon, not only your own. That one realization grounded; it was enough to escape the clutches of shock and confusion and placed you back inside the small, simple medical office and the woman opposite you.  

“ Well yeah, it’s no wonder you’ve been feeling like shit the last few weeks. I’d say congratulations but really— “ 

Yosano’s voice faded into the background again; your mind tiffany twisted, drowned out her words as more flashbacks pulled you under the surface of reality. Simple things, comparisons like the joy last pregnancy brought and the dread this one carried. How caring, sweet and gentle it started but how difficult the previous one ended; and how difficult this one started while the thought of it getting worse filled you with dread. 

Blood rushed to your ears; your pounding heart overshadowed all sounds, dulled the quiet medical office into an obnoxiously loud space. Your vision blurred, tunneled and span. Inadvertently you pressed the fingers of your shaking hand to your eyes and rubbed them, then shook your head to try and clear the dark dots which played in your sight. 

You wondered how and why it happened. You couldn’t fathom the idea that you were, yet again, carrying a life inside you. No, it was absurd. Surely Yosano was mistaken, it hadn’t even gone that long since the twins were born and– 

All at once the reality came crashing back down again. You were back on the hard chair, back opposite Yosano and suddenly very aware of every inch of the office. And the continuation of her displeased rant; the way her tone grew louder, annoyance sipped into every syllable. The barely held back curses which evidently played on the tip of her tongue. Yet she tried to look casual, head rested in the palm of her hand, body language open and turned towards you. But the anger was undeniable in the way her second hand gripped the pen, almost snapped it in half and poured the goey black onto a pile of papers- the results that signaled your doom. “ I told the damned bastards to–” 

“ – But I thought you couldn’t get pregnant at least until 18 months have passed after birth” you interrupted her, your voice a fraction away from hysterical. You looked at Yosano expectedly, begging her for the confirmation that this was some weird biological fluke. A mistake that no one of you could have predicted.

You jumped as she slammed her fist against the wooden desk. 

“ Where the hell did you hear that bullshit from?” Yosano took a deep breath, slipped back into her composed doctor mask and did you the courtesy to reply to your questions calmly and professionally “It’s not recommended to get pregnant earlier than 18 months after delivery, to give the body time to heal. However, biologically speaking, there’s nothing preventing you from it once you’ve gotten your period. Some can get pregnant as early as four weeks after.” 

You bit your lips to hold back a curse, and hung your head at your own stupidity. “ But one time..” you mumbled absentmindedly as memories of an unromantic quickie on the same night the pair returned home from their months long mission ran through your mind. A disappointing act that drove a rift in your relationship. That became a silent fight you never openly addressed; just picked up your things and moved into the shoe-sized spare bedroom. Something which neither part of double black seemed to mind. 

If anything you swore your absence in the bedroom brought them relief. 

To your surprise, Yosano rested a comforting hand on your shoulder. “ Sometimes one time is plenty. Now then to break the news-” She moved away from you and began stomping towards the door which separated her office from the rest of the medical bay. And ultimately, the space where your so-called lovers waited with the twins. 

“ No wait!” you cried. In an instant up on your feet, both hands wrapped around Yosano’s arm. Although she was undoubtedly stronger, the action was shocking enough to halt her movements. She turned to face you, surprise edged into her features. But you couldn’t meet her eyes. No, you did not want her to see that the seemingly perfect relationship had been reduced to shambles. A broken thing which had become filled with responsibilities and fear. The thought made your cheeks redden in shame; never ever in your life would you have thought you’d be fearful of your lover's reaction to seemingly joyful news. And even more shamefully, feel the need to make excuses for it in public. 

“ Tell me honestly Y/N” Yosano’s voice was low, the accusation unmistakable. 

“ It’s Dazai’s” You answered in a heartbeat, met her gaze full on with the most earnestness you had ever displayed in your life. “ Undoubtedly his.” 

You dropped your hand from her arm and brought it back to your side, wrapped it protectively around your stomach. You forced your lips up into a smile, hoped it looked innocent yet nervous. Then mellowed out the look in your eyes to the point the blush looked more shy than guilty. “ W-well, you know, Dazai’s been wanting a child of his own since the twins and I.. just want to break the news to him in a special way.” The lie rolled smoothly off your tongue and Yosano seemed to buy it. 

She laughed at you, teased you for the still corny behavior while lightly reminded you this wasn’t your first kid as she sat back down and began going over essential medical information with you. Information you took in with a smile, nodded in appropriate places without really listening. But who could have blamed you? 

Your mind was for once on your side as it formed second by second a feasible plan for you. Not easy, but manageable. Drunk on thought that you, YOU, the innocent little weak dove had gotten away with such a blatant lie gave you the courage you needed to indulge in those thoughts. The thoughts you hadn’t even dared to think of before. Now they felt so close and so real. 

Although, admittedly, the lie you uttered wasn’t a complete lie. Indeed, you intended to make sure he would find out this news in the most unforgettable way possible. 

You just never said the surprise was going to be good… 

Author note: The first part of this chapter is dedicated to each and every person who thought A Hit Beyond Rock Bottom was not heavy /angsty enough and Dazai’s actions weren’t too bad.

The second part is for us who can see that the reader is strong and it's time to see that strengths manifest itself into something useful. Well hope you enjoyed this and until next time~

Click here for: Part 1 , part 2 and part 3 or Check out Raven's masterlist.

©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#desperate times call for desperate measures #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #chuuya x you #dazai x you #skk x reader #new parents #angst #bsd angst #skk parents #raven cincade's works #raven cincaide

[simplydnp]

idk why this matters to me but in the last few months they've been acknowledging so many things I never ever thought they would. pinof and the touching. the phude multiple times. dapc slime (ok they had merch to sell for that one but still)

no but actually. phil literally said 'i thought we weren't acknowledging it' about the phude and now they just bring it up all the time.

pinof reacts... i still can't believe we're in a post pinof-reacts universe. how did that happen. i was changed permanently--like something shuffled in my dna when i got the notif for pinof reacts 1. this is not a physical reaction but a chemical one that cannot be undone. for something that was so... sacred. and integral. to their existence and history. pinof wasn't generally talked about unless it was pinof time. and even then it was 'it'll be up soon' or 'we just posted it' and then Never talked about outside of that. especially not the first one! we freak out about the We Know You Know in the newsletter but it's Always been like that with pinof 1. so to see them--new (& natural 🥺) hair for them both, in a house they bought and built together, in the first few months of giving the gaming channel a second chance--reflect on how it all began? absolutely devastating. and to lean into moments and discuss them in new ways. in territory previously not breached! the 'they're toUching'?!?!? the '11 hour fuck session'!?!? the '£9000 champagne'?!?!? like hey we're not supposed to talk about that, dan and phil might see!! shhh!! but they're the ones saying it!! absolutely wild.

in a way, it had to happen. especially with where we're at now (them literally selling merch of them holding hands). in order for them to move beyond that... mindset? i guess? that a lot of fans had, they had to defang it. i really see it as one of the biggest walls they've broken down in the way they communicate with us. the 'hey. it's okay. we've seen it. it's not a big deal. we will absolutely make fun of you for it though. but we're good.'

i'm just really curious whose idea it was. (lbr it was probably phil given dans not a react kinda guy. but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to be in the room where it happened when they talked about actually doing it or not, and what it would mean) (big ad revenue thats for sure 🤣 get it kings)

i will never be able to get phil's 'they touched' out of my head and at this point i wouldn't want to. it's absolutely earned. and i guess it makes me a masochist to enjoy the psychic damage it inflicts on me, but such is life i suppose.

the crafts mention really surprised me! i had contemplated a few different scenarios in how they'd go about it, and i'll be honest i feel like they could've committed to the bit a little more but they're forgiven. like what about glitchy interstitials! cuts to the merch website. found footage inserted between sections! i recognize they don't want to 'scare' their usual audience wirh sudden cuts to intense/graphic content but my immersionnn. absolutely shattered by 'oh we have new merch now btw'. cmon boys you love to lie to us. say theres merch up but you dont know where it came from. just that we should buy it 👀 or idk, something clever. and i recognize i may sound like a spoilt brat bc i just got a 14 minute long masterpiece of an unexpected dapc revival, but my immersion. i mean i already bought the merch before they shilled it anyways so it didn't influence me regardless 🤣

ultimately we really are in a new era. even beyond just the revival. i think they're really finding their stride--not only in their content (evidenced by a semi-regular schedule) but also creatively, in doing what they want to do, how they want to do it, and truly not giving that much of a fuck anymore. and i'm really happy for them. phil talked a bit about this in his 'rating my icons' video, where he's kind of decided he doesn't care what people on twitter think, and how it's been good for him, and i think we're seeing that reflected in not only his content, but also the gaming channel. they play what they want. they say what they want. and it's just fun. dan going on the record to say he's really enjoying it makes me so happy to hear, because literally december 2022 he believed he'd disappear after WAD. and now, instead, he gets to play games and make stupid jokes and smile and laugh multiple times a week, and he's really happy about it. he gets to be silly and goofy and crude without having to Stress about it. i keep saying it but they're so settled now. and as someone who's followed them through big changes and turbulent times, getting to see them happy after everything... it brings a lot of hope. and i know theyre millionaires. but there's something to looking at someone you fell in love with 15 years ago the same then as you do now. but instead of it being something scary, something you have to hide, something that feels like it can consume you and everything you have--it gets to be something beautiful. and regular. and embraced. you've read this far you get to listen to me wax poetic about them.

we've been thoroughly boiled and maybe, just maybe, it's warming our hearts too.

#thank u for sending this. ive been writing non-stop since it arrived in my inbox #there is nothing i love more than someone pointing me in a direction and saying alright go for it! #i am always only a few moments away from a dnp breakdown and im glad to share this journey with you all #dnp #dan and phil #c.text #answered #phan #<- for the fandometrics #edited tags: holyshit this is a 1k words w/ my tags. jfc. what is Wrong with me. it took less than an hour but idk when u sent it exactly

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 9

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts. wc: 2920

Jason hated Danny, a little. The other had really (accidentally) downplayed the effect the ectoshot would have. Flu like symptoms his ass, Jason felt like his insides were trying to crawl their way to the outside. Danny had apologized profusely and frequently, and Jason had forgiven him. Still, he hated Danny a little for doing this to him. Danny earned a lot of points back, though, by acting as Jason’s personal ice pack through the worst of the fever. Jason spent a lot of hours with his head or chest pressed against Danny’s cold back as he lay, miserable, on the couch with Danny sat on the floor in front of it. It was even nicer when Danny would absently run cold fingers through Jason’s hair and scratch lightly at his scalp. Jason tried not to think about how good that felt. How easy it was to let Danny touch him. He was determined to just blame the fever and ignore how his very bones seemed to hum in pleasure at the contact. Or maybe it was Danny humming. Purring? Fuck this fever, seriously.

So Jason sat close to Danny and Danny spent most of the time doing homework on a laptop that looked one step from death. “Summer classes,” he explained when Jason asked. “I’m trying to get all my gen eds done so that I can double major. Maybe even triple? I don’t know if I want to have spend the time on the language classes a Math major needs.” Jason hummed in response, trying to tuck the information away in his sick ailed brain. He couldn’t decided if he hoped Danny and Tim never met (con, they were both too damn smart), or if he desperately wanted them to meet (pro, Tim would replace all of Danny’s failing tech in a pique of disgust). Maybe the scholarship already came with a new laptop? That sounded like it would be a Tim thing to do, but Jason wasn’t sure how involved Tim was in the scholarships. “Math sucks,” he settled on. | “Sure it does, book boy. I bet you were an English major.” Danny had found Jason’s pile of books early on the second day  and made fun of him. But Danny had also found both ‘Pride and Prejudice’ movies to download and had put them on for Jason to watch. They had spend all day trying to make it through the Colin Firth one as Danny kept pausing it whenever Jason dozed off due to the fever. “Nah. Never even finished high school. Too busy being dead,” Jason mumbled and tried to press closer to the cold. Danny must have done something because the chill increased. Jason let out a content sigh. He was almost asleep when Danny spoke. “You’re not just dead any more. You can still have a life.” “Don’t know if I deserve one.” “Of course you do,” Danny said. Danny didn’t know what Jason had done, the Pit groaned in response. Jason let himself slip asleep rather than deal with either of them.

-

The next time Jason drifted towards consciousness, there was a hand on his forehead. It wasn’t right though. It was familiar, but it wasn’t right. “Too warm.” “You sure are Jaybird. You’re burning up.” Jason jolted up and almost fell right back over as the world swam around him. When it solidified, it settled into a very different pair of worried blue eyes than he was expecting. “Big bird?” But if Dick was here, where was Danny? There was no sign of the other now; no laptop or textbooks or scribbled equations. Too many takeout boxes stacked too messily were the only clue, but Jason figured that could be excused by his sick state. Jason knew that Danny hadn’t been with him the whole time he’d been sick. The other clearly came and went at least a few times to pick up food, his school work, and other supplies. What Jason didn’t know if the timing was just lucky or if Danny had managed to disappear before Dick had made it past all the safeguards. He hoped Danny wasn’t stuck hiding in a closet or something. “What?” Jason asked. Dick had been saying something to him, but Jason hasn’t caught a word of it. He rubbed at his eyes to try and focus. “Did you get dosed?” “Does? No. Just the stupid flu or something,” Jason lied. “Why are you here?” “Because you didn’t show up for patrol for a few days in a row, little bird,” Dick said softly. He brushed Jason’s sweat soaked hair off his forehead. Jason swayed into the touch. Not even two days of finally being touched apparently was all it took to lose his self control. At least Dick wasn’t shying away from him right then. Not like he normally did. Right, his brother had said something. “That made you break into my place? You know that was fucking stupid. What if I’d been…” Jason trailed off and motioned to his eyes. What if he’d been in a Pit rage. “You don’t drop off from everything like this when you are. We were worried,” Dick said. He sounded worried, but Jason didn’t feel like he could figure out if it was real right then, not with his head so full of cotton. Maybe it was. This was Dick, he seemed to care. Of course, then Dick had to go and add, “You should have checked in.” Jason snorted at that. “Not for patrol reasons,” Dick said, rolling his eyes. “So that we didn’t worry, little bird. And so that I could have brought some soup from Alfred.” “Mmm… yeah, would have been worth it for the soup,” Jason decided after a moment. “Most things are worth Alfred’s soup,” Dick agreed with a chuckle. “But no, you had to be stubborn and not let us know you were sick so there’s no soup for you.” “Shut up,” Jason grumbled with no real heat. He tried to let himself fall back onto the couch but was stopped by Dick pulling him forward. “Nu-uh. We’re going to get you up and into the shower. You’ll feel better in clean clothes and I can change the blankets on the couch and get these through the wash.” “No.” “Yes,” Dick said in a sing-song voice that made Jason want to punch him. Instead he let Dick help him off the couch. Now that it had been mentioned, a shower really did sound good. He was left propped up against the door frame of the bathroom while Dick got the shower started. The sound of the water was almost soothing, and Jason eyes drifted closed. Normally the Pit would be snarling at him to stay alert— to stay focused and on guard— even (especially) in the presence of his family, but it seemed as drained by the ectoshot as he was and stayed quiet. “Jay?” “Hum?” “Do I need to get you to a hospital?” Jason pried his eyes open to glare at his brother. When had Dick gotten so close? He hovered just in front of Jason like if he wanted to reach out and pull Jason close. Shit, Dick really was worried, wasn’t he? “It’s just the stupid flu or something.” “I don’t know, you’re really out of it, Jay. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you with your guard like this.” “’S fine,” Jason said and let his eyes close again. “You’re here. I’m safe.” “Okay little bird,” Dick said softly and started to help Jason out of his sweat soaked shirt. “Let me take care of you.”

-

Dick helped peel off Jason’s shirt and tossed it on the floor. This wasn’t his first time undressing and shoving one of his family members into the shower. Being a vigilante left no room for modesty between the mortal wounds, medical procedures, and decontamination processes. It was easy to be clinical about it at this point. Besides, his mind was too busy reeling over Jason’s words. Jason felt safe with him. Jason, who even when he was sitting right next to them, still held them at arm’s length. Who Dick wasn’t sure would even show up at the few family meals he did attended if it weren’t for Alfred’s cooking. Who struggled to share any details about a case. Who didn’t ask for help when he was this sick… … felt safe with him. Dick had to bite his lip to keep the tears from welling up. He hadn’t thought Jason would ever trust him again, not really. He hadn’t been sure if he’d ever really have his brother back. He didn’t even need— want— Jason back in a creepy ‘just like he was before’ sort of way. Dick knew that was impossible. Jason dying had changed them all. Him coming back had changed them again. Jason had talked to Dick about it once, just a little. They had both been drunk— Jason more than Dick— and Jason had talked. He had talked like the words were spilling out of him, bleeding out of him; a soft steady flow of horror. There in the dim light of Dick’s apartment Jason had talked, just a little, about what it was like to live with the Pit rage in him. How it was like a rabid dog on a leash that was barking, barking barking. Dick didn’t know how someone even thought over that noise, but he was so damn proud of Jason for managing. He was so damn proud of Jason for clawing his way back to life— out of his grave and out of his madness and out of his rage. He didn’t want the old Jason back. He just wanted a chance to get to be a brother to this Jason. He was so damn proud of the man he’d become. His eyes ran over the horrible autopsy scars that crossed Jason’s chest. The stark reminder of exactly why Dick hadn’t been sure they’d ever really have Jason back. Jason, when he had to change around them, always did it as quickly as possible. But right then the scars were on full display. Because Jason was trusting Dick to see them. Dick tried hard not to think too much about it. Jason needed his help right then. He could deal with the mental fallout later. With some wrangling, Dick got Jason into the shower. After getting fresh clothing, he took a seat on the closed toilet, flicking through his phone from somewhere to order food from. He wanted to be close by in case Jason lost his balance in the shower. “Is Ben’s good for pizza?” “What?” At least Jason was sounding a little more clear headed. “Ben’s. I’m ordering food.” “Yeah. Get a supreme. The chicken bbq one is good too.” “Got it.” Dick selected the pizzas, added maybe too much garlic bread to the order, and submitted it. Then he pulled up the family chat. The one that Jason still refused to be part of. Dick: So Jason’s running a pretty bad fever. He thinks it’s the flu. Oracle: He’s actually staying home and not patrolling when he’s sick? Tim: Shit. It’s that bad? Dick: He’s pretty out of it. Shower seems to be helping and I’m ordering food. I’m going to stay the night here unless you need me on patrol. Bruce: We’ll rearrange patrols. Keep an eye on him. Dick: Will do. He wasn’t going to let Jason down again.

-

When Jason woke on day four, he felt good. He wasn’t perfect, he knew that. Danny had said it would take at least a few infusions— maybe several if his core took to it badly. He might never be without lingering effects. But even with just the one shot of ectoplasm Jason felt better than he had in years. Jason let himself linger in bed for a bit, slowly stretching out his sore muscles, before sounds from his kitchen made him stir. The press of otherness was back, so Jason assume that Danny was back. His arrival still made Jason shudder with a chill of cold. It wasn’t as overwhelming as it used to be, but there was never any doubt when Danny was around. Yesterday Dick had hardly left his He’d convinced Dick that he would be fine for the day and that he should go to work. Dick had still insisted on waking Jason up in the morning before he headed out, but Jason had rolled over and went back to sleep. And now Danny was back. The sound of something clattering, followed by cursing, had Jason finally rolling out of bed and heading to the kitchen. He half debated at least pulling on a shirt over his sleep pants, but the cursing had turned rather fevered. Besides, he didn’t think that Danny would be bothered by his scarring. He had to stop in the doorway to the kitchen and just stare. Smoke hung in the air. Danny was right in the middle of it— holding an ice covered frying pan out at arms length. Jason was pretty sure the tips of Danny’s bangs were singed. Jason was smirking. He knew he was. He really couldn’t help it. “I can see why you always bought food these last few days.” Danny whirled to face him, blue eyes wide. He made a cut off little noise and flushed bright red. Chuckling, Jason stepped into to the space— the kitchen was hardly big enough for two people— and reached around Danny to turn the burner off. Danny’s arm was cold as he brushed against it. When Jason pulled back and Danny was still just staring at him and had grown redder. “You good there, fish?” “Um, what? Oh!” Danny finally blinked. The blush went right to the tips of his ears. “Right, yeah? But, um, I don’t think that the eggs are okay.” “Don’t know if my frying pan is either,” Jason said, eying the frozen hunk of metal. “Sorry,” Danny said with a wince and dumped it in the sink. He waved his hand and let the ice melt. Scorched eggs washed down the sink. “How did you burn them so badly?" Jason asked. He was actually a little impressed. “I never learned to cook, okay? We didn’t really cook at my house so I’m having to pick up all of it now,” Danny said with a little shrug. “It’s, ah, not going so well.” “Neither of your parents chefs?” “Too much ambient ectoplasm,” Danny said as he tried to scrub at the charred pan. Jason didn’t think it would do any good. “When the casserole tries to eat you back one too many times you sort of give up on eating at home.” “What.” “Reanimated food. They’re always bastards. I have scars from the hot dogs still,” Danny said and also gave up on the pan and turned around to lean against the counter. “…I have so many questions and I don’t know if I want answers.” Danny shrugged again. He picked at the ends of the hoodie he was wearing, unraveling the ragged edge further. “You probably don’t. So, um, I was in the right to leave the other night, right?” “Yeah. It was my brother checking up on me. I don’t think I’m ready to explain all of this,” Jason said, giving a little wave of his hand to indicated everything as he leaned against the counter next to Danny. Danny glanced at him, his eyes flickering over the chest scars and back up. “They do know you died, right?” “Sorta hard to miss,” Jason said, crossing his arms. “But they think the Pits brought me back. We all did. Not that…” “It’s different, knowing you’re still dead,” Danny filled in where Jason trailed off. “Yeah. I’ll tell them later, maybe, but I want things to settle more. Shit, wait, am I going to get powers like you have? Then I’ll have to, I guess. It would hard to hide magical ice.” “Oh, you probably wont get ice. There are lots of difference cores. There’s all the elemental ones, fire and electricity and things, but also like, technology and shadow and a the Ancients can have really unique ones like time and hope. We won’t know what yours is until we get rid of the corrupted goop and you have enough ectoplasm.” “Huh,” Jason said with a frown. “So more ectoshots?” “More ectoshots. But we’ll give you a few weeks in between so you can recover. I’ve got to get myself moved to Gotham anyways, and I don’t really think you should take any of it if I’m not around, just in case your powers do develop.” “Yeah, alright,” Jason said, brain already working on how to hide all of this from the Bats. He was just starting to get things back to better with them. He didn’t want to throw ‘hey, turns out I’m still a little dead’ into the mix. He didn’t want to see the looks on their faces at that news. He didn’t want to break anyone’s heart again. He didn’t want to lose them again. Jason cleared his throat. “Well, guess I better give you my number then. Not that I don’t know when you’re around, but would be shit of you to have to come all this way just to check on me. How do you keep  getting back and forth, anyways?” “Oh, sometimes I use a portal but mostly I just fly.” “You what?”

-----

AN: So this chapter was originally a single scene, but it decided it really needed more time. Then Dick decided to show up. I’ve gone back and forth about showing a POV other than Jason or Danny, but Jason is such an unreliable narrator about himself and Danny doesn’t know how Jason used to be, and I wanted to be able to show that. So Dick will show up a few times! He’s mostly here to have feelings.

And yes, Danny was totally bluescrened by shirtless Jason there at the end! I debated the POV for that, but thought it was funner that Jason has no clue why Danny is blushing like a tomato.

This is rough in places, I know, but my focus has been shot by pain. Besides, cleaning it up is what rewrites are for! Speaking of, rewrite of chapter 3 will be up on ao3 Thursday! Thank you all always for your wonderful response to this and stay delightful, darlings!

Tag Cult, as it has lovinly(?) been called: @fisticuffsatapplebees | @thegatorsgoose | @wolfeyedwitch | @lazy-bouqet | @confusedandghostly | @glomsk | @kailithiel | @bahfev | @d4ydr34min9 | @claudiashq | @someonebored0100 | @pastalavistamf | @samgirl98 | @angelheartgamer | @lehana37 | @spiteismymiddlename | @rosecinnamonbun | @demon-cat-goes-woof | @violet-catsarelife | @trickerdi | @avelnfear | @undead-essence | @basilf1res | @amillionandonefandoms | @stealingyourbones | @sarcastic-yami | @bun-fish | @aconitewolfsbane | @dontfightmecauseillcry | @omgnectarina | @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff | @the-blind-one-speaks | @mimilikey | @wolfe-marvin | @learning-to-fly-on-my-own | @multplelifes | @yurijay | @trickerdi | @bae-graphomaniac | @jeffeniney | @fan4rt1st | @weirdestarrow | @wolfjackle | @allulily | @onyxlightdragon | @zotinha456 | @wwwwyamd | @river9noble | @starscreamlover | @michealawithana | @robinmedea | @spideypoolalways | @jesus-camp-the-sequel | @persephoneblackrose | @clorophorm-frog | @f4nd0m-fun | @mady-is-ace-trash | @ascetic-orange | @renwilson | @ace-aro-as-shit | @rangerhorsetug | @thatrandomsarahchick | @holygoldfish | @mlpizza | @chrysanthemum9484 | @justwannaseesomebrozawa | @newgraywolf | @crazylittlemunchkin | @fire-glass​ | @eonic | @autumnrosnor | @the-nerdy-fangirl | @faithblob-says-things | @aisec-phantom | @a-star-with-a-human-name | @winged-scaly-attic-dweller​ | @mistermetalmaker | @apersond | @mustachebatschaos | @goadinggods | @joaniejustwokeup | @that-dumbass-on-a-horse | @plainly-colorful​ | @blackcatsandhaunteddolls | @booklover223 | @alice-hazelwood | @answrs | @enbydemirainbowbigfoot | @felicityroth | @wanderingrutabaga | @seraphinedemort | @write-it-right-2 | @decisively-o-indecisive | @my-mom-calls-me-rat | @01101010-01100001-01111001 | @arc-777 | @crystalice067 | @phoenixdemonqueen | @icedbluesoul  | @itsparadoxlacuna | @wisp-wishes | @spikedlynx | @redhoneysugarorange | @blu-lilac | @russetfur1128 | @mutable-manifestation | @stargirl1331 | @salembloodsong | @chaoticchange | @living-on-borrowed-time | @orshie | @britcision | @littlefeather345 | @sunflowershine03 | @aro-acedumbass | @thefanficcup | @shibanoh | @blackcatsandhaunteddolls | @racoonmcg |@ashoutinthedarkness | @icefirecrystal | @thatonejumbledmess | @cy-ella | @dolfay | @kobol1​ | @skjiasett | @metal-sporks | @tired-yet-awaken | @currant-owo | @firegirl108 | @stupidlovepurplepeace | @drowningroane | @imagineshazamlokimight | @immakittybear | @justalittletotheleftofnormal | @akikoyuii | @chrysanthemum9484 | @kawaiikenna | @imaginationmademanifest | @wisebouquettree | @a-salty-sal  | @mentalcarebear | @mj-arts-n-stuff​ | @thescarletcryptid | @xysidhe​ | @cottonscrambles​ | @manapeer​ | @yjfk​ | @ryisc​ | @666deaddash999​ | @nutcase8691​ | @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit​ | @yumeyoruppr | @latheevening226 | @dr-syko-pharm-4​ | @i-have-opinion​ |

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #dick grayson #dead on main #danny fenton/jason todd #like betta fish do

[mncein]

pls do newjeans reaction / headcanon where their s/o and then previously had an argument and their s/o got injured badly?

okay !! but the injuries are not that brutal hehe, once again sleeping late to fulfill your requests. doing this on my tablet is hard bro tumblr doesn't stretch to the screen, BUT is fun bc i'm listening to music <3

new jeans masterlist | main masterlist

MINJI —

why did this even happen? minji asks herself, she's currently tending your cut on your palm. an argument between you happened earlier before dinner, she's supposed to get the ingredients at a nearby store, but instead she comes home holding two bags of chips and coke. was that the reason why she was all smiley before going off?

earlier...

"minji! what the hell did you buy?!" you say as you stood by the kitchen, eyeing the bags full of chips and bevarages and no sign of the ingredients you asked her to buy.

"you said buy something for tonight?" she asks back, putting down the bags and hanging her jacket.

"no. i said, ingredients for dinner tonight!" you reply, there's no way you'll be having what she bought.

"whatever, you're going to eat those for dinner and don't even dare to ask me for some of what i cooked." you pointed your index finger at her before walking off to cook.

now...

"you're so dumb sometimes." minji states while she wraps gauze around your palm. you glare at her.

"says the one who bought chips." you roll your eyes, then watching her take care of you wound with a small blush on your face, she looked so focused...

"hey- i only misheard." minji argues back, slapping your injured hand, seemingly forgotten that it's wounded.

"ow! what the heck?!" you retract your hand from minji, glaring at her while you soothe your poor hand.

"i'm sorry! i forgot." minji sighs.

"now look who's dumb." you laugh.

"oh, now look who can't cook." minji fought back and laughs as well.

"i'm not eating your chips." you roll your eyes.

"but you have nothing to eat." minji replies.

"then cook for me, idiot." she sighs and nodded in defeat, you smile and kissed her, now she's forgiven.

HANNI —

you both had an argument about her clean clothes and laundry. you thought the clothes on her bed were dirty and put them in the laundry, and it was unknown to you that she's going to use them later on their shoot of new jeans zine.

earlier...

"where are my clothes on the bed?" hanni asks, entering the living room where you are.

"oh, i put them in the laundry." you reply, looking up from your phone.

she groans and puts her hand on her head with a frustrated look on her face. "why would you put them in the laundry?!"

"i-i thought it's used and dirty.."

"why wouldn't you ask-!? ugh, forget about it." she walks out before you could speak, you sigh. well it's also her fault for putting them in the bed so messy.

now...

"are you okay?" hanni asks for about 30 times now, you lay on the couch clutching your side which has a big bruise.

good thing you haven't set the pile of laundry that has hanni's clothes in, rushing to get it, there was a piece of your clothing on the ground and you slipped because of it. landing on your side, you groan in pain and the next thing you see is hanni rushing to you with a worried face.

"yes, i'm fine now hanni, thank you for asking." after you said that, your side aches and you clutch it in pain, another reason for hann to be worried again. she slaps your hand away and lifted your clothes up to check your side, gasping when she saw a big purple bruise.

following her eyes, you gasp as well. "do you think it's a broke bone?" you ask, getting scared now, you're definitely not okay. she sighs in relief when she just misread tha date today and there was no filming, she has to take you to the hospital now.

DANIELLE —

she never starts the argument, she gets scolds by you, it was raining outside and the girl decided to shine her light outside and play outside like a little kid. but you said something that really hurt her. rushing to her room, you follow behind, saying a lot of sorrys.

SLAM-! THUD!

you fell down, holding your head after you groan in pain. danielle didn't know you were, that, close to her door and she accidentally slammed it too hard.

"are you okay?! i'm sorry.." she asks multiple times, her hands fly everywhere, not knowing what to do.

she hugs your head, but every minute passes, the bruise forming on your forehead gets worse. danielle panics once more, reaching for your hand and helps you stand up, leading you to the kitchen.

danielle took some ice from the refrigerator and wrapped them around her precious handkerchief and held it against your bruise gently, she was so worried but at the same time guilty.

"i'm so sorry... i didn't mean too..." she whispers, her lips quivering. you look up to her with a small smile through the pain.

"it's okay, i'm sorry too, baby." you held her hand, took the ice and aid yourself. before she can reply, she sneezes, you sigh.

"i told you not to go outside, it's raining." you chuckled and ruffled her damp hair.

"but it's nothing compared to your bruise..." she sniffles, pouting.

"it's okay, really. i just don't want you sick." you hug her, and you both watched as the rain falls outside your kitchen window.

HAERIN —

you sat on the floor, checking your wounded knee, she stood in front of you in silence. you bleed from the cut on your knee, because you were following after haerin as she walks to her room to avoid the argument. but while you do so, a sharp edge of an object wounded your knee.

haerin stood there is shock, not knowing what to do, shaky eyes stare at the blood dripping from your leg. her unsteady legs kneels down beside you.

"i'm sorry.." she silently says, looking at you from the side. she's apologising even if it's not her fault? poor girl.

"no, no, don't apologise. it's not your fault." you reassure, holding her hand tightly as you endure the pain.

"i-if i didn't try to go back. you wouldn't have gotten injured." she mumbles, looking at your knee and back to you.

"no, haerin, it's fine. i can just bandage it up." you struggled to stand up, but a pair of hands helps you up to the kitchen.

"look, i'm sorry for what i've said earlier. i know you were tired." you spoke, caressing haerin's cheek with a weak smile. besides it's better to have a cut than continue the argument and you'll hurt haerin more. seeing her cry hurts more than a wound.

haerin nods, "it's okay... but let's worry about your wound? yeah?" she made you sit down as she kneels to bandage your knee.

feeling so guilty and thinking you got this wound because of her, even if it's not, she can't help but feel that way :( like minji, she's very focused on aiding you, but winces when she presses too hard that your wound gushes out blood. so sad about it, her eyes won't even leave it for a few seconds. very careful about it, reminding you not to put too much pressure on your knee :(

HYEIN —

earlier...

again, you scold her for the 3rd time of the day, was very picky about her food and acts very dramatic. telling you that she doesn't want to eat anymore and storms to her room. sighing, but still, you went to the kitchen to cook some food for you and her later, just incase she gets hungry. plus you won't let her starve because of a stupid argument. knocking on her door for a few times, asking what she wants, she just tells you to go because she'll just order her own food.

now...

she finally exits her room with her phone in hand, ignoring you on the living room while she pays and takes the food she ordered. placing it down the coffee table, she noticed that you're wrapping gauze around your three fingers. her face turning into a worry mess.

"what happened?" she quickly sits down beside you, takes your hand and helped you with the gauze. glancing up at you, you were avoiding her eyes.

"i got cut, while cooking." your face flushes in embarrassment, after being so professional and bragging about your cooking skills, you got cut? eh, it's part of the cooking life anyways. hyein lets out a breathy chuckle, cupping your cheek.

"don't be embarrassed, it's okay. i just ordered food for us, you don't have to worry about anything related to food." hyein pats your palm, indicating she was done with the bandaging. she motioned to the bag of food on the coffee table, handing yours and taking her own. it's good to see her happy again, and not so mean, like earlier.

p/s : laziness season done! i'm terribly sorry for the wait anon :( i had to do so many chores around the house, weather updates, and it's raining heavily here 😭 anyways, hope you enjoy !!

#kpop #new jeans #new jeans x reader #new jeans imagines #minji x reader #hanni x reader #danielle x reader #haerin x reader #hyein x reader #cein's new jeans #cein's anon requests

[lauvgoods]

hey queen could i request a little angsty rafe x reader inspired by the alcott by the national featuring taylor swift

the alcott / rafe cameron

SUMMARY : rafe has a bad habit of ruining the good parts of his life, including you, but you just can't seem to walk away

PARTNERING : rafe cameron x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : 3916

GENRE : angst , open-ended

WARNINGS : unhealthy relationship, drugs and alcohol, a few swear words, one brief mention of sex

A/N : first request! this ran a little longer and angstier than i'd expected, but i really hope i was able to do this justice and give you what you wanted! i also hope you're okay with it being so open-ended

𐙚₊˚⊹ 🦢 “it’s been a long time, but I really need to get some things off of my chest. mind meeting me at the country club? our spot?”

the text is brief, to the point. you wouldn’t expect much more from rafe given that it’s, well, rafe, but it caught you off guard nonetheless. the distance between the two of you has only grown after everything went down, after what he had done, and honestly he didn’t expect you to respond, much less agree to seeing him. then again, you always seemed to be the only one to see the best in him even if he knew he didn’t deserve it. you’d always–almost always forgiven him no matter how horrible he could act. 

rafe is wringing his hands, sitting in his car, trying to convince himself that this will be alright, though he knows that it’s just you at the end of the day. just you? he internally scoffs at his own thoughts. it has never been just you. the one person who truly made him feel alive, like he was a person outside of his mistakes. what was it you had always told him? “you are more than the worst parts of yourself.” you’d never thought of him as a lost cause, not once, but here he is thinking about how best to go about asking for your forgiveness yet again. 

two years of knowing each other, of loving each other, and yet it had all gone to shit. as usual, he knew, all because of himself. 

there’s a pool shack just near the main building, the one where he’d first spotted you, where you’d peaked his interest. rather than out getting a tan or swimming, you were sat in the corner of the building, a fancy little golden notebook propped up against your knees. it was cooler inside, so half of him couldn’t blame you, but he guesses it was that notebook that had caught his attention. a journal, diary, he didn’t much care at the time, but when he sees you in that exact same spot, with the exact same notebook, the biggest sense of deja vu washes over him. he’s stuck there, staring at you, watching you with that pen probably writing in the nicest handwriting you can. you haven’t noticed him just yet, and that’s how he knows that whatever it is, it’s captured your attention and pulled you into a little bubble like always. he isn’t stupid, though, he’s seen it on your socials, you leaning against someone else in pictures, smiling like how you did at the start of your relationship. not like the end, where everything was clear by the dimmed light in your eyes, smile not reaching them in the way he loved. he knows what you’re writing about—or rather who. 

after a few minutes of admittedly creepy staring from him, you feel that prickling on the back of your neck, that itch of eyes watching, and look up to see him. he looks different, cleaner, more alive than he had before, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s a familiar ache in your chest, a bittersweet taste on your tongue, before the corners of your lips turn up into a warm smile. rafe just stares for a moment, taking you in. you look the same, but that light has come back, and that brings him more grief than you’ll know for the conversation he has in mind. 

a couple of steps forward, and he’s sitting across from you. the sunlight coming in through the window washes you both in its warmth, melting the awkward feelings that might have otherwise arisen. there’s this look on his face, one that you know all too well. his jaw is locked tight, hands clenched into fists, and he’s avoiding your eyes. he hopes that you’ll still believe him this time when he talks, but he wouldn’t be shocked if you didn’t. he half expects you to walk out before he can get a word out, a sickly smirk on your face as you taunt him for ever thinking he could get a positive reaction out of you after it all. 

“i’m sorry.” 

it’s clear the words take effort to get out, and your eyes widen as they hit you. you can’t recall the last time he apologized, genuinely apologized. not something half-assed just to move on from another fight so you can fall back into an old routine again. kissing, falling back into bed with one another, walking on eggshells, the party, the inevitable fight, another fake apology. it was a cycle, an awful cycle that you wouldn’t dare break for fear of losing him. the truth, though, was that you’d lost him a long time ago. 

you can read him like an open book, like an instruction manual leading you to all his deepest darkest feelings that he wouldn’t dare let anyone catch a glimpse of. there’s fear, and you hate the way your heart inevitably softens at it all. you don’t reply though, placing your pen between the pages and setting it carefully on the table separating the two of you. you wait, looking directly at where his eyes would meet yours if they weren’t so carefully looking just above at your forehead. he never was good at confrontation, not heavy ones like these anyway. anger he could deal with. you’ve lost count of the number of times he’d punched a wall, or slammed a door, all out of pure rage. guilt is something he’s been quick to bury, whether under layers of other emotions or less-than-healthy outlets. 

“i hurt you, i know that. i did a lot of things i’m not proud of. i’ve–” he cuts himself off with a harsh sigh, tightly clenching his fist. words or conversations like these have never been his biggest strength. “i ruined what we had. the coke, the drinking, the fighting, and then the way i broke it all off, i never should have treated you that way.” 

“rafe, can we please go home? it’s late and you’ve had a lot to drink and i just think you should cut yourself off for the night.”

it wasn’t the first time you’d asked him that night. as a matter of fact, it was the third. still, he looked up at you with an expression that left you feeling small and insignificant in a way that can’t be described. here you were again, killing his high and, as he would probably be saying later, ruining his night as always. you knew, though, that he didn’t really mean any of it. in the morning he’d wake up beside you, pressing kisses to your cheek and apologizing for how he’d acted, saying he would try to get better, for you. 

tears filled your eyes, yet you held your tongue, knowing that angering him during a high would never be a good idea. you weren’t scared of him, knowing he would never lay a hand on you, but his shouting was almost worse than any physical blows. his words lingered in the back of your mind. 

“rafe, you know how much i hate these parties. you always end up high out of your mind and leaving off on my own to hang out with your friends. can’t we just stay in tonight?” you’d asked, eyes pleading while he turned off the ignition. 

he let your worries roll off of his back like water, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it with that boyish grin you loved. “c’mon, i promise i’ll stick with you this time. promise it’ll just be a few drinks and then we can head back, ‘kay?”

promises, promises, promises. all empty even if he didn’t know it while making them. the moment he’d had two drinks, he had his eyes zeroed in on the table in the corner, and was off before you even knew he’d gone. you stood there in the kitchen, turning in circles, standing on the tips of your toes to try and spot him out among the crowd of partygoers. he’d left you again, and it took you nearly half an hour to find him. of course, the lines of white powder lined up and a rolled dollar bill clasped between his fingers. his pupils were already blown, that dazed look in his eye, and he smiled stupidly at you before waving you over. 

“c’mere, i want you to try this time.”

that one moment would come up in more fights than either of you could have known. 

you never did a single line, walking out on the party the moment he’d started getting annoyed at your lack of interest in the drugs, having a screaming match that same night, and it was one of the first times you saw him cry. fists pressed into his face, crouched down to his knees as he tried to regain some control over his emotions. there wasn’t much rafe didn’t tell you, especially regarding his situation with ward. his father had always been awful to him, never making him feel wanted. you knew that beneath that tough, hardened exterior was a boy who had been left on his own, neglected and never truly loved in the way he deserved. 

“every time i tried to tell you to hold back, to reel it all in, you’d look at me like i was an idiot, rafe. Like i was horrible for wanting to help you. you didn’t just hurt me rafe, you shattered me. you made promise after promise and then broke it all in the same night. it’s like you looked right into my mind, figured out the absolute last thing i wanted you to do, and just immediately went and did it.”

the smile is gone, the warmth from the sun fueling the sudden surge of emotions. your throat feels tight as you finally speak, memories pulling free from that little wall you’d put up, trying so hard to forget it all. to move on. that small ache in your chest seems to have burst, tearing at everything it reaches. there’s a burning in your eyes, but you blink fast in an effort to keep it all in. once that dam breaks, you know it’ll come out all at once and ruin any composure you have. 

rafe feels that spark of guilt erupt into a blaze, and despite the heat outside the cold pricks like needles at his skin. he’s already caught on to that uptick in your breathing, the way your knee bounces under the table even though he can’t fully see it. there’s a slight shake to your fingers that breaks his heart all over again. he’s painfully aware of it. 

everyone had warned you about dating rafe, how he’d only hurt you, keep you as another notch on his belt before going on to the next poor girl. despite the worries lingering in the back of your mind, you simply couldn’t attach that description to the same man you knew. the one that would ask to stay over, fall asleep with his head on your lap, the way he’d look at you like you were the sun. falling for him was like breathing, but when you hit the ground it nearly broke you. 

“i know i lied, and you deserved better than me. honestly, i wish you’d walked away just so you’d be less hurt in the end.” there’s a strained tone dripping off of his every word, rafe’s eyebrows knitting together while his eyes bore holes into the table. “god, i ruined everything.”

your bottom lip quivers, and you know that you’re done for. your vision is already going blurry, and any breath you take feels like it’s coming through a straw. 

“you ever think that you’re my problem? huh? maybe it’s you, not me. you’re always weighing me down, fucking nagging me for attention instead of going out and doing the things i wanna do. i just wanted a girlfriend that would be there for me, you know? listen to me and not try to drag me down. you hear me? you’re suffocating me!”

the words shouted at you as rafe paced back and forth across the empty parking lot were just that. words. he’d wake up in the morning no longer coked out or angry, but even this was a new low for him. as much as you tried to hide them, the tears spilled over. he didn’t really mean it, you knew that. you knew he had trouble controlling his anger, losing his grip, that he would beg you with tears in his eyes to forgive him. but it hurt. the mornings waking up, your body sore from crying yourself out until you were dehydrated and weak, then covering your puffy and red eyes with anything you could just to make him feel less guilty, knowing he didn’t actually believe the things he said. these moments, though, made you feel like a speck. a tiny speck but yet also the most enormous burden to him. you loved him so much it was killing you, had been killing you for longer than you realized.

“you even sound like my sister! ‘rafe, what’s wrong with you?’ ‘rafe, stop it!’ which side are you even on? why don’t you go ahead and hang out with her and all her shitty friends if you wanna say that shit?”

why couldn’t he ever make it easy on you, not even this one time? he’d taken everything you ever loved and blown it all up like a goddamn landmine, stepping on all the good memories that you had of him and forever tainting any other parts of your life when looking back on what your life had been like when you were dating him. you’d given all of yourself over to helping him, to trying to get him to see himself like you did. now when you try to focus on who you’d been back then, all you can remember is what stage with him you were in. that one time you had tried to spend christmas with your family? all you can think about now is how worried you were that he might be out partying and could overdose instead of truly enjoying your time together. 

your entire life had been completely focused both on loving him and on making sure he didn’t completely ruin his. 

“did you mean any of it?”

your voice sounds less like yourself with the way you’re having to hold it all in. it’s then, hearing you, that he finally looks you in the eye. tears are brimming in your eyes, droplets hanging onto the lashes before finally dripping down onto your shirt. your face has grown flushed, your throat painfully dry and constricted. 

“didn’t mean anything i said when i was high or drunk off my ass. you were never the problem, that was all me.” he sounds earnest as he speaks, and you can tell from the way he’s rubbing his hands against his pants that it’s getting to him just as much as it is you. “i was so focused on getting my next fix, but i promise you you were everything to me.”

that’s when the dam starts to crack, the tears flowing freely down your face, starting that itchy feeling on your neck as you try to wipe them with the back of your hands. 

“did i do any good?” your voice is wavering, on the edge of a full-blown sob. “loving you? did i help you any at all while we were together?”

rafe was laid out on the bed, the alcohol having long since gotten him drowsy. he didn’t get high this time, which was likely what had saved you from another fight. you simply didn’t have the energy. looking into the bathroom mirror, you were a ghost of the girl you’d been when you first started dating him. it was valentine’s day, he had made plans for a date and you’d even bought a new dress to wear out to eat. but, of course, rafe had gotten into a bottle of wine, claiming it to be the more romantic decision to start out the evening. the night had gone sour the moment he pulled the two glasses from the overhead cabinet and poured himself a generous amount. 

it was three glasses later for him–you hadn’t had a sip of yours–when he’d stumbled and knocked the entire glass down the front of your dress. 

“i’m so, so sorry, i didn’t mean to i just tripped.”

it was with tears in your eyes that you reassured him you weren’t upset, that you didn’t feel like dinner anyway. what rafe also neglected to realize was how far past the time of the dinner reservations it was. holding back another crying session, you led him up to bed where he promptly flopped down on top of it all. 

standing over the sink, still in your ruined evening gown, tears left tracks in your makeup, mascara running as your shoulders shook, yet you held in any noise for fear of making him feel guilty. every time, you reminded yourself of how kind and good he could be. you told yourself that you knew the person beneath all of this, that you knew that he had so much potential to be better, he just really needed to try and for it to stick. 

“you were the best thing i’ve ever had.”

rafe’s eyes are red, eyes glassy with tears, and you can tell he’s holding it all in. 

“you saw the best in me when no one else did. you didn’t just see a screw-up, a druggie, a disappointment, or a hopeless cause. you just saw me.” 

it’s on that last word that his voice breaks, and the gasp that he sucks in splinters any resolve you have left. you’ve never had the strongest will to walk away, only doing so after he destroyed it all. 

but rafe knew that he was poisoning you, could tell even if he refused to admit it to himself. he’d heard you crying sometimes, seen you through video calls with those puffy eyes, could see the way he was the one sucking the life out of you day by day. rather than trying to fix it or talk to you, or even get real help, he did what he does best. he self-destructed. 

that night, when he’d been calling you the problem in the middle of that empty parking lot, that was where he blew it all up. 

“i can’t do this anymore.”

red-eyed and frozen in place, you looked up at him, feeling like all the air had been sucked from your lungs. you were choking on it. he’d gone ranting and raving, had raised his voice, but never even came close to ending things. 

“rafe, no, you don’t mean that. you can’t-”

you’d started toward him, hoping that you could embrace him, console him, and things would be alright. it was a curse, the worst kind of curse, yet one that you loved because it was him. you loved him with every single part of yourself even if that meant breaking yourself to save him even in the slightest. he, however, put up his arms in front of himself and took a step back, shaking his head. 

“no, i’m done. we’re done. i don’t want to do this anymore with you, ‘cause i know all you want is to fix me. you don’t care about me for me, this is who i am. i go out and i party and i have the time of my life. it’s clear you can’t handle that.”

your breaths came out short, harsh, trying to backpedal and get him to see reason, more panicked than he’d ever heard you. “ro, rafe i promise you i can, i’m so sorry if i made you feel like i don’t really care about you. we can work on this if you just-”

“STOP!”

you were on the verge of sobbing at this point, unable to figure out where it had taken such a turn for the worst possible end. had you thought about walking away? more than once, but you rationalized that you couldn’t leave him like this. 

and he left. he walked away, back into the house party that you drove him to, claiming that topper or somebody else could take him home. he left you there, crumbling into absolutely nothing with the worst pain you’d felt in your entire life, like something in your chest was ripping apart, holding back screams. 

“i need you to help me forget you, rafe, ‘cause i can’t just go on like this.”

your hands come up to hold yourself, rubbing up and down your arms as you cry in front of the boy you loved. you want more than anything to hate him, to be able to just scream at him or tell him how much of you he’d taken. you’ve been trying to build yourself back up, trying to fix that hole in your chest. two years doesn’t just disappear in a few months. loving someone in that way leaves its mark on you, sticks to you like a second skin, comes back when you think you’re finally starting to be okay again and devastates you. it leaves you walking around as a ghost, all this love and no one to give it to because the person you hold in your heart is gone. 

the problem for rafe is, he doesn’t want to forget. he knows he can’t, that in him is that love that he’s tried so hard to bury for both of your sakes, that anything he wants will just ruin any chance of what you’re trying to achieve all over again. 

“i’m trying to get clean,” he says instead, taking in a stuttered breath. “about two months now, 'cause i know how much you hated it.”

the both of you know it, how no matter how hard you try it’s nearly impossible to walk away. it would be better for everyone, healthier for everyone. you can get with that person you’ve been posting, he can find someone that makes him happy without flashing back to every fight if something starts to go wrong. you two won’t risk falling into bad habits, and can be happy individually. 

instead, you open that golden notebook with shaky hands, your pen having held your place, and you turn it for him to read. 

“can you, um, can you read that last sentence out loud?”

he looks at you, eyes searching for some sort of meaning to how quickly the topic seems to have changed, before letting his gaze fall down to the words at the bottom of the page. 

“i’m trying, i’m really trying here, but i don’t know if i can move on from him, not with all that i’ve still got left in me.” he trails off at the end as he seems to realize what you mean, and lets out a slow breath. 

“rafe, i knew from the minute i got that text what might happen. i knew, for a fact, that i’d be falling back in love with you the minute i saw your face.” 

the air is still, a long silence stretching between the only two people in the room. the sun has gone behind a patch of clouds, leaving the room darker. 🕯️⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

#𓏲 ˖. ♡̷̸ willow writes .ᐟ #ೀ ⊹ lauvgoods 🐻ིྀ #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks

[malfoyfarms]

She Loved You (extended)

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Word Count: 721

Warnings:none

A/n: part two you’ve all been waiting for; side note @softboystarkey i saw ur user on the list and fangirled, ily

The moment John B had seen the familiar scrawl on the outside of a large manilla envelope, he called everyone over to read it. So here the group sat, sitting on the deck as JB pulled the papers out. 

“JJ this one’s specifically for you.” He started to hand it to the boy, but he was cut off.

“No, read it aloud. I won’t be able to get through it.”

So that’s what John B did. He started to narrate his best friend’s words. 

J, 

I really truly hope this letter gets to you. I didn’t want to put a return address on the envelope because I still can’t come home. I do, though, have something very important to tell you. 

For starters, I am safe. I have a roof over my head, a job, and maybe just one friend. I hope you and our gang of bandits are doing alright. I hope JB has forgiven me, because I fucking miss my older brother. It’s taking me longer to detach from you than I thought it would, mostly because you were my whole world. But also because I couldn’t stay away from the ocean. You and the sea are slowly becoming two separate entities, even if I see your eyes every time I look out my bedroom window. 

I hope you found happiness. I hope you are with Kie, giving her all the smiles, hugs and affection that only you could muster. If not her, I hope someone is receiving all the love you have to give. In our time growing up, the two of us have seen many marriages fail (I mean we were both raised by single fathers), and many survive. Miserably survive. That was also why I left. I didn’t want us to end up like either. 

The day you told me how you felt about Kiara had been one of the worst days of my life, and hearing you tell me you wanted another girl wasn’t even the worst thing. About two hours before I met you at the bluffs I took a test. And it was positive. Your pull out game fucking sucks. But so does my ability to take birth control apparently. 

John B stopped reading, as Sarah uttered a “shut the fuck up,” and JJ was paling by the second.

I was terrified, then over the moon, then shattered. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with me because I was pregnant, we’ve seen how that plays out time and time again. I thought about getting rid of it completely, then maybe adoption. Once I heard your confession later that day I knew I had to keep it, so I could have a little bit of you no matter what happened. 

What I’m trying to say is you have a daughter. She was born on October 17th, healthy and happy. Her name is Quincie, Quincie Jay. She’s so beautiful, JJ. She has your blonde hair, my dark eyes, and loves to test the limits. Quincie loves the water. And the beach. Especially the sand. 

I’m coming home soon. I never want to keep her from you, I just wanted to let your universe work itself out before she made an entrance (and boy was it grand). She needs her dad, her two uncles, her two aunts and she needs to learn how to be a cockroach like the rest of us. I want you in her life, she needs to experience love from a Maybank boy. I added a picture to the bottom of the envelope so you could see her. 

All my love, 

Y/n (& QJ)

John B shook the package and a 4x6 photo of both Y/n and Quincie fell out. Y/n had eyes so full of love for her daughter, they were shining so bright the group barely noticed her now darker hair, free of charms, thread and braids, or the lack of her freckles. Quincie Jay on the other hand, she was laughing, her mouth was open, and Y/n was right. She looked like JJ with her mother’s eyes. His girls looked so lovely. 

The group was frantic trying to take a peek at the baby girl in the photo. But all JJ could think about was that his girls were coming home. 

@eddiemunsonhero___ @lilacreader7 @gengen64 @123anonymous123456 @solargazes @Taintedxkisses @shamelessatoru @folkorelover888 @taurusvic @nadinenoa02 @softboystarkey @VOIDRANBOO @Tvdnmf @blueray222 @simp4holland @onehellofabisexual @idli-dosa @byycassie @bokutosmeatythigh

#jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx blurb #obx #pogues #malfoyfarms

[yesimwriting]

The reader seems to be really close to billy and stu , so it got me thinking , what if she had little rituals with them ... like kissing their noses or rubbing their backs , and what if she got possessive of them and in a game of 7 minutes in heaven ou something she just makes out with billy or stu ( bcs in order to be with dark murderous freaks you have to be a freak yourself ...i dont make the rules)

Like imagine billy : im mf special 😏

a/n omg?? i love this!! this concept is adorable :)) i got so excited i put off writing my lit essay lol, this became A LOT longer than I thought it would be lol 

also do y’all like first or second person narration better?? i definitely like writing first person more in chapter fics, but in drabbles/one-shots i change my mind all the time. I did a little of both here lol 

---

The pile of homework I've been working on seems like it'll never end. Like there will always be another packet that needs to be completed or another essay I need to write.

Something behind me shifts. The noise is soft and easy to dismiss, but my body turns instinctually anyways. After what happened to Casey, there's no such thing as being too sure.

With a sigh, my entire body eases as I realize what the source of the noise is. It's just Billy and Stu, magically appearing like they often do on my windowsill. Stu's already inside my room, sitting on the edge of my window, his feet firmly plated on the floor. Billy's leaning against it, his lower half still outside.

Normally, when they show up like this, I grin and urge them to come in faster. "What are you guys doing here?" The way Stu pauses and the look Billy gives me tells me that they weren't expecting that reaction. "I told you guys--not today. I have a ton of homework and like half my family is visiting. My cousins have no concept of boundaries because they're like seven and they barge in here all the time. They're also snitches, the last thing I need is them running to the kitchen and telling their mom that 'Y/n has boys in her room'."

Stu holds up his hands in defense as he stands. "Relax, we're just here for our goodnight kisses."

I turn, adjusting the notebook on my lap as I look at them skeptically.

"We'll leave right after if you want us to," Billy says, pulling himself up onto my windowsill.

Still unsure, I twist my pen between my fingers. "I will want you guys to." My tone is a little harsher than I want it to be. Stu seems a little tenser and Billy's expression clouds. "No, that came out wrong. It’s not that I want you gone, it’s that I’m trying to be practical.” 

"You didn't want us coming over earlier," Stu mumbles, something harsh behind his eyes, "And we barely saw you yesterday."

"Yesterday wasn't my fault. You two went out with Tatum and Sid." I adjust my hold on my notebook. "And I didn't want you guys over earlier today because of homework. Literally all I've done today is go to lunch with my family and homework." Their unease settles in my stomach like a rock. I sigh, pushing my notebook off of my lap. "Okay, come here."

At that, Stu breaks out into a grin. He crosses my room in a few long steps. Once he reaches me, he sinks into my waiting arms. I hug him tightly before he can decide that all isn’t forgiven, burring my face into the side of his neck. He's so warm and always smells so much like him. Like expensive fabric softener, a little bit of body spray, and usually a tiny bit like weed. On anyone else the combination wouldn't work, but on Stu, it makes me feel right at home.

One of my hands runs up and down Stu's back. He eases into the contact. The shirt he's wearing is soft. There's little I love more than Stu's well worn, rich kid T-shirts. I'm already plotting how to steal it from him.

I lean my head upwards, pressing a kiss against his jaw. His eyes flutter shut as I leave a trail of kisses up his cheek and to his temple like I always do.

Billy must have come in while I was distracted. He's lingering next to us, watching with a blank expression. I learned early on that while Billy hates asking for physical contact, he loves receiving it. If I had to take a guess, Billy's hesitance likely comes from his home life, but I'd never say that out loud.

"Okay, Stu," I hum, my nails brushing through his hair, "You're good." His hold on me tightens. "Stu, c'mon." With a bit of a pout, he straightens just enough to place a kiss on my forehead. He's watching me carefully, silently asking me for a few more minutes. "Billy's turn."

Stu frowns, looking like he's sincerely weighing his options. "Fine," he mumbles, placing one last kiss against the side of my head.

Once Stu lets me go, he slumps back onto my bed, laying across my mattress on his back. That does make me a tiny bit nervous because the more comfortable Stu gets, the less likely he is to leave.

I reach over, grabbing Billy's wrist. Gently, I pull him towards me. He lets me. Like always, at first Billy's slow before reciprocating with full force. He melts into my touch, pressing his face into my neck. My fingers trace patterns against his back.

"Missed this," I whisper the admission.

"We missed you, too," Stu replies, hand lazily reaching over for my extended leg. His fingers begin to trace patterns against the skin of my calf. I'd think that the motion was absentminded, but once when I asked him about it, he told me that sometimes he writes out things he wants to do to me. "Soon it'll just be the three of us."

This isn't a conversation that I love. The more they talk about the day where they feel like Sidney and the friend group are stable enough to handle two break ups, the less I believe that that day will ever come. Thinking about it makes me feel like a terrible person.

Billy, sensing that he no longer has my full attention, shifts. He moves impossibly closer, his lips grazing my pulse. I used to jokingly scold him for kissing my neck during times like this before learning that things like that aren't always sexual to him. It's just him at his most relaxed.

My fingers rake through his hair, smoothing it back carefully before placing a series of kisses across his jaw and up his cheek. My trail ends at his temple, like always. The realization that the moment's passing leads to him squeezing me tighter. There's something distinct about his touch today, maybe even a little nervous. That paired with how uncharacteristically quiet he's being leaves me wondering if this ambush visit is a result of something else.

I know he was supposed to do something with his dad this morning. Okay, I need to stop thinking about that before it starts showing on my face. He doesn't like when I worry, he's never said anything, but his hot-to-cold reactions make me think he misinterprets it as pity. If anything, what I feel is anger that I can't walk up to his dad and punch him the face.

"Okay," I hum, "You both got your goodnight kisses...and I have to finish this essay."

"It's Friday," Stu replies, his fingers moving against my skin in what kind of feels like the curve of a 'c'? I'd ask if I wasn't worried about the conversation and mood taking a turn towards something I can't control. "You have two whole days."

I exhale, nails gently scratching at Billy's scalp. "You're throwing a party on Saturday, and Sunday's our first fully free day in over a week. You two aren't going to let me get anything done."

Stu turns his hand, running his knuckles up my leg. "Not true, babe. I've got a whole to-do list for you."

Softly kicking my leg in protest of his joke, I roll my eyes. "It's better for everyone if I just get this stuff done now, especially since you can't sleep over anyways. My little cousins are never in bed when they're supposed to be."

"You can do your homework, Billy and I know how to behave." When I raise an eyebrow at that, Stu concedes, "Okay, we at least know how to entertain ourselves."

Yeah, that's not comforting.

"You guys aren't being fair. I don't remember acting like this when you guys literally went on dates yesterday." I drop my arms away from Billy, ignoring the pinch of guilt that strikes with no warning.

At the lack of contact, Billy sits up. I avoid his gaze. "Is that why you're kicking us out? You're jealous? Upset we're not giving you enough attention?"

"No, I'm kicking you out because there's a group of seven to nine year olds that are super nosy in my house. Especially when it comes to boys. Kennedy's in the third grade and in her crush phase and she's asked me about whether or not I have a boyfriend 50 times."

"Your mom lets us sleep over all the time," Stu defends, "We just need to tell her that our parents did something and she won't care."

My posture straightens in an attempt to seem more determined. "That's different and you know it. She always has you guys crash on the couch and you sneak up later. We can't do that with all my relatives in the house, and you can't show up to my house so late."

Stu doesn't normally see--or at least, doesn't care about--reason, but Billy tends to listen a little more. I look over at him, gauging his expression. I still can't read him as well as he can read me, but I know that the blanker his face is, the more emotion he's feeling.

They're both starting to seem a little weird, maybe a little hurt, and I hate it. I do miss them, I want them here, but it's risky for me. At the end of the day, if my relatives find out, they get to go home. I'm the one that will be in trouble until I graduate.

"Do you really want us to go?" Billy's voice is as flat and void as his expression.

The hollow look he's giving me hurts. "You know I don't." That eerie blankness doesn't go away. "When I lock the door, they just keep knocking until I open it. I guess that gives us time for you two to get into my closet or something."

With that, Billy eases. He's not exactly as relaxed as he was before, but it's a start. I lean forward, grabbing his hand. Stu sits up, shooting up to pull me into another hug. His grin feels smug, but I can't bring myself to call him out on it.

"That's our girl," Stu praises, kissing my cheek.

I press my lips together, fighting a grin. "Wait--there's a condition. You two need to let me finish this essay."

Billy lifts our intertwined fingers to his lips. "Deal."

"You guys are unbelievable." They both look at me expectantly. "Can't believe I'm basically risking my life because I can't go one night without having you two sleepover."

----

Going out with my friends has become extremely bittersweet. I love when the entire friend group's together, but there's just something about seeing Billy and Stu and knowing that things are different. Knowing that they're right there and thousands of miles away at the same time. It's not that we don't talk in public, it's that it's inherently different. And it makes me feel awful.

Each smile I share with Tate and each time I laugh with Sid adds another layer of guilt. It's so bad that both Billy and Stu have had to talk me down from breaking it off with them twice now after large group hang outs.

Whenever I freak out, Billy tells me that this is for the best, that after everything Sidney's gone through, he can't just break up with her while she's still dealing with trauma. The one stable, good thing in her life right now is our friend group. Stu and Tatum breaking up would endanger that as well. Even though keeping these secrets is morally wrong, they're always promising that this is the best way to keep everyone happy. Sid gets the support she needs, Tatum doesn't have to feel weird in the friend group, and we don't have to be heartbroken because of our right person, wrong time situation.

I'm not sure when they started taking a more preventative approach to the whole thing, but now, whenever we have group plans, they make a point of spending some time with me before. Just as a reminder about how they actually feel, I think.

They still haven’t stopped by, which I’m trying to not stress about as I tear my closet apart. Stu’s parties are always crowded and low lit, so what I wear isn’t the biggest deal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. 

After Billy and Stu left early this morning my entire family headed out so that my extended family could be dropped off at the airport. So now I have the house to myself, which is a good thing for when one gets ready. 

I play my music as loud as I want while I take an extra long shower and take my time putting on a face mask. I’m being a little extra about my getting ready routine, but I’m taking advantage of the space and the free time. 

Shrugging off my towel, I pull one of Stu’s old shirts over my head. I’ve had this one for awhile but it still smells like him. I shut off my music and throw open my closet door open. 

I grab yesterday’s jeans off from the back of my desk chair. I had half a mind to wear them again tonight, but they’re a little over due for a wash. My fingers dig through the pockets as I approach my hamper. There’s no change, but there is a tube of chap stick in the front pocket and a tiny slip of paper in the back.

Unfolding the scrap paper, I fold the jeans over my bent arm. Good luck on your math test - Billy. I grin, thumb and pointer finger pinching the torn piece of paper a little too tightly. 

This isn’t the first time I’ve found one of these notes, but each time is equally exciting. It started relatively recently, the appearance of tiny notes in places I’d never expect to find them. In between the pages of books, slipped into my pencil bag, tucked into my folder next to homework assignments, and sometimes directly written into my notebooks. And now, apparently, tucked into the pocket of my jeans. 

The notes range in levels of sweetness, some of them motivational when I’m stressed over something, and others a little more flirty. The one I found before this one was about how pretty he thought I looked while walking to class. They’re all well loved, kept in a shoe box under my bed for me to re-read whenever I need a bit of a pick me up. 

I go back to my closet, looking through my clothes to find something that looks like I’m in the party mood. If I’m being honest, after such a draining week, I think I’d rather stay home and watch some movies instead of being at a party where Stu and Billy are both going to be with their girlfriends. Normally, that’s not enough to get me out of the party mood, but that paired with how busy I’ve been this week doesn’t have me thrilled for this. At least Randy will be there. 

Sighing, I start sorting through my clothes, trying to get myself into a party mood. I’m sure once I have an outfit I like and I fix my appearance, I’ll feel better about this.

I’ve just laid out a few outfit options on my bed when I hear a few familiar taps against the frame of my window. Tamping down a grin, I look up, not even bothering to look surprised. Billy and Stu are already pulling themselves into my room.

“You know, I do have a front door,” I mumble, straightening the skirt I just laid out on my bed.

Stu dramatically sigh, stomping into my room before flopping face first onto my bed. “That’s the hello we get?”

I roll my eyes. “I was just saying.” Stu props his head up on his elbow, looking up at me with criminally soft eyes. I drop my gaze, reaching for the top that he’s now wrinkling. “And you’re messing up my outfits.”

He watches me as I hold out the shirt. “You’re wearing that?” 

“I don’t know,” I mumble, ignoring his tone, “I have a few options, but I was thinking this with the dark green skirt.” 

Stu rolls onto his back before reaching over for the skirt I’m talking about. He looks at it skeptically. “This skirt?” 

“Yep.” Stu didn’t sound too thrilled. “Why? Do you think it doesn’t match? Because I was thinking about that.” 

Billy pushes away from the wall he was leaning against. “It’s short, sweetheart.” 

I look at him oddly. It’s not insanely short, I mean, I’ve worn shorter. “Not that short,” my eyes look over the fabric that Stu’s still holding, “My mom bought it for me. It’s fine.” 

Stu drops his arm. “I’ve seen the way your mom dresses.” 

“Are you slut shaming my mom right now?” 

“No,” Stu begins lazily, “I’m just saying that that doesn’t mean the skirt’s not too short.” 

I didn’t even want to wear this that badly before. “Too short? You guys aren’t my dad.” 

“Well, considering what you call u--” 

“Oh my god,” I cringe, throwing my shirt in Stu’s direction. The fabric lands against his face. Stu ignores me, pulling it off of him. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a skirt.” 

“A skirt that’s going to have people looking at you.” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I stare at anything but Billy as he approaches me. His hand clasps around my forearm, pulling me a tiny bit forward. “Looking at what’s ours.” 

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the possessive undertones of the words didn’t make my face feel warm. The hypocrisy, though, almost immediately dismisses that. “So I have to be all okay with you two literally having girlfriends, but the line is drawn at me wearing a skirt you guys think is too short?” He squeezes my arm. “Maybe I want a little attention, it’s not like you guys can give me any tonight.” 

Billy’s hold on me goes from casual to nearly painful. His knuckles turn white against my skin and I’m sure that if this goes on for any longer, there are going to be finger shaped bruises there. I meet Billy’s gaze. His eyes have darkened significantly. 

“So that’s what the skirt’s about? You’re throwing a tantrum because you’re not getting enough attention?” 

This is going downhill fast. I’m going to need to backtrack the hell out of this conversation. “No, I-I was just making a point. It’s a little bit of a double standard, you have to at least be able to admit that.” The lack of emotion in his expression turns my stomach. I force myself to hold his gaze. “It just sucks sometimes, going to these things and seeing you guys with your girlfriends, and then I feel bad about feeling like that because they’re my friends.” 

“They’re not our girlfriends, they’re a situation,” Billy’s voice is harsher than it’s ever been while directed at me, “You’re our girlfriend.” 

My eyes widen. Despite how close we’ve gotten, the actual ‘g’ and ‘b’ words have not been used. I know I’ve been tripping over myself to avoid calling either of them my boyfriend by accident. His hold hasn’t loosened, but I can’t help my grin. My head tilts to the side, eyes softening as I place a hand over his. “Girlfriend?” 

Stu walks up to us. I don’t realize that he’s moving until I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Of course you are, you’re our girl.” He extends an arm, somewhat playfully pushing against Billy’s forearm. “Old Billy boy here wasn’t supposed to just say it like that. We’ve been planning it out, we were gonna ask.” Stu doesn’t release Billy’s arm, “It’s all Billy talks about, might wanna ease off on the love spells, he’s obsessed with you.” Stu squeezes my shoulder, running his thumb across the skin. “All day, it’s ‘you think Y/n’s okay?, Y/n’s hair looked so soft today, we should go see Y/n.’” 

Billy throws a look in Stu’s direction, his grip on me loosening. I smile, “Really?” 

“Fuck off,” Billy mumbles, shoving Stu. “He’s the one that’s whipped. Sometimes he misses the smell of your perfume.”

I grin despite their odd tension. It doesn’t take much for play fights to turn into something else, something I don’t understand because half of it is unspoken between them. But I love this. 

“Okay,” I hum, probably a little too chipper as I step between them, “This is officially my favorite argument the two of you have had.” 

They’re both starting to move over to a different world that’s just theirs. I step forward, pulling Billy into a hug. After a second, he reciprocates. I shift, moving to press a kiss to his cheek. “I think about you a lot, y’know.” He’s looking at me calmly, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d think there might be the faintest tinge of color in his face. 

“A lot,” he echoes, tone amused. 

I grin, nodding once, “Yes, don’t make it a thing.” The way the corner of his mouth turns upwards tells me that he’d be happy to have me spend the rest of tonight unpacking what I mean by that. I tilt my head, looking at Stu, “And you.” Stu’s eyes widen slightly as he waits for me to continue, “Sometimes I miss the way you smell, too.” 

Stu’s eyes narrow jokingly, eyes soft, “Really?” 

“Why do you think I’m always wearing your shirts?” 

He smiles, pulling Billy and I into a hug that thoroughly squishes me between them. Sometimes I wish everything could be as easy as it is in our little bubble.

“Okay,” I begin pointedly, playing up my annoyance, “Watch the hair, I’m still getting ready.” Before they can make anything of that comment, I continue, “Even though I’m my own person and I hate that thing where guys are all like ‘there’s no way you’re wearing that’, I guess there’s nothing wrong with taking into consideration how my boyfriends feel.” Saying that makes me so happy I can’t even bother to hide my grin. “How about a compromise--the jean skirt I wore last week and the top I threw at Stu earlier.” 

With a dramatic sigh, Stu drops his forehead onto my shoulder. “You’re going to make tonight impossible.”

He’s exaggerating a little, which is fitting considering sometimes it feels like all it takes to get Stu going is a look that lasts a little too long paired with the tiniest bit of exposed skin. “Sounds like a you problem.” 

Stu looks up at me, half glaring at me through hooded eyes. He lethargically smacks the top of my thigh, right where his t-shirt ends. It’s a testament to his easygoing mood, but I can’t help my dramatic gasp. 

“What?” Sometimes I think Stu would be insufferable if his smile wasn’t so cute. “If you’re going to be mean, I’m going to be mean back.” 

Okay, there’s a chance I am being a tiny bit mean. Did I pick the skirt that had Stu making up a super lame excuse during lunch just so he could get me into a supply closet for a makeout session I had to cut short? Maybe. Was it on purpose? ...I’d like to say no, but honestly, maybe. 

“Alright,” Billy interjects, “I know that look in both of your eyes, and we don’t have time for that.” 

He’s not wrong. I reluctantly pull away from both of them and go back to getting ready. We’ve fallen into a little bit of a routine. I go through my getting ready to go out routine, and they casually--or not so casually--look around my room. If that isn’t entertaining enough, they patiently follow me around. 

It’s kinda cute. Especially if I decide to wear makeup and they ask about whatever it is I’m putting on my face. One of these days I’m going to have to let Stu put eyeliner on me. 

By the time I’m almost done, Billy and Stu are still content with looking around my room. I have no idea what they find so interesting about my space, it’s not like it changes often enough to warrant their curiosity. But if it makes them happy to look through my bedside drawer and leaf through whatever notebook or book are left out on my desk, why stop them? 

Now that I’m dressed and have given my appearance a once over in the mirror, I’m basically ready. All that I need to do is figure out how to get the clasp of this necklace to just...

“You okay?” 

Billy’s sudden appearance at my side nearly makes the chain slip from my fingers. His steps are so quiet sometimes. Honestly, a little more practice and he could play a killer in a movie he’d love. “Yeah, there’s just something about putting necklaces on yourself that’s impossible.” 

“Here,” he breathes, fingers barely grazing my neck as he takes the clasp from me. Billy turns the necklace as he steps behind me. He latches the clasp with surprisingly minimal effort. Instead of releasing me, he adjusts the necklace so that the charm sits perfectly centered. Billy leans towards me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

Stu, who was previously looking at a framed picture of me at some birthday party when I was little, turns his attention towards us. “Aw, how domestic, you’re like an old, married couple.” 

I turn just in time to catch Billy’s meant-to-be dismissive eye roll, but there’s the faintest touch of something else, something that might be a little flustered. It’s gone before I can be sure. 

 “We’re cute,” I agree, reaching for Billy’s hand to squeeze it once. “Okay, I’m ready, so you guys should go. I’ll show up in about half an hour, give people some time to get there so that nothing looks weird.” 

Stu frowns, setting the picture frame back in place. “It’s not that suspicious, we’re friends, you’re punctual.” 

I press my lips together. We have our rules in place for a reason, and talking about them too much makes me feel things I really don’t like feeling. “You know why I can’t.” 

Billy must notice my shifting mood because he cups my face. “You’re forgetting something before kicking us out.” When I don’t respond right away, Billy kisses my cheek. “In case you needed a reminder.” 

Of course. If there’s one thing Billy’s consistent about it’s our little traditions. At first, they were just excuses to be cheesy, especially when I was feeling a little insecure, but now, they’re more significant.

I tilt my head upwards, leaving a trail of kisses up his cheek. Stretching upwards, I then place a kiss on the tip of his nose. He then kisses my forehead. Our goodbye ritual. 

“Hey, I’m leaving too.” The fact that I’m surprised that Stu is already within grabbing distance makes me a little too aware of how tired I am. 

Pushing against the feeling that begs me to just stay here tonight, I beam at him. He lets me hug him. His hands find their way around my waist and I press kisses against his cheek until I’ve reached his nose. Stu tilts his head down to help me reach him. My body eases as he presses a kiss to my forehead. 

“Okay, you guys should go.” Shifting awkwardly and dropping my arms to my side, I tact on a half thought in hopes of making this easier on all of us, “Maybe some time alone will do me some good, help me get into the party mood.” 

There’s a brief silence, and then Stu steps back, “See you later.” 

“Yeah,” I say, a little flatly.

Billy’s eyes are trained on Stu, who just barely glances back. To anyone else, it’d come off as casual eye contact. A small feeling that’s little more than an itch at the back of my mind tells me that its the beginning of one of their exchanges. Or maybe I’m just on edge.

They approach the window, leaving like they always do.

----

Narrator’s POV

You never thought you’d want to kill Randy as badly as you do right now. One minute, the two of you are casually drinking, and he’s listening to a tipsy you summarize the plot of the latest show you’re invested in, and the next he’s trying to usher everyone into a game of 7 minutes in heaven. 

You swore you weren’t playing, even when Randy started complaining. No one will go for it unless they think they have a chance with someone as hot as you. Your no stood firm, even when other people started sitting in front of Stu’s guest bathroom.

All you wanted to do was be an observer. To sit next to Randy and to ignore the weird looks Billy and Stu took turns sending you from across the room as you finished off your beer. Instead, you had to watch Stu’s spin land on Tatum, and you had to watch him walk with her to the bathroom with enthusiasm. Those 7 minutes had you getting up to grab another drink that you nearly downed before getting back to your seat. 

That was what really set the night off. You had been pacing your drinks before then, wanting to keep the balance between being buzzed enough to be social and drinking enough to become messy. Stu stepping out of the closet with a grin and an arm around an uncharacteristically bashful Tatum pushed you right to that line. Billy ending up in the bathroom with Sidney next is what pushed you over it. 

It’s ridiculous, no one can fully control where their spin lands, but it was all too coincidental. Too perfect. 

And that’s how you ended up here. In a closet with Jonathan White from your second period. The same Jonathan White that’s always staring at your chest. You’re about two minutes into the most awkward small talk of your life while pretending to not notice his leering and clumsy, half thought out advances when the door opens. 

There’s no way that 7 minutes are already up, but you’re too relieved to question it. The calm feeling settling in your chest quickly disappears when you look towards the doorway. Stu’s leaning against the wooden frame, eyes cooly locked on you. 

“Dude.” Jonathan’s complaints die down at the back of his throat when Stu turns to look at him. You can’t fully see his expression, but despite how buzzed you are, you don’t miss his unexpected edge. 

“It’s my house, dude.” Stu’s reaction isn’t harsh in the way you expect it to be. It’s the calmness of his voice that cuts straight through you. “I can do whatever I want in my house, and you’re not going to stop me.” 

You’re not convinced Stu’s talking about his house. “Stu.” You have to bite your tongue to avoid blurting out that nothing was going on. Why should you clear the air? You and Jonathan were far apart, which is more than you can say about him and Tatum. “You’re drunk.” 

Stu ignores the touch of warning in your voice. He doesn’t even let himself look in your direction. It’s the only thing he can think to do to associate his anger with someone that isn’t you. 

“Whatever,” you breathe, deciding that the best thing you can do to diffuse the tension is to remove yourself from the situation, “I’m getting another drink.” 

You skirt past them, practically holding your breath until you’re fully out of the bathroom. No one’s sitting in that lopsided circle anymore. Whatever happened in those few minutes you were in the closet must have killed the mood just enough to end the game. Oh, well, you can’t say you’re too torn up about it. 

The alcohol isn’t settling in your stomach as comfortably as you’d like, but you meant what you said. You’re getting another drink. Maybe that will make you feel less like you’re balancing on the edge of a knife. 

You walk into the kitchen, frowning when you realize that the big cooler’s empty. It’s probably a sign from the universe to quit while you’re ahead, but you choose to ignore it. Instead of going back to the party and finding either Randy or one of the few familiar faces from some of your classes, you decide to go to Stu’s garage. You know for a fact he keeps extra beer in there. 

You step into the space, shutting the door behind you. The separation from the party is refreshing. A part of you regrets coming. Parties suck when you’re not in the specific mood for them. Why are you even here? To sit outside and listen to music that’s too loud while Billy and Stu hook up with their actual girlfriends while you down beer? You don’t even like beer that much. 

An idea latches itself onto your mind. You could leave. You could go home, change into pajamas, and pass out in bed. Sure, Billy and Stu wouldn’t be happy with it, especially considering the looks they gave you during spin the bottle, but you’re not happy with them. And why should you stick around in a setting you’re not in the mood for when they’ve been actively ignoring you since you got here? Obviously, they can’t get away with being all lovey dovey, but they could treat you like a friend. Or at the very least, not keep Sidney and Tatum away from you like you’re the plague.

Besides, all you’re going to do is go home and go to bed. If that makes them mad, then that’s their issue. Especially since they want to act all cute when they’re in your room, claim that you’re their actual girlfriend, and then treat you like you’re repulsive in public.

You’re interrupted from your fantasies of just walking out the front door by the sound of the garage door creaking open. You snap your gaze towards it and fight the urge to roll your eyes when you see that it’s Stu. You’re annoyed and tipsy, but still sober enough to know that the last thing you want to do is add any additional fuel to the fire. 

He walks towards the refrigerator without looking at you. The silence is starting to get to you as Stu opens the fridge. After a second of him looking around in there, Stu turns towards you. He’s holding your favorite drink. Wordlessly, he twists the cap off before extending an arm.

You blink once, slowly moving your hand to accept his offer. “I didn’t see these.”

Stu casually shrugs, shutting the fridge behind him. “Got them for you, Billy hid them in the back so no one else would grab them. Guess he forgot to tell you. 

The ‘forgot’ nearly makes you scoff. They both purposefully ignored you when you first got here and waved at them, and they’ve only looked at you to make you uncomfortable since. But you can’t say that right now. You’re tired and probably more drunk than him. Starting a fight isn’t something you can afford right now. 

“Oh,” you mumble, “Thanks.” You bring the drink to your lips, taking a slow sip. “Think I’m gonna go after this.” 

“Go?” Something flickers behinds Stu’s expression. “I thought you were staying over.” 

A sarcastic comment rises up your throat. After the way they’ve been acting, there’s no way he can think that your ideal ending of tonight is crawling into bed with them. Any bite in you dies down the second you meet his gaze. There’s no way to describe it. Unfeeling. 

“I uh-” You tilt your head, playing into your inebriated state. You shift back, which is all the excuse Stu needs to take two steps forward, practically caging you between him and a wall. “I had a little too much to drink and I’m not feeling great. I don’t think I’ll be a lot of fun, I just need to pass out in a dark room before everything starts spinning.”

He doesn’t look convinced or angry or anything. There’s something eerie about the cold indifference he’s radiating. “You wouldn’t lie to me, right, sweetheart?” 

You let your eyes drop to the glass bottle in your hand. You take a quick sip. “Was gonna ask you the same thing.” The mumble escapes you before you can think through your slurred words. 

Stu takes a step forward. You squeeze the bottle between your fingers a little tighter to avoid shrinking back. “What was that?” 

You look up just in time to see Stu tilt his head in order to regard you a little more cautiously. The last time you had a sub in your science class, they played a video about the structure of a predator’s mind and how they prepare to catch their prey. The way Stu’s eyes darken sends you straight back to that classroom. 

You can’t tell if the heat that rushes to your face is a tang of fear or something else. Or maybe it’s an uneasy combination of both. 

The door squeaks open again. Your head snaps in that direction, but Stu doesn’t look away. He doesn’t even bother putting a less conspicuous amount of space between you. 

“You two okay back here?” You let out a breath. It’s just Billy. 

“All good,” you manage just as Stu says, “She wants to go.” 

You keep your eyes focused on Billy, not wanting to think about Stu that way again. “I’m not feeling great and I’m tired.” The defense is weak, made even more pathetic by the slight pout of your lips. “Plus it’s not like you guys would notice anyway.” 

“What?” Billy’s question is oddly gentle.

The whiplash that gives you is nearly enough to make you drop the glass in your hand. You shut your eyes for a second, resting your head against the wall. Everything’s starting to feel a little too fuzzy. “You know what I’m talking about. At my house, it’s all talk about liking me, calling me your girlfriend, and then I get here and you don’t even want to be friends with me.” The blow up doesn’t make you feel better. The room is full on spinning now, you lean completely against the wall so that it can support your weight. Ugh, you know you won’t be able to handle their reaction. “’M tired, and I-I’m feeling weird. I think I should go to bed.” 

The quiet that follows has you fighting to not push past both of them in order to get to a bathroom. It’s shattered by Stu’s humorless laugh. His breath is hot against your jaw and it’s too much. “Aw,” he hums, his tone so sweet it circles right back to bitter, “She’s jealous, isn’t that cute?” 

You squint your eyes open. “Shut up.” 

“Why?” Billy asks, stepping further into the room, “He’s right. You think I didn’t see the way you were looking at me and Sid when we came out of the bathroom?” 

You sigh indignantly. “I’m too tired for this.” 

“But you weren’t too tired to be all over Randy or Jonathan White?” 

Your glare turns into something meek once you see the way Stu’s looking at you. “I wasn’t all over Randy, he was just the only person that was talking to me tonight because of you two. Neither of you even said hi to me and every time I tried talking to Sidney and Tatum, you’d come by and take them away.” The thought of Jonathan makes you sick all over again. “And I was nowhere near Jonathan White, and I’d never be willingly. He’s a total perv, and he made Shannon Walton cry before class the other day. And Shannon Walton’s the nicest, she always has gum and gives everyone her notes if they’re absent.” 

Stu doesn’t ease. “Don’t change the subject, you didn’t need to play.”

“You didn’t either,” you counter, “And I-I wasn’t even playing at first. I was just gonna sit in the room so I could keep talking to Randy, and then you two--” 

“So you only played because you were jealous.” Billy’s voice has taken on an edge that you don’t like. He continues, walking towards you with even, practically bored steps. “That’s not very nice of you.” 

They haven’t been very nice either, you think bitterly. “You started it.” 

The childish defense leaves the corner of Billy’s mouth turning upwards. “I’m not all over you for for 5 minutes and you get like this.” 

The dismissal makes your face feel warm. “Maybe we should give her a break.” The mocking in Stu’s tone strikes a nerve. “She’s just jealous.” You draw your eyebrows together, and Stu grins meanly. “You’re lucky green’s a pretty color on you, babe.” 

Chagrin fuels your reaction as you burst out a too confident, “’M not jealous.” 

Stu’s laugh is harsh, “You’re not?” 

Pushing down your instincts, you tilt your chin up a fraction of an inch in order to hold your ground. “Can’t be jealous because I know you two are mine.” 

At that, they both seem to still. You hold Stu’s stare until you no longer feel like you’re the one that’s trapped. The confidence is likely in your head and a byproduct of all you’ve had to drink, but it gives you the assurance you need to straighten your spine. Stu angles his head to the side and you’re not sure if it’s a good sign or not. To not panic, you extend your arms, resting them around his neck. The nails of the hand that isn’t holding the bottle trail down his neck. 

You can’t back out now. The way he’s looking at you changes. You can’t interpret his expression, which only puts you on edge more. He wants to be quiet, to dismiss you in one final, petty jab, but the more your nails dig into sensitive skin, the more he struggles. The nail thing’s a habit you developed after realizing how much it affects him.

“Watch the nails, sweetheart.” It’s meant to seem like a warning, but it slips out of him a little too low. He’s overcompensating to cover for what was almost a whine. 

You blink up at him through your eyelashes with maliciously soft eyes. “Starting to hurt?” He’s quiet, you scratch at his skin, hard enough to leave the kind of red marks that disappear almost as soon as they appear.

“This attitude’s cute, but don’t push it.” 

Everything from tonight hits you all at once as you tilt your head innocently. “Or what?” 

Billy knew that you were treading on ice so thin that even Stu couldn’t see the cracks since before you got here. That one comment you made before they left your place had been harder to deal with than Billy would ever admit. Stu pretended that he was fine with it, that he didn’t feel the strain of panic that comes from feeling like they need you more than you need them. And then you showed up here, as pretty as ever, and basically fine when they started ignoring you. And now this. 

It’s a slippery slope. The line between the amount of attitude that gets Stu going and the amount of attitude that pushes him towards something he can’t control is thin.

Billy steals the bottle from your hand and leans forward, grabbing your jaw with his free hand and pulling you into a kiss. It’s so sudden it takes you a second to relax into it. Once you finally do, a small sound escapes you. Billy deepens the kiss with no warning. You clumsily follow his lead despite how much they’ve annoyed you tonight.

He pulls away quickly once he’s sure that the energy in the room has been redirected, resting his forehead against yours. You don’t get the chance to recover. You’re still panting when Stu’s hand finds its way into the roots of your hair. He yanks on it, forcing you towards him. 

Stu’s kiss is hard and disorientating. You know that he has a way of being all consuming when he wants to be, but this is something else. You can’t take a full breath, but Stu doesn’t care. He doesn’t let you go until he’s done, and even then he takes his time releasing you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. 

You’re dizzy and somehow even drunker than before. You reach for Stu unsteadily. He looks you over slowly. “You get her in bed and I’ll figure out how to start kicking people out.”

Billy places an arm around your waist. His lack of protest surprises you slightly, but you’re not complaining about it. You need his help, and Billy knows it. That, paired with the fact that this is the only time he has an excuse to publicly hold onto you, makes him love when nights end like this. 

He always has an excuse ready in case Sid or someone else notices. Y/n can’t handle her alcohol and she’d kill all of us if we let her go home like this. She’s gonna sleep it off in Stu’s room for a little. It’s basically true, and it also gives Billy the excuse to linger around you. There are a lot of people that’d take advantage of your situation. Sid can’t be mad at that, if anything, she’d be mad at him for knowing how vulnerable you were and not doing anything.  

Billy leads you into Stu’s room, abandoning your last drink on the first surface he finds. He sits you down on the edge of Stu’s bed before opening one of Stu’s drawers. “Here,” he tosses one of Stu’s T-shirts towards you, “You got it or you need help?”

Shutting the drawer, Billy turns back to you. You’re laying down now, not even under the sheets. “You can’t fall asleep like that.” 

“Mhm,” you mumble, face half buried into your mattress. 

With a sigh, Billy walks towards you. He grabs your arm, pulling on you until you’re finally sitting. With a bit of prompting, you stand. Billy watches you struggle for a second before sighing. He keeps you steady as you get out of your clothes and pulls Stu’s T-shirt over your head. 

You’re too tired to care about the fact that you’re supposed to be mad at him. “Bed now?” 

Billy cups your cheek, his thumb soothingly brushing against your skin. “Last time I let you pass out before washing your face, you made me promise to never let it happen again.” 

----

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep when an unexpected pressure stirs you awake. Ignoring the feeling, you try rolling over in order to pull the covers up to your neck. Something doesn’t let you. 

“You’re up,” Stu whispers against your hair, “You’re up, you’re okay.”

Twisting so that you’re flat on your black, you squint your eyes open. It’s still dark, so you know it’s still night time. You don’t remember exactly how you got here, but you know that you were comfortable. You also only vaguely remember the weirdness and your anger from earlier. 7 minutes in heaven thanks to Randy, a bit of confrontation in the garage. It feels less important now. 

Smiling, you slowly extend your until your knuckles are brushing against his cheek. “What time is it?” 

“Late,” Stu answers. 

“Then wh--” 

“Need my goodnight kisses,” he breathes, pressing a few, quick kisses to your temple. 

You smile, “Thought you were mad a--” 

Stu’s fingers squeeze your hips. “Don’t want to talk about that.” If you were less drowsy, you might have jumped a little. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Nodding you reach for him a little steadier now. Stu relents, leaning into you as you start to kiss his cheek. 

Billy’s hand finds your waist just as you start relaxing again. “What about me?” 

#ghostface x reader #ghostface #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #scream #scream 1996 #scream x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #scream imagine #x reader

[ironbabey]

Unimportant

Word Count: 2.5k

TW: Angst, fighting, reader is pretty mean, drinking, fluffy ending though

YU pronounced "you", I prefer that over typing y/n

~~~~

You’ve called him 35 times within the hour. 

35 times did you hear that same voicemail, Hey it’s Peter! If I missed your call, it’s probably because I'm out with my amazing girlfriend! Leave a message!...BEEP

Yeah, he’s supposed to be with you but he’s not. 

Sometimes you feel bad for getting upset but boy does it hurt your heart when he doesn’t show up to anything you guys planned to do because apparently Spider-Man just needs to be everywhere. You thought you’d feel proud because he was willing to drop everything to help but why wasn’t he willing to drop anything for you? 

“Hey, Peter, sorry for calling so many times. I thought you’d like to know that I’m just gonna go home. I’ll see you later…bye.” You fought against the tears as you hung up, finally standing up from your seat at some cheesy little restaurant you didn’t remember the name of and headed home. 

How cliche is it that it started to rain on your short walk back? 

You opened the door to your shared apartment and threw your wet coat onto the couch and took a seat.

Your roommate was in the kitchen and greeted you, “How was the date?” Michelle asked, taking one look at your face, “He didn’t show up? Again?” 

She walked out of the kitchen with two plates, “Is it sad to say I expected it? I even made your favorite.” She said, setting the plate down in front of you. 

“I just don’t understand, am I not important?” You choked, finally letting the tears roll down your cheeks, “Does he not love me anymore?” 

MJ put her own plate down and hugged you as tight as she could. She knew about Peter being Spider-Man and she also knew that he was the dumbest person ever. She let you cry it all out and boy did you cry. 

~~~

Peter fucked up, he fucked up real bad. 

He looked at the missed calls on his phone as he stood outside the closed restaurant he was supposed to be at 3 hours ago. The flowers in his hand were soaked and ruined by the rain along with his apology. 

He was going to be there on time, he even watched you from across the street as you entered the doors but before he could call out to you his spidey senses went off and he had to go. He wanted to call you, text you even, but the fight was with the Lizard who escaped the R.A.F.T.. 

“Hey, Peter, sorry for calling so many times. I thought you’d like to know that I’m just gonna go home. I’ll see you later…bye.

He heard the pain in your voice, the disappointment in him. You didn’t say the usual ‘I love you’ before you hung up. Could he blame you though? He’s lost count on how many times he’s abandoned you and how many times you’ve forgiven him, but recently he’s noticed you were getting tired of it. Peter knows this could be the last straw. When you guys first started dating it was in highschool, things were easier then. There were no big bad guys to fight and he never missed a date unless he really needed to. He remembered how understanding and forgiving you were then. Now, he prays you still are.

He swung to your place as fast as he could, thinking of a million ways to make it up to you. He’d do anything if it meant you’d forgive him. 

He made it to your kitchen window and overheard Michelle say she was going to grab ‘break-up’ snacks from the store down the block. 

Break-up? 

No no no. 

He waited for the girl to leave before knocking on the window. 

~~~

Your heart dropped. Peter looked at you with the saddest look and you dare felt pity for him. He didn’t wait for an answer and slid the window open, “Hey.” 

You sniffed, “Hey.” 

Peter made his way to you, soaking the floor with every step and with his arms stretched out, “Look, YU, I didn’t–” 

You took a step back, “No, please Peter, no. You’re the last person I want to see right now.” 

Ouch, that hurt. 

Peter’s eyes were getting glossy as he put his arms down. “Did she mean it? Are you breaking up with me?” He choked, “I’ll do–be better. I promise.” 

“You make that promise every time, Pete.” You sniffled, your eyes burning from all the crying, “I’m so tired of feeling unimportant to you.” 

Peter felt like the biggest asshole on the planet, he never wanted to make you feel like this. You’re everything to him. 

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you babe–” 

“Don’t call me that! You’ve lost every right to call me anything other than my name! Do you know how many times you’ve left me waiting for you? How many places I refuse to go to because they’ll know me as the girl who waited hours for a guy that never showed up?” You snapped, the anger pouring out of you all at once, ”The first few times when we were in highschool were okay, we were trying to figure it out. Now? It’s embarrassing. I hate the way you make me feel.” You stared at the ground, “I hate it.”

Your words dug their way into his heart, piercing it with every word. He never knew it was hurting you this bad, and by the time you looked back up at him, he was crying. 

“Bab–YU, I–I didn’t know. I’ll stop right now. I’ll hang up the suit.” 

You sighed, “I don’t want it to feel like it’s a choice between me and Spider-Man. The city isn’t your girlfriend, I am. Why can’t you drop everything and come to me sometimes? I understand you like to help but the NYPD is more than capable of stopping petty thefts without you. You’ve missed my birthday twice, our anniversary, and a family wedding because you chose to stop someone from jaywalking or something stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, YU. Today I had to lock Lizard back up–” 

“And what about last time? Huh? You just had to stop someone from shoplifting? Or the time before that when you didn’t show up because you thought someone was breaking and entering when really they just lost their keys?” You huffed, “Seems like you just don’t want to hangout with me. I don’t understand why you can’t ask one of your Avengers buddies to cover for you for one night.” 

Now Peter was just as mad as you were. You basically just said what he does is stupid. Deep down you knew he just likes to help but you just wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt you. 

“So now everything I do as Spider-Man means nothing? The Avengers have more important things to deal with, I can’t just ask them to do what I do.” He bit back, “Everything I do is to help the city as much as I can and here you are mad because I missed dinner.” 

“I’m mad because you don’t care!” 

Ding

You looked down at your phone and saw a message from Michelle. 

Let me know when to come back, unless you want me to kick him out.

Great. If she can hear you then your neighbors could too. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, “I do care! I just, I don’t know–.” 

You cut him off, “You care about the city more.” 

Please, make him leave.

The door swung open, an angry Michelle came walking in. 

Peter scoffed, “Are you serious? You send in backup instead of having a conversation with me?” 

Michelle set the bags down and rolled her sleeves up, “I don’t care if you have superpowers or not. This is my home and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

“No problem, I’ll see myself out.” Peter huffed, heading towards the door, “So this is it? This is really how it’s going to end?” 

“I guess so.” 

He gave you the saddest eyes you have ever seen, “I love you.” 

~~~

It’s been three months since that night. Three months since you’ve broken up with Peter. 

Over the days you had boxed up his things and made the trip to his apartment to drop them off. You always went when you knew he wouldn’t be there, when Ned was just there. 

“Y’know, he misses you.” He would say and every time you’d reply with a simple, “I know.” 

There would be times when Peter would try to text you or call you. He’s even tried coming to your place but Michelle would always be the one to answer the door and shooed him away. 

Then you had your moments when you wanted to unblock him and tell him you missed him, that you just wanted him to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay. You started biting your nails, wondering if you’ve made the right choice. Maybe you guys could've worked something out, you guys could have fixed things.

On the nights you had to walk home because MJ had to borrow your car you knew he was watching over you, and you prayed he would swing down to talk to you. He never did. 

One night, Liz invited you and MJ to her 23rd birthday party. You begged your friend to go with you and after successfully persuading her you finally had a reason to dress nice and enjoy yourself. You tried to get Michelle to dress up but she told you that you’re lucky she’s even going.

“I can’t believe we have a friend this loaded.”, Michelle said once you guys made it to the front steps of Liz’s Mansion of a house, “Almost makes you forget her dad was the literal Vulture.” 

You laughed, “Yeah. Good times.” 

Not really. You remembered that night. Peter had left you at Prom because of Adrien Toomes. It was actually the first time he had ditched you. On your way home you saw him coughing up blood and trying to hide his wounds in an alleyway, that’s when you found out he was Spider-Man. You felt bad for being so upset with him.

“You guys made it!” Liz exclaimed, bringing you back to reality, “Drinks are in the kitchen and there’s games in the backyard!” 

You and MJ made your way inside and saw a sea of 20-something year olds absolutely wasted, and a familiar mop of hair. Why was he here? He never liked parties. 

Your breath hitched and MJ noticed, “We can go.” She offered.

“No, like hell he’s going to ruin this for me.” You replied, making your way over to the drinks. 

~~~

Peter almost declined Liz’s invitation until Ned said it would be nice to try and let loose and get out of the apartment. He was hesitant but ended up going anyway, not wanting to make his friend worry more than he was. 

“Holy shit…is that YU?” 

Peter had never turned his head as quickly as he had when Ned exclaimed he saw you. “Where?” 

Ned pointed over to the kitchen, “Do you not hear everyone cheering her on? It’s impossible to miss.” 

“YU! YU! YU!” 

Sure enough there you were at a pop-up table taking shot after shot. It burned your throat in the greatest way possible and the cheers of everyone around you added onto it. 

You had no idea how deep you were in but you felt as if you needed more. MJ got dragged off by Liz who insisted on teaching her how to play some drinking game you couldn’t remember. 

You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t even feel the arm that wrapped around your waist, “Hey pretty girl.” The stench of someone's hot breath kills your vibe instantly. 

“Get-Get off of me.” You slurred, trying to swat the stranger away from you, “I–”

“She has a boyfriend,” That voice, that sweet, beautiful voice, “I suggest you back off.” 

The stranger held his hands up, “Alright man, geez.” 

You looked up at Peter’s clenched jaw as he lead you to get some fresh air outside, his eyes looking at everything but you

“I-I didn’t ne-need your help, punk.” You squint your eyes as menacing as you could, “I-You’re not my bo-boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t like how he thought he could be touchy.” 

“What-What if I wanted to?” You mumbled. 

Darn Peter’s super hearing. 

“You’re saying you wanted to sleep with him? Really?” He sneered, “You don’t mean it.” 

You crossed your arms, “He gave m-me more attention th-than you had in-in three years.” 

Peter pinched his eyes, “I haven’t stopped thinking about our fight and here you are, getting wasted and hooking up with men.” 

“Hav-Haven’t slept wit-with anyone, missed you too much.” The alcohol was turning against you, “ ‘m sorry, Pete.” You were crying now, a blubbering and boogery mess.

“No, I’m sorry,” He sighs and he attempts to wipe your tears away, “I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were less important than Spider-Man. I’d do anything to make it up to you, there hasn’t been a day that went by where I didn’t think about you.” 

“Y-You mean it?” You sobbed, “Can-Can we go? My car–keys in my pocket.” 

Before he could grab the keys he saw Liz and MJ make their way to the backseat of your car. 

“How about we walk? My place isn’t too far.” 

~~~

The next morning you woke up in a familiar setting, one you haven’t been in for awhile. 

The smell of Peter’s cologne filled your senses as you tried to pull a blanket over your head to block out the sun. Wait…Peter? You sat up so quick it made your head throb, but you didn’t care. How did you end up in Peter’s bed? In his shirt? 

The memories of last night came flooding in, even the part where you had told him you missed him. 

“Hey! You’re up!” 

You looked up and saw Peter standing in his bedroom doorway, “Before you say anything, no, we didn’t sleep together. I slept on the couch.” 

You pulled at the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “Then how..?” 

“I got you dressed, you complained that your clothes were suffocating and you were struggling to get them off. I promise though, I was respectful and didn’t attempt anything.” He chuckled, “You were pretty wasted.” 

You could cry, you broke up with him and said hurtful things and yet here he was taking care of you.

Peter stiffened, “Hey…why are you crying? Did I do something?”

You smiled and tried to wipe your tears away, “No, I did. I made you feel like trash because I was so hurt and I know you’re a hero. I didn’t mean to make you feel like what you do was stupid. I’m stupid.” 

He rushed to your side and held you close, “No, YU, you’re not stupid. I should’ve made time for you, I was a bad boyfriend.” 

“Can we start over?” you asked. 

“How about we start where we left off? Dinner tonight, for sure. I’ll ask Mr. Stark if someone can cover for me.” 

Your eyes lit up with hope, “You mean it?” 

“Of course.” 

#peter parker #marvel #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #spiderman x reader